La Mauvaise foi
[1]
I am not what I say I am, I am
an elephant returned to the graveyard
memories come to die so I may live
needlessly suffering, a pathos clam
open and close, open and close, the past
takes over the present, a pickup card
a deck without jokers, floored, I forgive
no one but myself as a child, sorrow
emanates out of pain, a shadow cast
lovingly by the light, longing to hide
eclipsed by lunacy, madness, and bliss
pray to Gaṇeśa for luck, efface pride
happily ignorant of wisdom, kiss
animosity goodbye, tomorrow
nervously before I awake, reborn
through reincarnation, world full of scorn
[2]
I was born in Bombay, the second son
as unwanted as a used, bloody rag
memories flood my consciousness at times
no one imagines life is never fun
only children of abusive parents
that there was abuse is given, I sag
as a man without guidance, without crimes
not to think of myself a criminal
as neglect is not overt, aberrants
not only form groups but form music bands
if I were smart as a savvy adult
maybe I would not struggle to hold hands
as if love were anything to exult
left alone, the shame was subliminal
[3]
I know nothing of the alcoholic
as an adult, I suffered as a child
maybe I was much too wild, all my fault
as a clueless child, I prayed to Moloch
how I longed to be devoured by the god
until I learned better, I was too wild
mythology taught me to run and vault
as a child, I never could get away
not from family, their sense of humor, odd
but I was given food, clothing, shelter
even now I cannot complain of love
if I sound ungrateful, helter skelter
never straight but round and round with a shove
given from behind, Salaam Bombay!
[4]
I return to Mumbai a grown-ass man
ancient to the infant who left by plane
maybe my soul met Icarus in flight
as he crashed and burned, as if he could span
meteoric heights to stumble and slam
aspirations into the sea, insane
noble shadow, the waxwing slain, not bright
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