I encounter,
innocent
wonderment
in its
thunderous loudness,
in the eyes
of a child,
standing alone,
looking at a
giant wheel turning at
mind-boggling speed.

Within the silence of my soul,
I watch this: one dresses up as many,
all merges in to one,
am I a partner, witness, victim
or none of the above?

Every squabble I had,
with lovely dark night,
was about her obsession
with light.

Black widow too
can have  her eye on wild pleasures.
Nature, allows her, to have her way-
like others;  beware!

Spider, that wily enchantress,
ogled through the gossamer web-
she meticulously spun for me,
*I was entrapped that very moment!

In love with words,
I imagine, words dance to my tune;
**wisdom of ages reveals:
I just follow, words lead.

I never reveal to my mind
who i  am,**
when it has a conjecture,
I decline, command: "search yet again"

Thank you Joseph Nye,
for showing what 'soft power' could;
The stories her eyes tell,
has that, I am aware!

Covering the wall of my reality,
hangs the mirror of illusion;*
on its quirky plane,
I see reality's lateral inversion.

He couldn't hide disappointment,
"What happened?"
The flower said with a sigh,
**"I bloomed late"

Pretend to be a flower,
never touched by wind.*
Think I am the wind you anticipate,
come, let's embrace!

Last night in her dream,
a lightening struck,  enlightenment dawned;
In panic, she woke up,
found she was **safe!

Longing, that swift little bird
Sitting on the swinging branch of her heart,
Got impatient, waiting,
*Flew up and peeped through her eyes.

Quite possible,
This world doesn't exist:
You now dream to read,
What I didn't write.

Reality has just two eyes,
imagination has thousands;
a night sky full of winking stars,
orchestrating a hyper reality!

After sunset
life gets hectic,
music sets fire to hearts,
**night dies till the dawn comes.

Bewitching eyes, you wouldn't tell lies,
the resplendent polished diamond,
radiant in your depth-
i clearly see; your soul!

Her magic carpet flies me there,
pleasure is the land,
none desires to leave  ever;
but can't stick beyond limit.

Seven dark women-
each alone, without men,
(no one knows
the fate of even one
among their men)

and,

seven green men
without women,
(couldn't they find the right ones ?
or had a problem with their  guns?)

holed up in their messed up rooms,
they wrote poems, as  penance:

all their poems  became one!
(as if a black magic woman
played a trick, binding 14 rooms
with her spell)

**And that poem won!

On the pinnacle of pleasure,
a throbbing red flower;**
vying with each other to reach there,
in bliss they collapsed!

You wrote on my wall.
those words stirred my soul,
leaning against your throbbing words,
**I dream about your world.

An echo endlessly reverberates-
across the cosmic serpentine space;
what sound gave birth to it,
no one knows!

I shouldn't have fallen in love with that breeze,
she promised to come back,
who doesn't know
**that never happens!

When i smiled,
did you see the tear drop-
in a corner of my eye?
*it glistened, none saw it.

Bid me to sit, singing at your door,
by hugging me swiftly-
with your naughty eyes,
let there be love!

Ancient fort
surrounding the top of a mount,
reminding the formation of  an invading army,
built on queer shaped steep rocks.
Sedimented  layers of silence
centuries old, lay heaped all-round
unnoticed by dazed visitors.
Tales of blood, tears and heartbreaks
this fort has told aloud,
reverberated through the hill sides
for many successive generations,
making silent nights fill with
the sobbing sounds of village folks,
have now become muted.
This ancient fort is a memorial
of many things, men and women of yore-
marked with their lives;
valor, honor, and courage,
taking death as the answer to many vexing questions.
A time when '**** and get killed in a heroic fight'
was above all other dictates of life.

Dragon flies in swarms,
like the reincarnation of soldiers
killed in hundreds in internecine wars,
invade the skies above the fort,
in a manic mood of war.

I close my eyes,
obliterate time and space
just for a moment
and see darkness,mourning the death of light.
**Who will dream lasting peace now at least-
to make  all wars come to an end?
perhaps, countless forts, castles and garrisons, around the globe,
once shed blood, that flowed like rivers in all our lands.

How do the birds in love kiss?
the thought just confused;
then wisdom dawned,
*they bill and coo, more subtle!

Every time she undresses,
I see  flames on her mons *****,
the mystery flabbergasts;
a figment of my amorous imagination?

On palm leaves granddad's stylus wrote,
dad took a quill first, then there was fountain pen,
when i pour my mind,
it appears on a  computer screen,
*tomorrow is another day,
with its own design.

Why this ant,
(just being  serious or truculent,
male of female
who can tell?)
likes to run up
my left leg
biting here and there.
what is it
trying to arrive at?
Is it my accurate taste,
or some thing other than that?
what is in its mind?

Her greatest fear was
going color blind,
invoking domino effect,
she embraced rainbow colors-
whenever a chance she found.
Now, she walks at the front
as if she is the official bearer of colors
in our frenzied blueberry hunt,
up in the high ranges of Western Ghat's
tropical rain forests.
Our nostrils are special,
"colors we see, make us madly sing"
chants rend the air when-
fragrance of ***** blooms wafted in the air.
"Just like the smell when python opens mouth"
said a voice, to the uninitiated,

"Quit white, paint everything coal black,
or is it the other way round?"
"This place is magical can't make a choice"
"Look! I found a serious irregular lake down there"
"I didn't realize I was walking  in rounds, around a closed mall"
"White light is a cheat, pixie laid us  is in the village green"
"Y'll fall down"
"Green was what i asked for
got thick,red, gooey mud"
"Why panic?"
"Hey meet Mr.Yellow smile,
kiss him a pretty, magenta
***** thought, good night"
"I've a deep blue psyche,
in nightmares I see ***** whales"
"Wounded bleeding heart,
she was nursed back to health
it beats me,
she limped back to her old green monster"
"Hear that distant drums?
brick red monster of the woods
mating with a black cat"
"A ritual of the tribes?
is it meant as a crude joke?"
Sitting under a tree shade,
I hear for the first time in my life,
a white ant's dark wintry song,
lilting,  it spoke about the life
as the queen ant's *** slave.

"Hey love this ***** magical feat,
anything is possible,
how reality takes a beat"
"**** it, three times over,
on the bank  of the river,  then in water.."
"Blue grass, blue grass
sing all the way up to the mountain pass,
where ***** plants grow thick like ***** thoughts,
a nightingale in funky dress
singing  ***** songs and regale all"
"That lush lass, her hair tied with a red bandana
is a smart ***, **** her"
Someone screams in delight,
evening spreads a magical light,
more laughter, catcalls,
the sassy chick just LOL
Pass..pass

A big headstrong hornbill, surveying the scene,
gives a mating call
the hillside reverberates with its sound.

(C) K.Balachandran
[email protected]

The wind chime told her,
"Be my lover"
A flower, its scent and the wind, too were suitors,
*what would become of her?

She didn't ask,"Make me thy flute"
or "Hold me tight"
**that longing sharpened look-
tugged at my heart strings!

My luscious fruit of Eden,
irresistible, your lure, though forbidden,
to winds i throw caution
paradise is lost, passion won.