Authorz: prathap suthan

i am of the earth, i am by the earth, i am for the earth, i am earth.

one night,
 a long time back, 
i climbed up 
a little hill.
 i was maybe ten,
 possibly eleven.


 curious i sat there,
 in the evening…

is it the space between two quartz movements? or the timelessness between two breaths? or the quick instant between two blinks? or is it the…

ideas don’t have skin color. so why on earth am I paid less?

it was a small shop an old shop the man inside didn’t look too wise. i wanted some sugar one kilo sugar the shopkeeper smiled…

i live in india. but i have england on my window sill. i have italy on top of a ledge. i have portugal and spain…

every once in a while one of them skims through yonder greenery and hurtles past my window throwing me a look before it slips through…

no matter who you are no matter where you are right now you and i are the same no matter what you do no matter…

i dipped my feet into the water. atlantic to the right. indian ocean to the left. cold west. warm east. green blue. blue green. yin.…

the summer wind teased me, elevating me to discover wings. not that i have any, i don’t qualify for an angel from any angle. but…

when you and i argued, and you lost, does that mean my god was proficient at logic and language? when you and i quarreled, and…

tomorrow i went to the sun. yesterday i will go to the moon. earth i want to stay on today. day before i must go…

one lonely raindrop detaches from the belly of a ponderous old fluffy grey elephant and tumbles down on a journey through heavy air. a transparent…

france once had a man called Le Petomain who had a musical bottom. and this amazing flatulist could apparently play the Marseillaise to an applause…

i just committed myself to blood. i looked at a whole bunch of poems and i was to choose the best. lines and lines and…

in the voids above my head, a few distant planets colluded, and decided that this was the day i would be in the same 20…

once there was a little boy, and by an open window he’d pretend to sleep every night. come rain, shine or squall, he would always…

past 6 pm and the buildings begin to shed weight. stuffed egos, adipose and cellulite whisk themselves into german cars, and bavarian comforts. soon, most…

if i had a hug that could fly it would be hovering over your home just now. if i had a kiss powered with rocket…

for a life time i have dreamed to ride a beast of black and chrome thick fat belly of liquid energy two big black tyres…