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 Oct 2013 Abhijit
K Balachandran
She appears a determined stare or the other, a drop of tear,
he oscillates like a pendulum, between her changing moods-
that take him by surprise.But he is blissfully at ease.
His swing every moment, spans between love and an empty space,
ebullient life and dark forgetfulness without any end.
On the periphery everything appears to have a symmetry,
in the river,water rushes towards the sea, watching it from the bank,
one thinks everything goes fine, but to see what happens in life
one needs to look deeper in to the current, keep ears closer to the ground
to understand. Love has more power than even tempered iron, you'll see,
if you understand how it works on every situation,
even surpassing your own estimation.

                 "Come hither" her  eyes plead without even words, he quickly responds,
                    his heart allows it to happen even without a thought.
                   The wind, not giving any hint, swiftly moves and caresses the flower,
                   Love is blind, plays it's games, without even logic, would you believe?
                   Let's just flow together, forgetting everything else.
Here for two years... 1300 poems posted
More than 400,000 reads..Thank you dear friends of HP community for the reads, feed back and
nurturing in every which way possible.  How can I express my love to one and all in words?
Bala
 Oct 2013 Abhijit
Lauren Marie
I have this amputated vision of beauty
I feel I am supposed to be
A specific set of criteria
I am expected to meet:
Shaped perfectly
Delicate and light
Designed and idealized
Like a crystal champagne glass.

Gripped with only *******
And a pinky erectly raised
To signify elegance
An object with little weight.

People would want me;
They would press their lips
Against my rim
Taking a sip
Taking me in.

They would tilt their head back
Scoff and laugh
Gabbing about the day they had
Conversations over choosing paint swatches
“Lemon or cornsilk, the choice is too difficult."
God forbid they pick plain yellow.

Flashing fake teeth
Giving compliments they don’t mean
Over 30 and still gossiping.

Is that who I am?
Is that who I really want to be?
This idea of a human
Consumed with aesthetic beauty
A mere champagne glass
But made out of plastic.

I am not a champagne glass
I am in a different class.

I am a hand painted mug
Born in a ceramic painting store
Surrounded by various pottery
Cups, plates, figurines, galore.
In walks a girl with the desire to create
Make something beautiful
To love and adore.

Everything she is
Was placed into that mug
Favorite designs
Her inability to stay within the lines.
But these
Little intricacies  
Is what gives her beauty.

Perfect isn’t relatable
In fact, it’s unattainable.

I am a mug
Cold and heat tolerant
I can be roughly handled
Won’t break from a drop
Off a counter top.
Ask that of a champagne glass
Watch a breeze,
Have it fall to it’s knees
And shatter into pieces.

Thin
Breakable
And only seen
Under the hand of another’s command.
Put back when finished
Into my showcase
Until the next holiday
With only one purpose:
To be used for looks.

I am a mug
Not societies type
But does that make me ugly?
Say that to the little girl
Look in her eye
Watch her cry
Tell it to her face
Bring her to shame.

Why do we talk to each other this way?
We need acceptance
Not lessons
On how to have the best this and that.

I am not a champagne glass
So am I automatically fat?

Tell that to the little girl
Strip her of innocent purity
Give her insecurities
Distorted imageries
Of who she should be.

My mother believes
Her perception is the exception
“Be a lady”
“Be dainty”
“That dress isn’t very flattering”
“Do you hear me, Lauren Marie?”

I hear you mother
And all your opinions
But I am not open
To accepting any of them.

You love me entirely
But your words bully me
Like bullet in my chest
It’s hard to walk away
Feeling anything but less.
You’re in denial
Because you treat me like a child
I will never be
“Little Miss Perfect Lauren Marie”

I don’t want to be a champagne glass
Because I don’t drink
I’m not one for wine
I'd rather have tea.

Grab a mug, please mommy
We can cuddle together
And I’ll read my poetry.
But I see
You’re still reaching
For that crystal glass in me.

We own a kettle
One day you’ll want tea.
 Oct 2013 Abhijit
eccentricities
I stand there, avoiding the instance of your coming
letting the noise drown my thoughts
allowing the wind to remind me to move on
restricting any word to escape my mouth

But my senses always got the best of me

I feel you
My skin could not contain it's longing to be held again
I hear you
My ears immediately focus on your husky voice
I smell you
My nose has never been so familiarized to a scent
I see you
My eyes lose control but manage to cancel everyone else in the room
I almost talk to you
My mouth chokes and reminds itself that I am its master
I let this mutiny pass with the exception of my words
Restraint is our motto
But I guess I couldn't avoid the unplanned rendezvous of our eyes

You're coming closer
Your eyes filled with determination
filled with comfort
filled with happiness
While mine remain the total opposite
You comfortably say, "How are you?"

How dare you

You managed to make my mind lose it's control once again
You have manipulated it to reminisce a tormenting past
Something I thought I have trained it not to do
Ruining my scripted response of "I'm fine"
Messing up the story line in a matter of three words
My eyes are telling a story
I hope it's language is foreign to you

My eyes
I recall you saying it was my best asset  
And often I would close it, an action I'm restraining at the moment
You know I closed it when you touched me
Setting my skin ablaze with the feeling of security
I closed it when you carelessly said "I love you"
Making my gullible heart get too attached
I closed it when you cuddled me
Wanting to get lost in the moment
I closed it when you kissed me
Hoping the feeling will last forever
I closed it when you stopped all these
Wondering what I was doing wrong
I closed it when you were texting someone else
Dying to know who, but afraid to ask
I closed it when you lied to me
Wishing you would take it back
I closed it when you left me
A moment tattooed in my vision
Open or closed, I see it
And others see it too

Your question remains unanswered by words
I will not close my eyes
Not this time
I'm just staring
Directly at your beautiful pair
Half-hoping you see it too
My eyes that scream "Save me"
Louder than what my lungs can reach
For this is the most effective way to respond

Everything made sense
And my senses were playing along
But you walked away naively
And what hurt me the most was the fact that
You
read
my
*eyes
(I guess Superheroes only save the pretty ones huh?)
This is my first poem here. Please give me some constructive criticism if you can, I would really appreciate it! - a.b.
 Jul 2013 Abhijit
Ghazal
Gentle breeze
Tickles my toes
Rocks me softly
Back and forth
On the swing,
Arms wide open
Legs outstretched
But not quite touching the Fore.
Head propped backwards
But not quite returning to the Before.
Eyes with comfort
Fluttering, closed
Simply suspended.
The Present, the Now,
Illuminating my very core.
 Jul 2013 Abhijit
Ghazal
Untamed!*
Its landlocked audacity!
My arrogant city
Needs a sea.
 Apr 2013 Abhijit
K Balachandran
The waters are languid, in a thoughtful mood,
the waves reluctant to touch the shores,
the beach is deserted with last evening's sounds
still lingering in disguise as seagulls' calls.

The cove has let you take it over as a whole,
you are the daughter of the freedom's waves,
standing waist deep in water, let the waves-
play with you like the fluffy kittens you love.
Your eyes droop, with happiness, a sweep
of emotions beyond words dab your face with a glow,
mate call of gulls, unhurried caresses of the waves,
salty taste on your lips, ethereal is this moment.

You gently give yourself to the cantering waves,
they take you around few times on their back,
when you emerge from the waves adorned by
pearls of water beads, sun's purple fingers
gently so gently tickle your naked *******.
 Apr 2013 Abhijit
K Balachandran
Bamboo shoots, cooked in oil,
we munched were delicious. The tender love,
we shared, in our sojourn, in the lodge
deep inside the forest, had complemented it.
She was a playful tigress, transformed
by the atmosphere, with a manifested ****** interest,
different from her usual demure self.
One thing led to another, we fed each other,
heady vintage wine, from our mouths,
till we found out, in such circumstances,
love would make us do things,
we never imagined we could.

The sketch she made depicting us,
as two wild elephants, in musth*
rummaging the bamboo grove,
eating shoots to our fill,
reminded *Shiva and Parvathi, his consort,
taking the form of elephants
indulging  in every possible play amorous,
culminating in the birth of Ganesha,
the cute God, elephant faced,
the remover of obstacles.

Love drunk the song  we both sung,
was one of innocence.
The booming wind in bamboo leaves,
suddenly changed tune, sounding like ankle bells.
Dense, dark, green womb of forest
and the flow of wind above, like a blood stream,
kindled the prenatal memories, from deep down,
and as the background score,
cacophony of unknown birds of many feathers.

We swam in the lukewarm water,
of a day so different, with joyous abandon.
A voice mysterious, spoke in my blood stream:
"Be like birds, wind on bamboo grove, elephants seeking what they want,
the love you share would bring, fantastic results,
the world, would look far more simple,
life and death cease to be riddles, just natural,
shadows vanish, no fear remains in deep caves,
everything gently flows, like a clear river to the ocean"
Musth- Periodic condition of highly aggressive behavior of male elephants.
*The legend is about Lord Shiva, the destroyer ("the master of dance")in Hindu pantheon
 Apr 2013 Abhijit
Melissa Nye
A young girl
Of 23
Once said that she was inspired to write an album
Thanks to the works of Neruda.
She said that it was the line,
"Love is so short, forgetting is so long".
And now she has inspired many others
To write albums, songs and poems
Because her songs are tragic melodies,
That make us laugh, cry and smile.
But the one that makes me feel everything at once,
The line that inspires me,
Like Neruda's line inspires her, reads,
"I feel you forget me, like I used to watch you breathe".
And although I haven't watched someone I love breathe,
Because I was wary that he wouldn't wake up,
This lyricist captures emotion and makes me feel like I have.
Now, somehow I know what it is like to be forgotten,
And what it is like to "watch your life in pictures".
There is something marvelously strange,
About how she manages to make me feel an emotion I have never felt,
Simply because, she knows how to write a song.
 Apr 2013 Abhijit
Saumya
My Boat
 Apr 2013 Abhijit
Saumya
Watching the night sky,

all I want is to fly,

so far away,

where there are no hardships in the way,

away from all the worries,

in a land of fairies.



Watching life change its course,

opening and closing various doors,

I try to grab every opportunity that comes my way,

to row my boat a long way.
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