Dream within dream

He saw purple flowers in  dream,
Wanting to photograph bunches,

Hanging by a hedge on elevation.
There was a boy who wore a shirt

Of unspecified hue, like  shadow.
The ground leading to the hedge

Was craggy and full of red gravel.
Would the old man risk the climb

To photograph bunch of flowers,
If there were no colors in dream?

The boy was a shadow of no color.
He must be dream within dream.

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Kino eye

In us is a Kino eye that walks back
From the effects to the beginning.

A weird dream way, we walk back
And between, find bodies tumble

Only to make new stories of plots
With the most implausible climax.

(Kino eye is the cinematic eye technique developed by Dziga Vertov, who made a fine silent movie named Kino Eye using the technique)

Victory

The big black beast is a piece of iron
Rusting through dark seaside nights.

Black like night it had punched hole
In the dark underside of ship’s pride

An honor turned sea water and salty
The false pride of an enemy attacker.

But the victory at sea is mere marble
In a museum of time’s forgetfulness.

Baby and the fan

After noon ,when there is silence
Baby’s eyes can follow fan blade.

Here there is sea wind at the door
And see,  how eyes flutter around

Dreams in them ,moving rapidly.
A stomach feels like milky world.

She can’t look a sea beyond door.
It is too big for a little baby mind.

But she can follow in a rapid eye
A brown fan in white sky above.

The sky everywhere seems same.
Fan in it moves with baby dream.

Baby’s laughter

Milky laughter behind eyelids
Seems to rotate like silky stars

As though her recent new life
Is laughing matter in her belly.

She may not be existentialist,
Crinkling eyes at old sunlight,

Or too much milk in stomach
Or excess moonshine in a sky

As moon plays hide and seek
With cloud in full view of sea.

Baby laughs in milky tummy
Gurgling a laughter’s bubbles.

Her bubbles tickle a midnight
On world floating on its sleep.

Continuous

I am still continuous there
And I walk, room to room.

I am aging , room to room.
My  place continues to age.

My air is musty , sea- worn
And the place is still aging.

I am at ninety ,she tells me ,
Your mom had aged early.

She had aged till a seventy
And six and stopped aging.

Her place was decade ago.
Her time is aging in space.