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Dec 2012 · 1.2k
An astounding world within
K Balachandran Dec 2012
Astounding things, await you, but
happen only on the stage of mind,
beyond that is the realm boundless,
all cosmic magic, true abode of everything.

Donning my costume, I am a string tuned,
expectant to start the play I wrote for myself,
on  stage, when the curtain will go up
only that magical moment decides ,

The daily grind is a mere repetition
from morning till dusk and beyond,
In between I peep through the window
and get a glimpse of mind's sky, star studded,

Loneliness my mistress, is a daily visitor,
an age old and true love who never fails to please,
kissing deeply on my lips a few times she leaves,
only to come back and take me to bed with her,

Strangers become sweethearts, on my stage,
in a play we act our roles, emote, overwhelmingly
subtle moments gifted,  I shed my worn out self, a stranger here,
*my dramatic monologue rings out loud, "What are you, life?"
Dec 2012 · 660
Style is the man (woman)
K Balachandran Dec 2012
Her devotion to 'Chicago manual of style' was phenomenal,
I was an ardent follower of style book of Associated Press,
Our loyalties,  were based on sound arguments, yes,
the  result;  we did split, and the writing stood where it started!
The style war is only indicative.
Dec 2012 · 763
Love at work
K Balachandran Dec 2012
Like a cloud,
         colored by sun,
            the way he wishes,
                as the day progresses
changing in to
myriad forms
in the hands of wind;
              love transforms,
           one to other
many splendors,
still a constant,
isn't it a wonder?

Your eyes
             like diving fishes
                   search my depths
through my eyes.
They playfully
splash and swish
       in mind's waters,
         causing a wistful feeling.
Your lips quiver,
          fluttering like a bird,
                       that wants to fly
and sit at the top branch-
my expectant heart.
                
K Balachandran Dec 2012
1
In petrified personal history
far back in a page, this image-
a boy, eyes shut
lays supine embraced by
mother earth.A wakeful dream.
His bare body, smells
sweat, hay, mud, pollen
and grasshopper songs,
resonating in his ears still,
the sacred morning mantras;
his Hindu mother's incessant chants-
to appease mother earth.
* Shanthi..Shanthi..Shanthi
Peace descends on magical wings.

2
He feels time standing still
like trees frozen on a windless morn,
Earth was the mother, the presence,
that poured in to consciousness
music without sound,
an warm embrace without touch,
that painted the inner world with
her myriad colors.

3
Earth where secrets spurt, spread and die down as ashes,
my windy bed, gentle balm, end of every hunger,
I've dug deep in to yielding earth,
on those days of rustic childhood,
in a frenzied exploratory spirit,
prompted by a deep primordial urge,
that kept churning my dark inner caves,
with unknown currents, perhaps a wish
to go back as far  as possible,
to the past and find the nest where memories slept,
where my history lay buried in layers,
unhatched eggs of dinosaur past,
waiting to be discovered,
by the probing hands of present and future.
Perhaps a desire to reconnect with past,
now crusted secrets of an uncertain time,
that would talk to me in cryptic codes
of life, death and transcidence
and in a flash reveal what it all means
to an intergalactic traveler on eternity's wings.

4
My eager body gets smeared with soft earth,
covered at places with sticky mud that exudes
a sensuous scent,
                           feel of a woman, that takes one
to the unreal plane of a savage urge,
that arises from depth, a yearning to melt in to her,
to give birth to a future that would bring back
in a new form, the histories of yore,
on   the starting point once again.

5
Earth, is the sensuous woman, I relentlessly seek,
the destination of my destiny in the end,
the womb, where seeds of my dreams take root,
when I come back to her, to create me all over again,
with her elements, minerals and salts.

                            
* Shanthi-Peace, chanted repeatedly at the end of Mantras
Dec 2012 · 893
A Smile
K Balachandran Dec 2012
A smile
resembles a flower
sometimes, drawn on a paper,
or on a memory wall.Freshly painted.
Imagine me sitting
limbs akimbo, easy, relaxed,
free from all kinds of travel anxiety,
looking high,
at the far end of the transit lounge,
smiling,
looking back at a memory
of a girl/ incident/landscape
I now don't exactly remember,
when,
a girl, sitting across me
in a sort of airport fatigue
looking unreasonably perplexed,
asked, "Are you smiling at me?"
Was I? If only she was my memory!
She wasn't smiling, I noticed.
Dec 2012 · 6.5k
The girl on a motorcycle
K Balachandran Dec 2012
At the busy traffic junction,
lone woman,
                     in red track suit,
astride a motorcycle,
drenched wet in a sudden rain,
                          wait;
                           ­        *thousand eyed desire,
                                        court her in a hurry,
                                              before the red signal light
                                                           ­   turns green.
The scene  reminded me Marianne Faithfull in "La Motocyclette"(1968)
Dec 2012 · 1.0k
The conundrum called time.
K Balachandran Dec 2012
Both hands of clocks,
on each passing hour,
clap childishly,
at the hour precise,
thinking, enigmatic time
was caught,
and arrested for ever,
at long last.
                    But  in every chime
we really hear, the gleeful laughter
of elusive time.
K Balachandran Dec 2012
Shall I compare thee to a mysterious land
that recur in the explorer's dreams, and tempt!
When my eyes were set on you, those doe eyes flashed
a  message, captured by  my genes that made me set out
with a passion never once felt, before or after,
to  the  fecund land awaiting me  with fruits exquisite,
never once touched, none ever tasted.
Those lips in the first flush of youth, told a secret, sought for long,
in bushes birds were hiding in nests, woods were gentle and fragrant,
the little spring,  your  lovely secret, in spate at a distant hint of rain was somnolent,
the hidden sunny meadow invited one to dance,
here the explorer's quest found its mark.
*Though his spirit quenched and at rest, never again will he leave,
this dream, will remain the admirer of this landscape for ever.
Dec 2012 · 1.8k
Moon's vigil
K Balachandran Dec 2012
Evil intentions of the night
gets deflected by moon's vigilance,
she raises her lamp above the clouds,
night taken aback, prowls behind the shadows.
K Balachandran Dec 2012
Sliminess of the mermaid, makes me come alive, strange?
don't blame me for this, that you would think an aberration,
I've long forgotten the human logic, from the moment I realized,
fate has joined me with her, the mermaid, a  longing unfulfilled for long,

This sensual yearning sans prospect of consummation, baffles others
but not me, life has many dark alleyways that go nowhere. 
Aren't we illusions ourselves?  Viewing sun's intense ways and moon's
hesitant tranquilizing gaze, through water's blue buffer is narcotic.
From under water only a  cool simmer , different experiences,
fish fin caresses, guilty pleasures of carousals with masked shark beauties,
underwater world has no pains, ever heard about
stilling pain by swimming long distant nights?
*Or is it because, I don't see my own teardrops shed underwater?
K Balachandran Dec 2012
Less than a queen
she never would be,
the rules will be,
set by her, and others
have to fall in line,
she thought in her, inimitable
self centered way,
though selling it to those around,
had its own difficulties.
Soon she found,
that was not to be,
as the world has rules
set by its laws of movements,
so she fell apart;
he saw her from afar
getting ready, putting on
her space suit, to take off,
without a second thought,
to a parallel universe,
she once detested,
now found attractive,
as she thought it's easy
to curry favour,
the denizens, they will fall pray
to her quick fix charms.
Would she be aware
of the black energy,
that lurks everywhere.
"what else can one say
now that you have decided"
he told that himself.
K Balachandran Dec 2012
As kids, we thought wars were good,
fought with toy guns, the soldiers who fell down dead,
would get up and go home in the evening;
fallacies that shape us in childhood,
come to visit later baring fangs.
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Under the open sky's benevolent eyes,
when everyone in the caravan
was in deep slumber,
                                   his  lonely heart was on fire,
when he felt, someone touching his forehead.
The past he could tell, was catching up with him,
a venerable monk,  a divine presence
with his white, long flowing beard
stood leaning on his long, strong, staff
peering at his face, those eyes, the light of grace,
"Make peace with your past,
make the bats hanging upside down, vanish,
with deep repentance, cleanse your turgid soul,
its in your hands, then see what happens"
rang the Guru's words in his ears.

He rocked all his dark loves to sleep and bid
good bye for ever to his weeping wounds,
Eyes raised skywards, he sought forgiveness
to everyone he did wrong, in silence.
He heard the guru's words repeatedly booming in the wind
"Repent, it would absolve you for ever"
He meditated, till his cloak from black to white transformed.

At the day break, he woke up to a new life,
the ground, was deserted, silence reigned, expectently
No trace of any caravan, did they vanish in to thin air?
The rhythmic pounding of the staff, of the monk,
was it just an illusion of mind, a visitor
at moments of darkness and doubt, bringing light?

To some questions, we don't really expect answers,
the very questions are the answers we look for.

The valley was full of flowers,  and sky
was crowded with robust white clouds, portentous!

**As he was walking down the rocky path,
a woman looked at his face and asked:
"Monk, where did you come from?
aren't you the one they told, would come, no doubt!"
He smiled.Understood.
Nov 2012 · 927
Be The Light And Spread
K Balachandran Nov 2012
When she came back to return
the light she took from him without his consent,
(she thought that's what she did)
with the foot falls of a cat,
he  found she has changed,
beyond his imagination,
had become a beacon of light  herself,
her  darkness fully erased,
so luminant as a morning star,
she too was astonished by the magic of light,
the light she  took away from him wasn't a theft,
it was replenished at once,
* when wholeness is taken from wholeness, wholeness remains.
*Light is limitless when it decides to spread.
*"That(ultimate) is infinite, this is (individual)is infinite,
when infinite comes out of  infinite, infinite remains"
Isa Upanishad
Nov 2012 · 1.0k
The face of truth
K Balachandran Nov 2012
The morning, milky white,
was dripping from sky to earth,
like desert sands, it extends
beyond my mind.
White flows like benediction
of the cosmos, I tell myself,
is it real or the illusion mind creates?
I swim to the depths,
an emerald cave, so familiar
in many lives, comes to sight,
I take the sword kept there
from its sheath, and dive up
cut the chain of illusion with it.
The white blood of silence
gush and spread everywhere,
I gaze at  the face of truth
hidden by golden leaves*
till the moment before.
*"Leaves of gold cover the face of truth. Please remove Oh! ultimate, for me to see the truth of Dharma"
(15th mantra of Ishavasya Upanishad)
K Balachandran Nov 2012
I am waiting for a nice girl to cheat me,
noble enemy to beat me,
the sharpest spines of the cactus to hurt me,
and a starlit night to gobble  me up perfectly
leaving nothing  of me behind.
K Balachandran Nov 2012
When a blue magpie told she was beautiful,
she beamed like moon, every moment.
an ogre in dark cloak,
whom she mistook for a magician,
took every bit of her divine fragrance,
in exchange of misery unlimited.
K Balachandran Nov 2012
How can one blame Edward Munch,
for the euphoria of horror
he created by the painting "The scream",
Who doesn't like to get horrified, at the appropriate times?
"I sensed a scream passing through the nature" said Edward Munch on the inspiration, that resulted in the painting  on one evening.But the horror he depicted was strangely euphoric!!
Nov 2012 · 974
A plausible explanation
K Balachandran Nov 2012
The girl he met in the casino said,
she was in a spiritual quest;
"This is not exactly the place for that,
but i try to make the best of every situation"
Nov 2012 · 1.1k
Absolute consciousness
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Wasn't a sound, but I heard,
wasn't a sight, yet I saw,
though I wasn't there
how, I never thought!
wasn't a word, or bird,
present or past ,
east or west,
presence
or absence
neither me
nor you
or anything.
everything
is
present
in consciousness.
**In nothingness
pervades,
consciousness
absolute,
as essence,
that
has no
names.
silence.
Nov 2012 · 862
In Praise Of Your Fingers
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Your long, loving  fingers, live lives varied, than I can imagine
even after you left, their presence lingers,
*as a mother in moments of sadness, soothing ever,
impassioned lover at exhilarating peaks.
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Winter nights are the cruelest,
sound of incessantly falling ice,
disturbs.It accumulates,
on the foliages above,
slide,
       and fall
             on the earth
                           with a
                                      thud.
   I am sweating tears,
my heart bleeds; a pain-
I can't share with anyone,
as you aren't near.
*My heart develops a hole,
                        I peer inside,
and see you
               sit there perplexed!
K Balachandran Nov 2012
My sadness is divine, has no personal reason,
pain and pleasure are momentary, like human life;
in depth, each experience makes one sublime,
*life is a dance, with death as an invisible companion.
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Life is a seductive maiden,
extending two vials,
looking equally nice,
on her lovely hands
for you to choose from;
one contains, elixir of life,
the other poison
for  slow extinction.
She enigmatically smiles,
making you irresolute;
you have to select one,
here and now, it'll decide,
what your fate will be,
in the long run.
*Don't flinch or dither a bit,
this moment is paramount;
look at her eyes intently
and extract a clue, act!
Happy thanks giving Day\Let this be the message of the day
Nov 2012 · 1.7k
Crossing the Rubicon
K Balachandran Nov 2012
On a rickety bridge,
across roaring Rubicon,
in spate, he stands,
holding on to a
Janus faced moment,
that will decide his fate,
once and for all.

He gazes at the rushing-
red waters, from the hills,
madly impatient to reach the sea,
                                  at the earliest,

akin the ****** frenzy at the ******,
or life racing towards death, to culminate, dissolve.
Some message, he has in it.He looks on, in silence.

Two options, his mind discerns,
cross the river and trudge
to the rendezvous, where
the union has to take place,
with his sweet heart, of long years,
or jump in to the  surging waters
that tempts, from the time of birth,
and submit oneself
to the hands of nature,
and thereby forget all tribulations.


**He shuts his eyes and contemplates,
then, his moment of truth comes.
K Balachandran Nov 2012
One remarkable woman, transparent clear water,I submerged,
made me eschew prejudices of every sort;
*her mind, so pure a lake,
was flooded by the sun,  never reflected any cloud.
Parroting teachers, she used to say  "Eschew obfuscation, espouse elucidation", fully meaning what she said.
Nov 2012 · 1.7k
Mutant lover
K Balachandran Nov 2012
A mutant lover,
now, I 've become,
your creation to a tee.
Different forms I take,
a rabbit, a squirrel,
Tasmanian devil,
or any other marsupial,
a mute nameless animal,
some times even an elephant,
to keep you in good humor,
even when craving for your love.
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Pitch dark night, rock still above woods,
is chiseled by a million fireflies,
in unison with their
mute, synchronised lights.
Nov 2012 · 1.0k
Mating season
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Reclining on the garden bench,
leaning on my shoulder,
your eyes intently watch
something, I notice, though,
in my book,I am engrossed.

Taking eyes off the page,
I scan the the fecund garden,
abuzz with bees, chirping birds,
all kinds of hums and songs of life,
                                  spring brings,
and then, my eyes catch
that scene:your object of intense interest,

Two mating birds, in their frenzy of love;
two love struck mandarin ducks, very colorful.
                                   It's in this season they find, their pair,
                                    and give themselves to shameless lust,
                                   gentle tune of their bodies turning,
                                    intense, scorching their *****.

You withdraw, feeling shy
on your voyeuristic streak,
which i found out, inadvertently,
*but your eyes, cryptically,
make inquiries to me,
"Interested?" I whisper"Of course'
that sounds like an evil hiss
Nov 2012 · 2.6k
Birth of gloomy sunshine
K Balachandran Nov 2012
She was Calamity Jane,
and, he, a ******* of pedigree pain,
not all were lost, a gloomy sunshine was born
out of that stormy liaison.
K Balachandran Nov 2012
When the  skilled matador kills the  magnificent bull,
he kills the  fear within himself, for the time being,
as a desperate escape, from fear;
but the illusion doesn't last, to his eyes the bull dies,
it's resurrection goes unnoticed, in his fear of death.
K Balachandran Nov 2012
A hungry lizard and a contented moth,
both on the wall; I watch the peak moment,
**given the choice, the lizard or moth, I ask myself
and decide, "What if both", here comes the moment of truth!
Nov 2012 · 1.2k
Hit
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Hit
Corner of her dark eye,
in his heart sketched,
lightning's architecture;
he stood transfixed.
Nov 2012 · 1.1k
The Monk And The Jewel
K Balachandran Nov 2012
When the opposites hold hands,
contradictions vanish, the fragrance,
of love wafts in the air, symmetry results;
we would then walk the middle path, Buddha smiles!
    *      
                                  *    
I am me and my other,
the other, my eyes,'I'-ness
is a girl, epitome of pride,
can you believe this?
I am a monk, celibate, walking the path-
of Tathagata, the infinitely merciful,
and she? capricious and young,
just the opposite of me, precisely,
yet, she is the jewel
in the thousand petaled lotus
I meditate on, day and night.
I walk upon the blade
of the gleaming metaphorical sword,
all the waking hours, without spilling
even a drop of blood,
I am the master of my mind,
keep it under my thumb, with an iron hand,
all my guru's grace, I salute him, my master,
I keep my concentration focused on-
the feet of the enlightened one,
before Buddha I prostrate,
**I chant, lift my mind, I hope,
she'll be in the eye of my trance, and evolve,
become the effulgent jewel, beyond compare.
She lives in that tranquil planet,
on the other shore of my mind, which is green ever.
Tathagata(Sanskrit):  One who has thus come/one who has gone to 'that'(Nirvana)The Buddha
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Arresting artificial bloom from a  make believe garden,
Oh! magalomaniacal face of ill gotten glamour,
ribald queen of the kitsch, with endless variety in store,
age, cannot wither your, unmistakable garish taste-
or sadistic delights, each you do organize is outrageous,
than the one before, no doubt, how do you manage?
                  
I'll forget all those in an instance, but, that kiss, oh! that,
the one you gifted, to show you were pleased utmost,
stealthily away from the eyeshot of your posse of lovers,
other cannibals and party animals, under the darkened staircase,
was the last godforsaken straw;
 what a poor camel can do? if you so desire,
beggars, never were the choosers, you'd tell yourself,
in a self congratulatory note,
                      that much I am aware, my dear tormentor!
Nov 2012 · 1.1k
Girl Chasing Breeze
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Wanton breeze,
                          playing
                       ­            Romeo,
                             chases-
                                     you,
                                lifts
                      ­                 your
                                            skirt
          ­                                                up
                                    making
              ­                   me jealous.
Nov 2012 · 611
Men And Women In Winter
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Winter,
covers the trees,
tenderly with fog,
                    and the flowers,
                    gift their fragrance,
                     to the mist to preserve;
                     like the memory of a lover,
                     forgotten after,
                     an intense season of love.
winter
acts on each one,
differently.
                     she said,
                     winter makes her skin,
                     crave for caresses;
                     she is a tree with secret hunger in winter.
                     I have known that all these years.
"my fruits
need your tender care,
all through the winter days"
she murmurs in my ear.

                           I love winter
                           touching me here and there,
                           like a shy bride, curious but timid.

I sense her tender fingers,
creep on to my body,
under the cover.
I get enraptured
by her  amorous touch.
I wake up and pretend
not to notice the ingression,
as it pleases me so much.
Winter has already started knocking on the door, here is my first winter poem, this season.
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Oh! God, after the last metal detector,
of this day for me to pass through,
may the thorough body search to follow,
                                                         ­ *be done by that sultry lass,
                                                          i­n combat uniform,
                                                        ­  eyeing me with desire,
                                                         ­ every time I pass her station.
Nov 2012 · 1.2k
Her sweetness appreciated
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Eager morning light,
              nibbles her little by little;
*isn't it quite evident?
               she is  dainty and fresh!
Nov 2012 · 1.3k
Compatibility
K Balachandran Nov 2012
You are solitude wearing pink,
I am gravity in black,
ardently seeking,
an elusive something.

*let's walk the winding distances,
search for the hidden that
that counts only for us.
Dedicated to the day recording 200,000 reads(since September 2011)
Nov 2012 · 4.2k
Seismic Orgasm
K Balachandran Nov 2012
looking from below,
                               my eyes fix,
on your pleasure contorted face,
in the acute urgency,
of a lush, leafy tree,
                             undulating sinuously,
in the hands of
                           the winds of sensuality,
**at the very moment of
                                    efflorescence.
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Giving her sunny wiliness, full play,
soft  day light demanded to tell,
what sweet night whispered in my ears;
*would I ever reveal the secrets of my lover?
starlight cannot be shared, in any case.
Nov 2012 · 2.7k
Swan Song
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Under the weeping willow tree,
I heard my swan sing one last time,
about truth and illusions,
that broke my heart in to pieces;
winging away from me  for ever,
my broken heart repeatedly told,
**but, how could I stop, a river,
in spate, that won't stop, even if it wants.
Nov 2012 · 701
Truth and beauty
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Beauty awaits him,
on his way to see his love,
sky at dusk presents
eternity's handiwork,
glimpses of truth beyond words
flashes in his mind,
banishing all other thoughts,
he stands transfixed.
Nov 2012 · 828
Janus
K Balachandran Nov 2012
You are the cure
                       and the disease.
Nov 2012 · 762
The dark maiden beacons
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Battered by the waves of life, bone tired,
I enter the chamber of  long night, to sleep naked;
*In a dream she comes, my dark maiden
waiting to take me to the last forgetfulness
Nov 2012 · 660
Loss of meaning
K Balachandran Nov 2012
In my book of memories,
a girl wrote a poem, long ago,
*reading it alone, going back to the page,
the meaning gets upside down.
K Balachandran Nov 2012
No, rhyme or reason,
for this continued consternation,
all, the result of an illusion,
let go the sense of possession, gladly
unleash the  love put on hold,
and be mindful, in living a life
and the vision, you should-
align with, now and ever.
**freedom is a sharpened sword,
wield it with utmost precision.
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Morning quietude rules the glade,
butterflies, thousands are on ground,
spread out colored sprouts-
avidly seeking salt of the earth.
Nov 2012 · 801
Disenchantment
K Balachandran Nov 2012
We merged in a ferocious kiss,
that happened without any design,
your lips tasted like wine, you felt-
mine the same; wasn't it divine!

then, how did that sea change, happen?
*your love tasted brine so soon,
blood in my veins turned poison.
How soon, the fortunes of  a love life turns about, in this mad mad world!
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