Secrets of MARCH
Things turn great againWaves remix stories
Win laurels from unknown rulers
In the devastated shores
What can a poetic Chief Minister do
But cry?
*****
glowing face
plush pimples
wash your face
it is not an illness, but!
*****
scratching the familiar snakes
On damp red ochre and black
Found him in centuries old house
in rooms that tightly fit him and me
*****
Lost in thoughts
In the boils
Of my God
*****
SHIT US
പ്രശ്നം ഗുരുതരം
കുര്യച്ചന്‍ (പല) പ്ലേറ്റിലായി
മകന്‍സിന്റെ പണിയും പോയി
എങനെ ആവിഷ്ക്കരിക്കും ഈ ജന്മത്തെ?
!
*****
Night persists
I bathe him
Boy of seven
In this world
*****
ഇന്നു തീരെ കനം കുറഞ കാറ്റ്
ഒരു പുളഞ്ഞ നൂല്‍ക്കഷ്ണമായ് ചന്ദ്രന്
പൈപ്പിന്‍ കടക്കല്‍ ഒരു വ്ര്ധ്ധന്
ഒരു കഷ്ണം സ്വപ്നം കൊണ്ടു കുളി തുടങ്ങിക്കഴിഞ്ഞു
എല്ലാം മറന്ന് ഞാന്‍ നിന്റെ കൂടെ
എല്ലാം ഓര്‍ത്തും ഞാന്‍ തന്നെ നിന്റെ കൂടെ
പണ്ടും നമ്മളിങനെ നടക്കാറുണ്ടല്ലൊ
നീ സൈക്കിളുന്തിയുന്തി...
ഞാനോ നിന്റെ രാജകുമാരി കണക്കേ
കുഞ്ഞു നീല സീറ്റില്‍
കുഞ്ഞു കാലുകള്‍
നാക്കു പോലെ ഉന്തി നില്‍ക്കുന്ന
ആ 'പാദംതാങ്ങി'കളില്‍ സൂക്ഷിച്ചു വച്ച്
കുഞ്ഞു കൈകള്‍ ഹാന്‍ഡിലില്‍ അമര്‍ത്തിപ്പിടിച്ച്...
കുത്തനിറക്കങ്ങളില്‍ ഞാന്‍ കണ്ണിറുക്കിയടക്കും
ആളുകള്‍ നിറഞ്ഞ കവലകളില്‍
മുഴുവന്‍ കണ്ണാലേ നോക്കിയിരിക്കും
പച്ചപ്പാടങ്ങള്‍ വരുമ്പോള്‍ ഹാന്‍ഡിലില്‍ നിന്നു കൈ വിട്ട് ചിറകുടുപ്പുകളാല്‍ ഞാനൊരു പക്ഷിയാകും
സുന്ദരാ നീയന്നു ആ കുഞ്ഞു സീറ്റിലെ
കുഞ്ഞു പക്ഷിക്കൊത്തു
റോട്ടിലൂടെ പാഞ്ഞ്പോകുമായിരുന്നു
അന്നൊക്കെ നീയായിരുന്നു
നീ മാത്രമായിരുന്നു നമ്മുടെ വാഹനത്തിന്റെ നിയന്താവ്
രാത്രികളില്‍ഈയലുകളെണ്ണി എനിക്കു മതിയാകും
എന്നാലും നീ സമയത്തു വീട്ടിലെത്തില്ലാ
ചക്റം വച്ച തത്തക്കൊപ്പം അവളെന്നപോലെ ഞാനുമുറങ്ങും
പിറ്റേന്ന് കത്തിക്കാന്‍ നമ്മള്‍ വച്ച ഓലക്കീറുകളില്‍ നിന്ന്
ഉശിരന്‍ പച്ചച്ചാടന്മാര്‍ എന്റെ മേല്‍ ഭാഗ്യം വിതയ്ക്കും.
ഒരൊറ്റ രാത്രി കൊണ്ടു നൂറായിരം ചിതല്പ്പുറ്റുകള്‍
നമ്മുടെ പായ്ക്കടിയില്‍ ഉണ്ടാകുമായിരുന്നു
നീയെന്തു കരുതി?
ആതൊക്കെ എനിക്കും അറിയാവുന്ന രഹസ്യങ്ങളായിരുന്നു
ഇന്ന് ഞാന്‍
ആകെ വളര്‍ന്ന് കഴിഞ്ഞ ഒരു സ്ത്രീ.
കാറ്റിനൊപ്പം ഈ കുതിരവാല്‍ ഉണ്ടെന്നേയുള്ളൂ
എന്നത്തേയും പോലെ
നീ മുന്നില്‍ നടക്കുന്നു
പിറ്കില്‍ എനിക്കറിയാം
നിനക്കൊരു കാണാക്കണ്ണുണ്ട്
അതോ എനിക്കു തോന്നുന്നതോ?
അങ്ങനെ തോന്നി ഞാന്‍ ശീലിച്ചതോ?
സത്യത്തില്‍ നീ എന്നെയും
പിന്നെയീ കഴിഞുപോയ പാതയേയും വിട്ടു
ഇത്ര വേഗം മുന്നോട്ട് കുതിക്കുന്നോ
എനിക്കുണ്ട് മുന്നില്‍ തന്നെ
എല്ലാര്‍ക്കും കാണാവുന്ന ഒരു അമരക്കണ്ണ്
ചിലക്കുന്ന കിളിയെ നോക്കണം
പശുവിനെ കെട്ടാന്‍ പോകുന്ന നൈറ്റിക്കാരിയോടു ചിരിക്കണം
എതിരേ നിന്റെ കണ്ണു മഞളിപ്പിച്ചു വരുന്ന
ആ ഘടാഘടിയന്‍ വാഹനത്തെ നേരിടണം
കുമിയുന്ന മഞ്ഞിന്റെ പടലം വകയണം
എന്നൊക്കെയാണു വിചാരം
പക്ഷേ ഈ പ്രഭാതസവാരി ഇങ്ങനെ ഓര്‍മ്മകളുടെ ഒരു പര്‍വ്വതക്കയറ്റ്മാകുന്നതെന്ത്
അതിമനോഹരമായ ഒരു പുലര്‍കാലത്ത്
അച്ചനുമൊത്ത് ഒരുവള്‍ക്കു വര്‍ത്തമാനത്തില്‍ നടക്കാവതല്ലേ?
*****
Players went back
Injured at heart.
Actress cried
Injured at fortunes.
A good morning
with hanging cottons
In my yard
*****
why do we do this?
in the morning
in the afternoon
in the evening
and at night
why do we do this?
by all means open
in all forms
and all words
why do we do this?
*****
old man bathing
near wayside tap
scrubbing his foot
with a piece of dream
the morning stars still winking
*****
1.30 pm
molten smell
travels across many trees
to reach you
sleeping in a bermuda
*****
come closer like that,let me swallow you....
tomorrow people will run around
screaming about 'seeing him even the last evening'
finally let them drag you from my mouth
*****
lovely man
let me dismantle your lips for a while
let mine parch on your glass edge first
then sing the music of sipping,one on the other
many lips sliding in and around
oh transport of strange juice!
*****
And you are my wet wet book of wisdom
glued up, can't move a single page
how clotted is this book
on this rainy day, my lovely man!
*****
a drop of this liquid
so translucent a poem
watering valleys
here a horse cant ride properly?
so sorry, an intoxicated maiden sits and drinks a man
to her deepest layer of garment
look at these wet valleys
no win
no ride
the horse trips along so peacefully!
*****
An old man sits in tears
as he reads the young girl's letter
when they meet
the old man wears a new dress for the walk
the young girl walks up around him as if in hymns
the old man was futile
the young girl was further futile
they both counted stars
both of them watched the sun
and decided to call each other by the name of the sun
they both painted mosquitos
they named the mosquitos with the lovliest of names in the world
so mosquitos loved them
when the old man went back to his wintry place
the mosquitos didn't go with him
one day old man realised that he had no heir left
he walked into the earth...
deep inside and sat crosslegged in an egg of it
the young girl put an iron thread deep into the egg
they started talking everyday
the young girl crossed thirty now
she walks every morning too
*****
you came in dream this morn
Honking in reality the same old horn
pricking all over me
ants are doing their pilgrimage
Oh it is all about
waking up without much damage
in to a fine morning
*****
smell of a clay
deep sleeping
but suddenly knocked at....
husband from far away place
*****
the bird-lips
spitting two drops
of fairness cream,
she turns into a firefly
in the dark
*****
Let us start afresh
in a flying poem
booooooooooom!
*****
Let us catch our rainbow
Till sleep pervades
Hang on
To the pores of my skin
*****
sunny day
my innermost garments get soaked
in the crack of a laughter
*****
like this paddle
i was....once
In a temple of three deities
I had a granny
who died very uncanny
wearing my green bangles
*****
who is the best amongthese young men ?
donor of blood.
one who is certified participator in a long march
one who enlightened women and teenagers
one who marched against alcoholism
oh! planted a row of plantains last year
also conducted a leadership programme
donor of eyes.
a planter of trees by the roadside
a participator in a class by experts
a celebrator of martyre's day
and a founder of a woman's wing to tag with the main group
an educator of housewives to start vegetable groove in their backyards
not a donor of kidneys.
who is the best among these young men?
*****
shatterd kids of nowhere
doctors without borders,
where are the mother birds
where are the father birds
u heard a flutter ?
*****
clue less,
in an ocean of darkness
nobody
but enough wrinkles
to make textures for
silly student of watercolours
*****
mother in her own room
but has eyes grown out of her
follows you, dear child
palm trees breathing lovely skies
on your way
a finished cup of tea!
*****
the black ducks in the pool
strangely named trees
intriguing tombs
immortalising graffiti
gentle breeze
sinking sun
Let us repeat it
for a life that is together
at some precious points?
*****
a bed of loneliness
lungi kept unwashed
from the day of your departure
these days it smells myself?
*****
Hmm
Who will care
the emoticon
when emote?
*****
Not only invisible but offline
We are inside this huge blanket
What does the world know about us?
*****
Man is a child
He does all
What a child does on me
*****
Get sense of your hands,
The left will welcome right
Right will merge into left
*****
So pale is this body
With some spots of beauty
*****
A mouve curtain
river flowing smooth
On this window
*****
Ahoo...Venkiteswara...!
Waiting for next Venkissa
Mind you,
I am wearing a Vanessa
*****
Look at the reader of my poem
Holding it upside down
i flutter
*****
Hall of examinations
Young boys and girls
taking tickets
to rubbishness
But counted all of them
by head and hold
'invigila',
he calls me new!
but sitting in a corner
reading 'ways of seeing'
*****
When we meet
I will hold this shield of poem
onto these mystery spots
eternal prince of charms,
Push them in qualms
reveal me to the world
the people next table
Only finish their dish
****************
When we meet
Hold this shield of Oshima
On your erospots
Eternal princess of mystery
will 'play' it in my system
Waitors of the world
only bring the bill
*****
Perplexing windows
never shut or open
in or out
simply pan upto an eye's pangs
as if mirrors that move in pleasure
for fancying man and woman
kept apart at far away rooms
Sitting so embarrassed
they do nothing of their calculated fault
they allow things to fall in place on mutual request
simply 'looking at' windows!
one after another..
one with another..
one on another..
two windows together...
drag them close...
drag them away...
He takes the screen in hand
walks around as if in dance
suddenly finds in the other screen
there are some blank spots in her messy shelf
that he can fill with his imagination
He stares at the window
that showed him stretching his body in T-shirt
for the sheer pleasure of watching himself doing it
she can not pluck eyes from the frame that showed her
once she clips hair, then she lets it lose
Clips up and let lose
engrossed in single windows
slowly they turn the other into presence so uncanny!
do we really see each other, they worried at a helpless engross
Or we get a better grasp of only our own mirrors, they goggled at each other's window
suddenly he minimises her window
she blows it up and link goes for good
the screen is silent with a mouse pointer
hanging in some processing or the other
the man and woman close their 'looking at' windows
that never allow them to reach out through!
In the rooms inflated with desires
man and woman sit so silent
kept apart at far away places..
some rivers start flowing again....
together into the valleys of imagination
where windows are now lost in a vanishing act
*****
A woman with an ink pen
dances on a piece of old cloth
tea stains here and there
prickly smells and burnt spots
Ha! contemplates fallen hair
*****
poor thing!
it must have taken a cross road
hellish instinct
suddenly pasted him on the tarmac
its perhaps a silent act
the liquids didnt sprout
but oozed along
a couple of lines and clotted
for a brief life time
what a cat walk!
*****
In an affair with the word 'fallen'
I do it almost on this cloth
press of the nib
no beginning
no end
fold it like a dress
put it back in shelf
hei, nobody will see
all are lazy to get up steirs
fallen angels
fallen pride
fallen hair
a new gained dance!
*****
rain in summer
comes like husband
washing away all reticence
says a lonely woman
twisting her tongue
*****
Cheers!
calm night
the stick in my eyes
falls down
*****
How can one pass fleeting moments to a bride?
shame on me to pass mysteries that repeat in same way
look at this sister, she is captured in a forever time
*****
boy back from school
finished the year he says
but already started new year
*****
On peeling these potatos
i may be chanting a primitive poetic plenitude
you may quote me with those long long and old old poems
But like a kiss i plant on him, on him and on Him
poetry is never the same each moment
says a twenty first century poet
peeling potatos in her kitchen
