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K Balachandran Jun 2014
My pet cat licks my face repeatedly; it feels a bit strange
to jut my jaw forward for a feline to lick and make my face wet.
but as I sit my eyes shut, it feels unreasonably nice, then, it dawns:
she is clicking her LIKES on my real Facebook page
                                                                           the way she knows best.
Eureka! this is my tender Archimedes moment !
the naked truth, reveals itself before me like Venus
why the crazy craving, without rhyme or reason
for LIKES in Facebook and cyberspace;
                                                                          now, I understand so well.
Jun 2014 · 1.9k
Ink blot world
K Balachandran Jun 2014
Aren't we dreams complex that bloomed
in the garden of *Rorschach?
ink blots with hidden meanings
where ghosts of the past roam to pluck flowers
"Rorschach ink blot test" is a psychological test in which subject's perception of inkblots are recorded and analysed to examine a person's personality characteristics or emotional functioning.
K Balachandran Jun 2014
As he walks blindly, the somnambulist
deep in his subconscious is awareness why it happens;
loveless nights prompts wanderings in darkness
he can't willfully stop this wild goose chase
Jun 2014 · 2.0k
A quick transfer of pleasure
K Balachandran Jun 2014
From the top rung of the ladder,
         she slowly steps backwards
seeing me  approach, touch down
        then, like a whirlwind, quickly turns
kisses me full on my lips
           with  such an urgency
love full of passion alone would explain,
          the feast for my eyes for
what seemed a long time, a fallacy of course
         is forgotten by my thankless mind,
but, oh! yes my lips now receive
          the same measure of pleasure,
  as a love potion, with a searing taste.
K Balachandran Jun 2014
Sickened he was by her bad word choices, special need for
incongruous expressions,words spelled the way she likes,
blanks that can never be filled, invented quotes, fabricated realities,
thunderous "****" repeated in intervals, as if  each an inlaid jewel,
and then, having no fixed meaning for that favorite word of hers,
nothing more than an intention to denigrate ******,
                                                                ­                   and women as a whole,
a subconscious compulsion, strangely included, her's also in it's ambit.
He understands her compulsion for such expression thus--
fulfillment of some innate need, an expression of her own worthlessness,
resulted from some grave injury of the mind that happened,
sometime early in her childhood, one could guess.
He took the decision to mark her "UNREAD" for ever
with deep anguish of course,after reading her many fine and sane pieces.
A poetry site distinguished, moderated by editors, a pleasure for participants, as one of those rare sites where authentic discussion on poetic aesthetics is held,  edits done to polish a poem, now finds a fall of standard, which is painful.Core of the problem is few with interests other than poetic..
Their attitude is strange,  and every one pretends emperor's new clothes are fine..
Or is it because some want to be e.e cummings, Bukowski and few others, all at once?
K Balachandran Jun 2014
I was sold to pain
in a slave market
that  didn't  look like one,
auctioned by a civilized crowd
of people just like you and me
in everyday life,
posing as my comrades, acolytes or lovers.
I stood firm on my ground
unrelenting even in pain's intimidation
and said, what  Valmiki
                 the first poet found,
        "Grief gushes out in verse"
                                 and I sing
                                        alone.
Poet Valmiki, according to Indian tradition, wrote the first epic poem "Ramayana" in Sanskrit  millenniums ago,  known as Adi Kavya(first poem) .Adi Kavi(First poet) Valmiki,  uttered his first verse in anguish without even realizing it as a new form of expression.He saw a cruel hunter killing the male among a pair of doves making love, oblivious of the world."Hunter, don't.." gushed out the anguish in the form of verse..the first ever. The theme extended in to the story of King Rama's life and the grief he embraces to remain a ruler true to his subjects.
May 2014 · 829
The serpent and the rope
K Balachandran May 2014
The dark eyed painter, made me her canvas,
winter was still lurking in her fingertips
my skin sizzles when her fingers wearing ice shoes
walk over it in a frenzy rarely seen
to get me readied for her work of love.
in the dull prancing light when we walked
back from the beach listening to the waves
roaring in sadistic delight
                                            she saw a serpent wriggling away,
chasing her illusion as before,I found, it was just a tangled rope
freed from fear, she came running
embraced me with boundless joy, said
"How would I survive in this world full of  riddles
of serpent and rope mire one in every single step"
"Maya, my dark eyed charmer, you are my world"
I saw her power ruling my world, I have no escape
unless we decide.Extending ******* she asked:
"Which one, serpent and rope or snakes and ladders?"
closing my eyes, I touched one, my fate was decided thus,
while we undressed each other and got ready for a skinny dip,
I was in a trance gone far beyond the reality's front door.
"Rajju(rope) sarpa(serpent) bhranthi(illusion)" in Upanishad texts is used to  explain illusory nature of the world.
In the semi-darkness of ignorance a rope is mistaken as serpent inviting
all emotional responses of seeing a serpent, but when light of wisdom illuminates, those anxious reactions disappear.
This world appears to be a serpent( when it is just a rope) due to ignorance.
K Balachandran May 2014
A castaway in the island of failed loves, my heart
moved in jungle pathways, lived alone in caves,
I sold it to a courtesan who courted it steadfast
never had I felt such an ease in my days dark.
Love is a clandestine merchandise in market places
by lovers, men and women of charm and magic
mixing power and allure, when the price is just right.

The street of our evenings was full of laughter,
my love life there saw many sunny seasons.
We walked hand in hand and my sweetheart was eager
to please me as my heart was full of  love's languor
the meaning of love was still obscure for me and her,
though we thought it was nothing but love, that
kept throbbing in our every vein, it really mattered.

To the tune of Blue Danube, we would wildly waltz,
the sad thought it brought, made me weep inside.
if the world is so wicked let's die together,
and I see her dance away totally inebriated
footsteps sounded near, we lost  true interest
pain was chasing us, all the way from behind,
we were disillusioned, love slowly got drifted
gently  dissipated breaking our hearts.

As I cross the corner of the street alone,
with my heart bleeding, often the girl for the day in tow,
I feel the pang of a heart, seeking my love waiting
the courtesan who kept watching me, her glassy eyes moist,
all these days of wandering, eventually our eyes met.

I sold my heart to the lonely courtesan, she wept, received it.
K Balachandran May 2014
Age, couldn't ever wither her, her flamboyance
baffled and attracted, alternatively, a poetic thunder,
this phenomenal woman engaged life and death alike
so see her at this age, was a wonder, what a presence!
her lips proclaimed through red glow of lipstick, aloud
"Kiss me death, I'll give myself at the last breath"

Why do we hold life close to our chest, seeing her zest
if one asks her, her laughter would answer well to that puzzle,
all this passionate living is for the experience to share,
to surrender, before death that will take her through the dark hole
that connect the eons to the white hole at the other end.
Birth and death, doors to and from a stage, living an intoxicated dance.

They take her coffin, along the street, grief stricken , gone mute
dance, dance her voice instigates in silence, wildly they dance.
May 2014 · 3.9k
At the first sight
K Balachandran May 2014
Her cunning eyes
he spied, slyly write
the usual evaluation note
any guy is familiar:
"His eyes are right there
where the difference lies
grazing my curves
as if it is all his;
on the edge he is, I am sure
his eyes are heavily laden
with lust".His eyes,
are they any less?
"She has decided
in an instance to extract
a big price, need to conceal well
emotions like an unfinished sculpture,
till the exact time to unveil"
he gets his report, immediately acts,
her face falls with a thud.
May 2014 · 839
when last seen
K Balachandran May 2014
she was correcting
one  
     by
         one
all the mistakes of her past,
with an eraser and a pencil
in a bleak room painted clinical white.
K Balachandran May 2014
a green leaf in the swirl,
        as the maelstrom ***** in
stands tail up in anguish, for a moment
         then goes without a trace
K Balachandran May 2014
She is a character perfect
for my work of science fiction,
chosen after much research
on unreliability of reality
as one knows does exist,
it's even more true of her.
In a hurry I concluded,
"What a  luck, I chose to write her
as the character of possibility!
                              then, how quickly
                              the class I expected of her
                              went totally to seed.
                              are we opposites?
Or, is this reality not shared by both of us?
what can one say about a situation when,
my own creation fights against my writ,
No, I am not in the same league as Luigi Pirandello
this is the result when commonsense is delineated
by a hallucinating mind, caught in love net.Zilch.
Luigi Pirandello--author of absurdist metatheatrical play 'Six characters in search of an author"(Italian)
May 2014 · 5.5k
The burden
K Balachandran May 2014
He lets her touch him intimately, without emotion
                        when in some pretext she is alone,
in his cubicle with him, discussing  things inane,
                     a software environs need not be  concerned
some times when she passes through,
                     her longing crosses limits, these days
it has become frequent, to the extent others to  notice.
                    she found silly excuses, fifth time this morning
but he can't hurt her feeling, a team member valued,
                      she contributes to his success, as the team leader

  He can see her need for comfort,
               under her tired eyes dark shadows of sleepiness
  lay curled like a depressed mongrel,
                     yet another duel she had with that nincompoop
   she calls her husband, all through last night;
                      a sudden pang he feels calls his wife
  asks if she is fine, to ease his guilt that raises
                        its head like  a snake from under the cover of grass.
  "A housewife has a thousand things to do, why don't you
                      find a buxom colleague to flirt, if that is the need"
  she banters and teases him on his illogical concerns.

                      Through the glass parting he discreetly watches her face
   heard a murmur arising inside,"the ***** plans the next move"
                           panicked he tried to concentrate on the screen
   that looked frightening, the deadline getting nearer and nearer
                       by each hour, he heard the heavy foot fall
  at that moment he heard a thud, as if something fell down
                      everyone was running towards her workstation.
May 2014 · 1.3k
When love fails to see
K Balachandran May 2014
A sad whimpering wind,
came travelling great distances
bringing her wistful sighs
and solitary pain of her heart,
broken in to many pieces,
but somehow still held together;
repeatedly bangs at his closed
window panes and wait for a response
then desperately sobs aloud,
on finding it wouldn't open
even after such desperate
expression of anguish
on behalf of a love once was
a bloom of rare red hibiscus
it's color  would never fade, it seemed.


But who would understand
his sad predicament, still unnamed!
hiding in a dark corner,
not to let the messenger
know his pathetic condition,
flames leap up from his heart
lighted by his lost love,
none could ever put it out.

They parted ways to never
again come back
both know there is no life
for each without the other,
still couldn't avoid this fall
breaking a golden dream,
and lots of promises of beauty;
their budding garden went barren
for ever, why why they don't see?
May 2014 · 2.4k
Darkness unbound
K Balachandran May 2014
Her libidinous eyes like dark beetles
circled his face in ***** adoration,
numbing pain chocking his voice
he told her the crushing truth,
he was  a werewolf, without redemption,

she didn't stir, was jubilant in spreading darkness
a blush, still visible made her look more eager
"I was hoping against hope, though too suave looking,
you would be one, just take me, I am your vampire"
May 2014 · 883
Penitence
K Balachandran May 2014
The pool glistened
in wet moonlight,
wearing a  haze
like in an ***** eater's vision.
the deep blue waters
that lay still
has something to tell
one would think,
he was glad to see
such clear water,
that reminded him
something vague

"Answer my questions"
from the pool intoned a voice
"before stepping in to this water,
your ablution can wait a bit,
would you like to taste
this water, and find out
its origin, if you could, then step in"
"Why not" he replied with confidence,
"I am enamored by this sight,
such loveliness makes one
forget pain of every kind
now, let me know it a little better"
when his tongue touched
the water just once, a flash
struck,  remembrance came
rushing towards him like
the curse of  tsunami waves,

her pearly tears it were,  collected
on its own, for many years.
he sat by the pool, guilt ridden
torn apart by grief, cruel vultures,
till the moment his eyes fully dried,
he was let out from the house of pain.
K Balachandran May 2014
Gallivanter river, we'll reach there together,
at the confluence, the tranquil ocean iridescent
where every being is together, you, me and others,
transcending  limits, one incessant flow of consciousness.
May 2014 · 2.8k
Waves of desire
K Balachandran May 2014
Rumbunctious
waves
                 rolling
one over the other
on the white sand bed,
reach for new heights
like insatiable lovers;
from her desolated corner
on the beach front,
a lone woman
watches their fervor
with an undiminishing
fire of desire, in her eyes
but none to stoke or share.
May 2014 · 2.3k
Sweet revenge (erotic)
K Balachandran May 2014
Your mind, I can read through the mirror of dark eyes,
no iris reading technology this, an ancient practice of lovers
disagreement creeps in to your naughty mind
don't I read it's alphabets and words?
you still smile and act amiable,
just to mislead me and  hide your war tactics.
this little game of ours has a subtext of lust,
in bed we translate it to a physical duel
half moons of my nails etch  blood mark all over  your back
your sharp teeth, give quick bites, lips nibble my earlobes,
love play quickly become a rough and tumble game
when you are the naked aggressor sitting above, I the victim,
moving up and down, we inch forward to culminate in sweet thunder,
you have your sweet revenge, my lover, like in times before,
dissolving your disagreements, in my willing surrender
to your charm,  warm naked body's entrapment, every time my dream
May 2014 · 795
we are the pair
K Balachandran May 2014
she thinks herself
as my messenger
I am the mirror
she reflects
on which miraculously
the revelations
regularly appear

whenever we meet
we talk in the lingo
of wind and water
we walk hand in hand
along the bank of
our favorite river,
that none would find
in time and space

we love dancing around
the fire we create for ourselves
she turns a singer
only when the urge
fully overpowers her.
we know no anger,
we embrace
the winds of change
like it's a long lost brother

I am her song with
the words she perfects,
meaning I make sure
goes beyond and hit
the center
in our town there isn't
any pair like us,but we've
never thought that way
even once
we aspire, never despair
we are children of nature
cosmic love bug is our signature.
May 2014 · 1.4k
*Bindu
K Balachandran May 2014
Their astral bodies entwine
beyond the imaginary limits
man, woman, matter, energy,
in an urge to know, fuse as one
converge, sizzle in the heat of  surge,
carnal lust evaporates
like summer mist
at the purple dawn
creation of  lucent zen,
wanderings end
at the "BINDU" esoteric point
in the center of being
where the truth ultimate
is celebrated in the chants
of primordial boom, Om
which resonates thus:
"Om tat sat"
Bindu---Literally a point or dot(represented by that symbol)sometimes likened to a pearl,the convergence point of Meditation, Contemplation, Mantra and prayers
Mystical, esoteric part of many; highest convergent point of Yoga,Tantra and Vedantha, near the limit of time, space and causation
Bindu is the doorway to the absolute.
*Om-the primordial sound/infinite sprit in the form of sound(sabda brahman)
Tat--the sound esoteric indicator of absolute("all that is")
Sat---the esoteric third indicator of the absolute(essence)
"Om Tat Sat"  has no physical component
May 2014 · 1.3k
Dead End
K Balachandran May 2014
Her sudden wink--
he quickly picks
tries to ink her like;
it somehow links him
to a past moment
retrieved from
a hidden dark place.
a journey through
verdant country paths,
in the beginning
then, a string of events,
that stirred his heart
till it hurt too bad,
leading to a dead end.
In his somber smile
her wink gets stuck
freezes in an instance,
slowly dissolves.
May 2014 · 1.0k
Vigor in blue
K Balachandran May 2014
Hazy eyed
satisfied
just out of the
tumultuous
stream of
pleasure,
picking her
things and
stuffing it in her
hand bag quick,
a moment before
stepping in to
the lift quietly,
she turns to him
and slips
a ****** pill
in to his reluctant palm,
with a suggestive
squeeze,
(an after thought
ahead of a
future plot,
he realizes)
he slips it
carelessly
like in
other times
in to his hip pocket
smiling to himself
mulling over her
****** avarice,
fear of failure,
and insatiated desires
she bundled up
all these years
and kept hidden
like the pill
a promise for tomorrow
deeply buried secret
among the knick knacks,
in  her bag.
May 2014 · 950
A tryst in the confluence
K Balachandran May 2014
Wanton lad, tamed a bit by time, is still game for anything,
the girl, sober and cool decided she too for once will fall in line,
the waterfall, a quaint sight, foamy, milky flow gushing,
ecstatic, they melted in  the pool at the  fall where waves  are churning
May 2014 · 1.1k
The white lotus
K Balachandran May 2014
She fell in to the hands of darkness and wept
the world all of a sudden  ceased to exist,
she hoped, "If only a drop of moonlight
fell on the cheerful courtyard of the time past,
and show me  the happy scenes of yore,
children yelling aloud and playing around,
as if nothing will ever happen to break my peace"

Alone beyond mind, she soared in to a stillness, it was deep,
then light, so soft and fizzy surrounded her
gathered her in hands like her dear mother,
she felt light, pain vanished, didn't know
how much time passed,  felt like all burdens were  lifted.

Light was wisdom timeless, it told her, time has light feet,
from illusion it comes and returns to it's fold
all things good and bad in to fathomlessness dissolve.
"Forget the bleakness of the dark waters my dear,
you are the beaming white lotus, floating eternally above it."
"Asato ma sad gamaya          (lead me from ignorance to truth)
Tamaso ma jyothir gamaya   (lead me from darkness  to light)
Mrityorma amrutham gamaya(lead me from death to immortality)
Shanhi......shanti ......shanti   "    (Peace..Peace.....peace)
------Brahadaranyaka Upanishad
May 2014 · 852
The victim
K Balachandran May 2014
Slithering dark road,
the floodgates of
venomous traffic
opens in to it;
honking of horns,
siege, uncontrollable road rage,
poison affects mind and body alike,
brings him to his knees
at the day's end,

                       He gulps
glasses and glasses
of his favorite poison
and jumps
                   in
                         to
                             the
                                   deep
                                          dark
                                              hole
             ­                                     of
                         ­                            numb
                                                               s   l     e    e    p.
K Balachandran May 2014
The star far far away winks at me, flowing tears blur that glow,
love makes us forget even the gaping chasm between us,
night after night, expecting nothing we pledge our love to each other/knowing so well that no dream of  lovers has ever fully come true.
K Balachandran May 2014
A vanishing cloud, ethereal with a heart shaped red blot in the middle
told her without words, "It's time to dissolve, I can't wait anymore,
it's night, my eyes droop I have to sleep, no time is ripe to say goodbye ever
don't grieve, I am not going anywhere, be back here as things you love most
a strain of music wistful in the evening air, a lovely bird streaming blissfully
in cold mountain air, a sad poem that makes a mother cry for a short while
then dry her eyes and smile,or anything you love without any reason obvious,
will you remember me then, when I am in another, mother dear?"
For Maria
K Balachandran May 2014
I left my shores in that fateful night,
my heart was torn in to pieces,
and blood rushed out, a red river
still I fought like an battle hardened soldier,

My old boat made of  seasoned wood was broken
in many places, lost my navigational aids
the sky was windy and overcast, the sun avoided my eyes
at dark nights, the lone star that loved you and me
and wanted us to unite, was covered with angry clouds
that wanted me to get lost in high seas
the storm that was brewing didn't daunt me
I set full sail and saw the island in my mind
listened only to your voice within me , firm and clear
you  are my rudder, light house, love song
Love, is the only light that's left for me
will I reach your abode against all odds?
My heart goes to Maria,  our friend in this moment of intense pain
May 2014 · 1.2k
In the stream without oars
K Balachandran May 2014
Sprightly nymph, her eyes twinkling, twerks,
                     a diabolic Goddess, she is
  his whacky mind butts in
           her cheeky wishes were fulfilled.
May 2014 · 3.3k
Her hidden prediliction
K Balachandran May 2014
She is a breeze,
gently wafts in,
in the fiery climes
she quickly transforms,
arousal of passion
makes her
a whirlwind fierce,
her spirited twists and turns
were beyond prediction
her predilection
to dominate becomes
so insistent
she turned to a twister
had an unrestricted run
the giant redwood
was uprooted in no time
K Balachandran May 2014
A girl wearing a flowing gown,
on which yellow butterflies are in profusion
sows seeds of happy confusion
inadvertently in midtown.
The day on its upward swing
pauses a moment,  catching my breath
I jump on, with her, we fly up
the girl smiling to herself
allowed me to arrest herself
inside me for keeps, without persuasion
Remember those magical yellow butterflies
from" One hundred years of solitude"
K Balachandran May 2014
Echoes within me still remember your mellifluous voice,
blue waters in the pool of my heart still preserve the reflection of your eyes,
honey melting slowly on my tongue reminds your love,
sweetness was defined to me the way i understood, first  by your presence.

why does the cat still look wistful through the window,
the wind misses its tune thinking it gets your scent again,
heart sacrifices few beats, every time the clock chimes,
time runs out fast for me, yet hope keeps vigil to make up lost time,

I carry within me a moment of our life, a jewel we chiseled
on the verdant hill we stood overlooking the valley, till horizon,
prompted by the musky scent of forest flowers that enveloped us
we kissed, transported to a world above, touched our  star
that golden moment of our love we gifted to each other, the hope remains
K Balachandran May 2014
Pain gets written around one's eyes  like eye liner, for all to notice
let it be known to all now, it's our prime entitlement, these days
"Citizen pain" has become our collective name for long, do we see?
by distributing misery disproportionately, they bestowed on us this glory.
when creation of wealth happens in a maddening pace, and every one scrambles,why distribution of misery alone increases, whom to blame?
K Balachandran May 2014
The panther's blazing eyes
stares at him first , scrutinizing,
her rough tongue likes him clean
when amorous longings subdue.
May 2014 · 921
Ignore the wrong mirror
K Balachandran May 2014
The master asked the disciple for a fish,
but he didn't like the idea of casting a net (has his reasons)
he stole a river altogether and brought to the master's abode, cool,
but not found him there and learned he was taking bath in the same river.
"My thought took a wrong route, another lesson from the Guru to be simple"
He promised the Guru to be spontaneous, the next time   (the usual excuse)
but what really happened, where and why, you need to contemplate.
May 2014 · 6.5k
Music unheard
K Balachandran May 2014
Rising full moon spreads her cryptic commands
on the tree branch a wise owl sits intently listening
from her window a girl in wonder discreetly observes ,
seeks its unknown meaning , a pregnant pause in the choral music
K Balachandran May 2014
They are all drunk, light footed, swank
spunky babes and daring guys once in campus
now yellowing leaves in slanting evening light
their dress, manners and assured pace suggest
"There is no need for any hurry in our lives any more"
all those songs deeply buried quickly surface
after all these years of total separation, can you believe?

They started from where they left, many decades back
memories poured out, collected in pools, happy faces
reflected on that clear surface like before,
and words regained their cadence of those days of yore
meanings deeply buried under the dead leaves of
fallen years surfaced, tickled, they giggled and shared secrets
once more as if still in teens they are
                                                        The last thing one remembers,
before slipping in to stupor is Happiness
a parakeet with colorful wings floating on the air,
lovingly calling each one's pet name in campus then,
magic that went missing from lives, all these years
was brought back by memories, they find what that means
there it was thick in the night air, past , chocking every throat,
a simulacrum of past, white clad ghost embraced them tight.
K Balachandran May 2014
Paul Walker
drove past
                                                            ­     *fast
Paul Walker is missed..he leaves a message
May 2014 · 1.4k
The hysteria of the night
K Balachandran May 2014
The hysteria of night, I feel
like a tug in my pining lovelorn heart
that pronounces her name again and again
her name flows back as a magic river
and I stand on a rock in the past,
time, I once told her, is magical
and meaningless as magic too is,
that amounts to nothing, yet we rejoice.

The hysteria of night is mellow wine,
she told me not to remember her again
she was magic, magician's special design,
appears and disappears at will, one would think
but no,  every magic lasts for a while.
The parting kiss was most passionate ever,
can interpret dreams, how can one explain this?

The hysteria of night begins when moonbeams
fall on us, she gets the message from
an unknown source, from the depth at first,
she makes me touch her left breast that transmits it,
I used to wonder about the need for rituals,
now I understand what it means.

We were possessed by the hysteria of universe,
to create, empower each other by our
frenzied caresses with fingers of love
that are long, long and search, reach to the depth,
long moments of love becomes a gooey broth
in which we flow, float, play and peak.
K Balachandran May 2014
An acrobat of love is she,
who contorts,  sensing
which way he loves to move,
constantly making spirited coos.
In all aspects of love, lots of times this is what happens
May 2014 · 2.3k
An echo of the big bang
K Balachandran May 2014
He felt her
inner thunder,
waves of scarlet
reverberating
in his *****;
deep in the marrow
a pleasant tingling.
"Your sun spoke to me,
his insistence, very pleasant
reached me as waves"
later she coyly
whispered in his ears.

Let go all pretensions,
honestly compare notes
of hearts, the magic happens.
              They created their
big bang on a sprawling bed,
all are echoes, he, she and the rest.
Even the universe that pulsates
within and spreads outwards
as waves.
May 2014 · 3.5k
Norwegian nightmare therapy
K Balachandran May 2014
Munch,
munching your voiceless scream
from thick air surrounding him all day long,
he screamed in all colors you painted,
in a nightmare, all night long,
healed, got up fit as a fiddle
in the new morn ready to face a day,
just the same as before,
the cycle  goes on.
Edward Munch, Norwegian painter, The Scream(1893)
May 2014 · 1.2k
A celestial treasure
K Balachandran May 2014
Every time she smiles,
I read without fail
on her face thus:
"wealth belonging to cosmic treasure"
K Balachandran May 2014
I nip your soft bud
ever so tenderly
during my nightly visits
to make you open your eyes,
and blush, I love the flush
spreading on your cheeks
mademoiselle,
                     but you bit
my probing lips lovingly hard,
it gave me new ideas
that you didn't expect me to carry out
in presence of morning mist, curious
that peeped from outside
the limits of this quaint pond.
I love the honey seeping out
without any effort from my part,
I am a blue beetle that loves
to smear yellow pollen all over.

Look! your buds aren't soft now,
*****, they have become truculent,
if they want to rub me wrong
do you think, I'll back off?
I am game for a tete-e-tete,
better now, than later.

A beetle that find cozy warmth
within the purple folds of your petals tight,
every night; being a lotus
you should know what I seek,
let's get it together, single-mindedly
warm, fragrant, cuddly lover.
May 2014 · 725
Her magical attaire
K Balachandran May 2014
all she wears
is a smile
May 2014 · 788
Just a remembrence
K Balachandran May 2014
Written by a failing hand, shaken by grief,

on a dark display board of time, perhaps distorted a bit

I 'll be just a remembrance, later, fighting an ongoing  battle

with the hands of life that constantly erase,

marked as a doleful couplet, not easily forgotten,

a sad verse that forces one to contemplate

before falling in to sleep night after night

threatened by many unsettling thoughts.


A seed carried along, by the spirit of my ancestors

from a purple dawn, in distant past

an unbroken chain in DNA strand,

which dad with a smile tied within me,

love, dreams, chants for peace, unfailing silver light

love for an immortal tune that always rings in my psyche,

a primordial sound that creates reverberations.

I am a memory my sons commune within loneliness

on a day in future and looks out through

the window, to hear the wind hum along

in an unknown land, a flash of light

that helps to move through coagulated darkness,

look! there appear few drops of tears

on the corners of those eyes.
K Balachandran May 2014
Lone star in the firmament of my dark night of pain,
tell me where did my beloved go leaving me behind,
used to repeat, every minute, can't live without me near her,
but as twilight fell and i came running to our rendezvous
what i see is the empty seat, she used to sit waiting for me
and sing, when sun goes down and breeze caresses her softly.
K Balachandran May 2014
A gulf of emotions lies deep
between him and her right now,
she stands unmoved for long
on her island of grief.

He stands on the firm land
just an earshot away
waving  frantically at her,
as if everything is alright.
She just struts towards him
a bit, her face still inscrutable,
as if she has completely forgotten
her role on the play she is in.

Now, in a boat he goes around the island
and urge her to take a plunge;
is she afraid to jump and swim in the cold water
or she likes it there alone,
though cut off, from mainland,
comfortable in that island?

The jazz band playing in the background
sensed the change , stunned, has fallen mute.
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