Silence of dusk — broken,
the pao wala reminds us:
we must eat tomorrow,
like we did yesterday.
Silence of noon — broken,
the kabari wala reminds us:
we’ve been hoarding trash,
like we did last week.
Silent. We are the same.
Tagpoem
He came by bus from Margao,
no he isn’t from Margao.
Someone on a bike
dropped him from Quepem.
He came by bus from Margao.
Just for this?
When I was younger,
maybe I would have too.
He came by bus from Margao,
I dropped him to Porvorim.
Someone on a bike
came to pick him up.
He said his aunt used to live
near where I live now.
To dwell
There are but two choices —
To follow the heart,
Clockwork you never understood.
Or to follow the world,
Why dream, even if you could?
No bread playing Soul out on the streets,
No soul spending days balancing sheets.
Earn the bread first, the heart can wait,
Play Soul today, the bread will come late.
Follow the heart and the world cries,
Follow the world and the heart dies.
The heart is dead,
The world moved ahead.
But the decision is simple —
Where do you often dwell?
The world or the heart.
Where do you go for solace?
Your wallet or your art?