Philosophies and faiths do not flow in rivers
When the Himalayas melt;
Philosophies and faiths do not flow in rivers
When the clouds cool
Philosophies and faiths do not flow in rivers
On sprouting wings
In dreaming spouses
In burning spasms being stabbed
In explosions
Philosophies and faiths do not flow in rivers
In memorizing and forgetting
In secret pains
In sweet dreams
It is the branders
Ink markers
Color sayers
Border crossers
Linguistic obstinacies
Garbage eaters and dirt tasters
Depositors longing for high interest
Philosophies and faiths do not flow in rivers
Knives and daggers ready to kill
Remain stuck in the deep mud of rivers
Rivers are everywhere muddy
As rivers dry with tree felling and erosion
Streams stop flowing
Philosophies and faiths remain sharp weapons
In pre-dawn moments
Arundhati, the Morning Star shines
Cities where blood fattens burn to ashes
Poets create aesthetics of blood
And recite poems at untimely moments
The lava of Cashew fruits
Flows into the cities of the civilized
The rivers of skies
Where swans had flown
Dry out to heat
The elegant birds
Think of the price of costumes
At pre-orgasmic moments
Ah! These are times of Commerce
You and me sign treaties and truces
On commerce
On culture
On copulation
Sky dwellers and travelers
Angelic singers
Transform into jealous worms
On hearing the new tunes
Each river acquires a faith
Each stream a philosophy
Each slaughter a poem
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