Words speak to their own worlds,
measuring outlines of things,
become moments' shards.
A Poem's overflowing vessel
shatters softly, fractures
into My sounds.
- Laura Mercer
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
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Max Babi, my guru, like Tukaram has a weakness - he barely records his prolific output of poetry. Tukaram is immortal because of Santaji Jagnade who collected his works; this is my attempt to get as much of Max's stuff (he sends it on SMS) in one place.
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