HOWLING

HOWLING

Words by Kalyan prasad Dutta, translation by Sourav Roy

Sliding myself free from everything

Shaking myself inside out and breaking myself loose

I earn adequate disquiet

29 horizons are howling today, stripped

Who will release me now, who will soothe?

Terror stomps and the fluid cage shakes

I want to be leaving 

with the salty stamp of whore on my tongue

snatching me from myself

Today men’s faces are splinters on my sides

Why did the cry of my first night was not

my last - I feel like a dolt thinking of

the heap of khaki ropes, coiled neatly

kept inside the trunk, bought for Rs. 116

One day they’ll gag me - like a kiss from Rumi

Let me be please

Please let me forget

why did I howl like a baby after love was made

A battle wages inside my skull, demon vs. sage

Unsure which side to pick on this duel

Seeing my biodad slaughtered

I giggle in my dream

a sharp moment of greed

flashes like a cat’s eye, shines

The litter of humans are not leaving me in peace

The wrinkles of my mother are running a roller on my heart, nonstop

My father’s gaze, like a crazy, mute searchlight

is scorching my canals and craters

The radioactive murder in a single drop of blood

looms like a wondorous why on my face

Can’t heal myself with any kind of love

I can’t

My vision bathed by the hot blood from my eyes

a blind waterfall diving into its own shadow on a stunned rock

Those who broke my bread with me

They are ringing,  cling-a-linga-ling, as pets of pretty thots

.

day and night

Oh powerless me, so grimly alone am I

All those born bastards got into the pen, and got their 24 karat pens

Only their market prices rise

And I am doing my time, crying for myself

In this face-off with time,  today

So then that is it?

Within the money’s grip

lovebodybloodlusthoneywinehunger will forever be gripped?

Those who fuck fast and loose

first thing in the morning, in the fiery sunrise beach

Someone give me a glob of cunts

I will grace it with all the sins and shames of my tongue

until the clits sing that slippery song and

I meet and greet the angry corpuscles

A stripped Kalyan of a million howls, runs with torch in hand

Ohhhh I will die I will die

Will kick straight into soft balls of sundry Systemics

and will throw Molotov-ed Mars at its soul

Contractual love had already done me much damage

Like the blackboard had cremated my youth

I dream of peeing all over that classroom one day

The dank perfume of my strong urine will tell them -

That fucker is not dead yet,

Alive and kicking, his heels strike sparks!

I think an acoustic guitar plays in my blood

Those who leak out their entire brains through salivary glands

slobbering nonstop on the legs of the Chair

Only their market price goes up

Why do I hunt poems instead of  jobs

A worry shutting down periods of many

Vain world Vain aches Vain whining

Speeding through the tunnels of despair

slaughter sounds come at me

I fail to feel shocked

The terrifying ledge of loneliness

.

with smellfatmarrowmeatmemorywave

is sucking me in like quicksand

Nothing to lose sans sounds from years past

Nothing to win over for me

Scrolling through zillion surprise crests

Falling through unknowable nothing

topsy turvy

I will go crazy one day

Ahh Life Ahh Dreams Ahh Death

You are building on my very chest

An abominable vomit pyramid

A mangy dog whines relentless all day and all night

no peace anywhere

A parallax joke gnawing into

snaking grooves, incessant

I run away from the constitution of rules

My wall of patience is shedding mortar

I want to be away from all the directives

When I go for a walk on my own

A pair of feet rise through the asphalt 

Nothing feels good, nothing right

At the shade of my sex-pumped arms I learn

all the tips and tricks of life

While writing poetry

I see my skull on fire, hit by the cremator’s road

is vomiting anger that agrees with none

While writing poetry I can see

My bomb-lit navel getting fucked by the pyre flame

Exploding  into a cosmic hiss

Ahh Bliss Ahh Orgasm

Today everything but poetry feels fake

I want to return

to a darkness more primal than the prime fear

My esophagus is folding itself

Thinking of the last journey

at the omphalic knot danging at the end of my mother’s sari

I leave my

sin

spunk

sorrow

cares

sleep