It's in her signature scent and erogenous warmth
when her full lips are pressed ******* mine, I bask in,
when a pernicious current flowing  through me makes
my mind spin out of control, how disastrous are
the consequences! I see heavenly bodies gyrating closer,
it's now certain that I'll fall prey to her wild charms,
and gladly be her slave for all the times to come!

What an infamy it would bring to my beloved, forget me,
her beauty immaculate, too will be a suspect then.
Oh! I can't think of it, it'll break my heart for ever,
my sweet Valentine, forgive me for feigning indifference.

Atomized eloquence of the ocean,
heard only by those few  who cared,
i felt, wanted to tell many things, to me
so expected a knock at the door
of my mind. Waited.But it didn't.

                She stood near  me oblivious
                of this in her happiness.
Life is driven by false notions, corrected by experiences
Unsaid words.Scattered things.Do not get astonished.

Waves brought, decomposed sea weeds
and wriggling fish,  sliding against each other
I smelled ***

We were watching waves. 'Savage'
do I have to answer to that?
( sudden exclamation, betwixt silent *******)
The waves tickled our naked feet,
she was happy like a girl
on a date first time ever.Excited beyond limits,
passion of every woman  on being in  water.

'insatiable urge'- a soft voice exclaimed,
(in a room, light gently penetrating in to darkness
I eased my weight against her body)

Shells and bones,
I was thinking, and saw them in my mind,
lying scattered under shifting sands
One  never is fully aware.Though one knows.

Bones
reminder, at last of all that love and hate,
Flesh, completely dissolved, went back to elements.
Sea is like us, men and women
hides so much.Listen and look around, you will see signs!

'You look like a hermit'
she said by way of compliment.
Love is the gleam in her eyes.Evident.
"Is it my shaggy beard?
I am a lecher.Even worse"
i whisper in to her ear,
She took it as a joke,
laughs like the waves,
that go zigzag, for a while.

Yes life, when you look,
after the peeling of wraps,
supposed to be  serious stuff
ends up as joke,
obscene gleam of of white bones,
laughter of white teeth on a naked skull.
Like the avarice of the  never ending waves
signifying nothing in particular.

I was ******* her in my mind,
in water, she  vaguely reminded a water nymph,
stood with hands on both hips
as if she understood my shameful plot,

Her drenched dress stuck to her curves.Lubricious.
Slightly plump, with lithe limbs,
i get a vision of her, squeezing me tight,
in a brutal embrace,
at the precise instant,
the waves of ****** strike.

Waves withdraw,
naked sand bars look like dead whales
under it lies scattered bones.
              O

Muriel, when  our eyes first met and  your name  rolled off my tongue with a fine ring,
felt, I was charged with your sun-filled-sea-radiance from inside out
just the cadence of a name has an unctuous something! I've never known that  before,
just saying it evocatively few times, I felt touching your heart; a golden thread did bind us then.

A gathering storm,
called out to me,
in the voice of clouds:
             " Come out of gloom,
                and meet me, at once"
He too was in love,
buoyant and ready
for this adventure of passion,
breaking, if necessary
everything that stands
between him and his love.

                        There was a storm,
                        brewing in my heart too,
                                                        he knew,
fanning and spreading
  the fire of love
     faster than I can cope.
I ran out and flew
on the wings of the storm.
On the way to the mountains
we reached the rainbow's home,
where my love was waiting
in the wings,
for months of Sundays;
she was at the end of her tether.
                     We didn't have much time left
                        the looming shadow of death
                                 we saw south, at a  distance.
It didn't daunt us,
we dissolved in a flock of white doves-
jubilant white clouds that sailed towards east.
Above blue mountains
what a wonder, our love whispers were louder than thunder!
Then, softly we  fell as sad snow flakes,
on touching earth, we were drops of  sparkling dew.

A cloud of passion from above, signaled to him
to kiss her  burning lips, that look like lightening ,
blindly in love with the ever evasive ethereal swirl,
waiting to be on a date with her desperately for long,
he did it quick; a powerful surge  never felt before
radiated  through him, at  that impromptu moment,
he flew up and dissolved in a flash. without a trace.

Your lovely eyes,
two dark bamboo beetles
bristle with fervor
ready to battle
with mine, seeking truce;
your belligerence,
has a stirring effect.
I am aroused
beyond limits.
    Now is the time to act,
make wild love,
    ending the lovers' tiff.
    I sign the treaty of withdrawal
    with a passion filled kiss,
   summoning all the force
   in your command, you seal it,
   with an incomparable another.

And when at last she fell asleep,
For my sweetheart i kept vigil.
Synching my life breath,
With her rhythmic heart beats,
For her I wrote,this song.
But she couldn't listen, not even once,
Though only for her I weaved it.

Night had her rendezvous with dawn,
At the end of her painful journey with little light,
My love left without a word, never to return
To gift me that lingering,tantalizing, sweet pain,
That makes me real; keeps the lover in me alive.

My orphaned song of doomed love,
Lost all it's meaning at that moment.
Like a lover who lost way to the rendezvous,
It kept on knocking my door, ever after.
In the insistent beating of the sea waves' passion
I heard my lost song ringing once again.
On a night the melancholy moon,went hiding.
I sat alone soaked in pain and sang my song.
It made me melt, I deeply felt,nature too sang along,
In a frenzy, I never ever did witness before.
Then, the pale moon, on an apparel in transparent cloud,
Danced forgetting all her pain , that found expression in many ways.

I now realize,that song wasn't just mine,
It has a life of it's own,in tongues it spoke.
Day and night to lovers, jilted, all those lost by mistake,
Now, it has a life of it's own, independent from all
Anywhere it  would  go alone.

                             I wrote a song, for none in particular,
                             Soon did I realize, it speaks to all pain filled hearts,
                            Love created the wistful mood,
                            My time alone with her filled the words.
                             And one day everyone who heard
                             This song sung,  will leave, but the song won't.

                            The night air will be filled with it's mute waves of pain,
                           On it the distant stars will float.
                            The wind will hum it,the interstellar space,
                            Will echo, it's cadence aloud.
                            Neither the words would  fade
                           Nor my passion for her ever would die.

Yesterday murmured within the earshot of today:
The past has posted  an encrypted message
on your wall, decipher it, take a careful turn,
the road is slippery, life is short.

A weather rocket
vrooms through air
over the darkened balcony
noiselessly,
only the light speaks to us
of her urgency,
it resonates with
her and me.
Her full lips,seal mine
stops me from speaking
voicing ****** nonsense.
Mute witness now am I,
prompted to scale the peak,
she wishes, to take me.
I only can sigh to relay her moans
to register erupting pleasure
mounting to reach a brimming ecstasy.
A group of fruit bats,
(among them one, I imagine,myself)
dramatically fly  scattering
to all eight directions.
A pale moon , eagerly study
their diverse trajectories,
as if she wishes the company
of any one, that would darken her door way
though  by accident.

Your windswept wild red hair, *Tantric fractal,
spreads forest fire in my thoughts,to the far end,
how far can I  go on keeping this endless raging,
a dangerous arsonist in my mind's chamber?
Unchecked, unbridled, not quenched,
shimmering fire with a thousand ember eyes,
come burn my ardor with the essence of red.
my red riding hood, on this Tantric bed spread.

Your passion, unleashed as unkempt wind swept
red cloud  of hair,assumes the forms of our love
now a cascade of water from mountain, after new rain,
splashes all over my mind's fecund landscape,
day and night imbibing the effect of your red wine
anointing  cool, love balm, I get inebriated.

Your red, fluffy,earthy textured, magic coiffure,
becomes  a sea of infinite calm,in my stormy nights.
I whisper to air"I want to taste the salt of her earth,
I want to swim in the confluence, her red flow commences,
If I'd  be buried within the red earth of her dense hair,
I'll be resurrected, re imagined by her as her immortal lover"

I would dip in that spring,
never full, but in spate
at such moments
of deep engagement,
with the cryptic voices of nature.
In a rush of passion
I would reach for those
lovely peaks that shiver
as if by tremors
that rumble deep below.

With my trembling heart,
I would catch your broken song,
though out of tune,
thrills and urges me,
to do whatever pleases me.
You are a cloud transparent,
that envelopes moon
with swift hands of wind,
the swirls, the twists and  the turns
aren't us, but nature, in glorious motion,
dancing in tune with our essence.

In effulgent moments, like sky birds,
when we transcend limits,
lips, parched leaves
quickly swell up like orange slices,
love in swift moves creates wonders
with its magic wand.

Experience now,
the music of motion,
an explosion
in which we are thrown up,
to a state of timelessness,
and at last hands entwined,
we walk in the garden
where wild orchids in bloom
paint our dream in vivid colors.

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.

Her mind is a thicket, never once pruned,
her heart is in turmoil, weeping blood
she puts on thick makeup, artfully smiles
her mirror image laments,"Are you relevant?"

The rarest orchid bloomed in my garden, to you I cheerily gifted,
it's fragrance you heartily inhaled, making me smile,at my poetic best
a rose, deep red, a representation of your heart,I suppose, you presented,
but, did you pause,see how was I transformed, when I deeply kissed it?

Her frizzly silk mop,
Flowers in sparkling grey fizz;
My Bodhi perfect !

A trek to the golden peak,
of clarity of every kind,
she had taken up earnestly
as her singular mission all along.
Near  the  upper reaches,
at the difficult terrain,
without any admonition,
an avalanche.
Her ego, frozen and hardened,
rushed towards her,
blocked further progress,
for ever,
like a wall of resistance.
She tried her best
to venture forward,
but she had lost the path
completely by then
and didn't know which way to turn.

That little star
on the bank of milky way,
watching the flow with wonder filled eyes,
is my unborn daughter.
In my dream I see her
crying to sit cozily on my lap,
with her winks of starlight,
she pleads with me  to tell her
sweet stories till she sleeps.
Soulfully she sings for me
the songs my beloved brought
from distant eons.
A ray of light from her
becomes love itself,
a flood of tenderness
sweeps  me off my feet.
Sweet transcendence
binds us together
across light millenniums
that had come and gone.
I am delight personified sitting
on the lap of limitless universe;
I am a dream that conjures up,
whatever seems real in my mind.

There is a heavily barred chamber between,
the bitter end of reality and the dream gone dark,
she was locked up there with a window open
to the nightmare created with marvelous illusions.
with a start, she saw little angels with clipped wings
looking out through the gaps of barbed wires
of a window, more of a hole on the wall, on the top floor.

They looked too young, trapped, blooming buds,
and they started to wave wildly at her, perhaps
thinking she could somehow help, take them out,
she felt dazed, as if a poison arrow hit her chest,
everything was dipping in dark, didn't look good at all,
felt like crying, she remembered, tears dried up, long before

from a safe distence seeing all this he felt crying out loud,
but didn't forget, he is only a butterfly, with fragile wings.
a girl with painted lips, he noticed was blowing a kiss
to a man in the balcony, perhaps.he didn't clearly see
his face, but why such affection, they didn't look like lovers!

The setting sun, he thought was fiercely crying,
with, heat , light and deepening shadows, that dance,
her eyes, indolent, fixed on a flower bed, a girl was
talking to her lover boy"Äll good things in life dwindle"
as if suggesting it's all over once and for all between them,
close by sitting on  a tired flower, preparing to close,
the butterfly saw the swarms of bees of night, approaching.

An army of ants, black, brown, red and white, in disciplined columns,
each one no less than any other,armed to the teeth, ready to ****
on their marauding march,find this giant, not a day too long ago was
too fierce as a man,  whose reign of  terror was most feared, lying still,
as if all those deeds were  incidental,and he in no way is to be blamed.

They are equanimous, the ants, next wave, this is no more than just debris,  this relic from the past, for them, something to be dealt with,
the army of disciplined ants, as per their manual, meticulously inspect,
whether the body has some strength  left somewhere in the system,
to pull together rise, overcome the fatigue of a life full of misdeeds
not nice to remember,  counted all the same as glory by sycophants.

They want to finish the work fast, fearing the return of the nightmare,
busily they went on doing what they are good at,they had their brief,
from the command center ,to clear up the debris from the battle front,

The last of the ants leaving  the gnawed white bones,  under moonlight,
writes the epitaph on sand,with it's spindly legs,thus:"This fort too fell"

Breeze shuffles leaves,
returns to caress the fruits missed,
soft tete-a-tete

Sitting cross legged on earth, in the wilderness alone quiet,
I meditate,on the single sprawling tree, in her poetic best,
verdant and robust, I wouldn't fail to see how ceaselessly
she did strive, in  reinventing herself moment after moment.

A bird, dedicating her song to the evening's evanescence,sings on,
like nothing else ever matters to her, even after it's end,
as she has known her inner-self better, by making her songs
more relevant, each time  than before,and than the songs of others,
without any reason particular, more by a compulsion mysterious.

While delving in to the depth of that compulsion, Marianne Moore,
I feel present in my mind, she is the tree fighting the creative battle,
not to  dislike her own creation,the bird with persistent compulsion.

Arrows her eyes shoot, are  sharpened by a silver light ethereal,
her heart, excited like a migratory bird, is ready to start, any moment,
they simultaneously practice for exactitude in the art of the dart
precision is enhanced after every consecutive try, I the target, gather,
my ever chivalrous heart, is ready to to receive it all, undaunted
as it gets late, expectant heart, slightly frets,
 why hasn't she yet started to shoot at the target, straight?

I'll be healed by water,
my ruling element,
pouring love of my woman,
drenching me not only
from head to toe,
but also deeply inside my psyche!

A memory of adolescent days emerge,
from the snapshots strewn,
without tags and dates.
Copious rain, coconut palms-
dance like women in trance,
two agile hands,
love me with a frenzy,
that create delight, that has no words.

"You are my child"
she would murmur
in a voice, fuelled by affection
beyond words, distilled love of the first love
and womanly desire that slithers
around my torso,
like a serpent in heat
in search of its mate.

She was a waterfall,
drenching my fiery heart
and steamy *****,
I'll be healed
of my blind desires,
and absolved of my adolescent sins,

Your purifying rights are mysterious,
my first encounter with a woman's forbidden world,
make me rich and profound beyond words,
You drain me in to your
fathomless waters

We are a river,
confluence of two,white and blue Nile
two serpents in heat.

I was in a delirious sleep,
with out time or space consciousness-
I woke up dreaming Cleopatra
with a poisonous serpent on her left breast,
The woman I loved had gone to the
depth of Nile of yesteryears

the cigarette smell her breath emits
disturbs the delicate orchid,
it refuses her fragrance
using inhibitors,
as a retaliatory
measure.

A tree, stands alone  in the misty, interior forest,
frozen, bark to the core,agitated, in the blizzard and gale
only embrace mother nature now blesses him with,
yet  full of hope and all ears  for something,humming, then-
comes alive suddenly as if a new season of efflorescence
has begun, a cycle of youth,gentle love of butterflies.
A haunting note of wafting music, wakes up the soul
the sky high tree has already forgotten, is rising above the din
booming, sonorous from the deeper part of cosmos.
The tree listens and a transformation begins in every
small root, tiny leaf and allover, the tree left in the
heart of the forest to the mercy of forces is, you know who
the music that enlivens me once again is you my love.

He makes her stay, in his memory for yet another day,
didn't she wait, without the sign of desperation in anyway,
the world has it's callous ways, they were mute witnesses it seemed
she understood, he kept silence, hoping for the best; did he pretend?

In each garden he strolls, she appears as a flower, he struggles to forget,
in every flower he kisses she is the musky scent that makes him faint
on a rainy day, he stood enchanted, watching a peacock dance,
the eye- spots on it's feathers about her love eloquently spoke.

He lives a life went awry,can't blame it on her, she never complained,
it's him, who erred as a lover,the silent apathy that brewed destroyed,
misled by it's  blue hue he chose poison, that numbs,a grave mistake
facing mountain ranges, alone, he seeks forgiveness for his corruption.

Black
is dripping from
the clouds.
White,
storks are
painted black.
Red
rain lashes
raising alarm.
Green
fields are turning grey
before our naked eyes.
Blue
skies are
beyond eyeshot
always.
Yellow
leaves
fall all through
the year.
The globe
acquires a
new wardrobe
beware!

Blackness entirely claims my rainbow now, your eyes stare at a stranger,
                your heart no more remembers the beats of mine.
Walking through the labyrinths of time, I too find you aren't there-
     any more.The river has vanished under the sands,
no regrets for forgotten promises of sea waves, the children of oblivion,
       we foolishly took the hand of a dark night, for guidance,
still, I falter forward in the light of love, faintly flickering inside,
         kindled when the night was still young, we were  innocent
and sweet like tender coconut water.Now that tree too is felled.

A succulent fruit, I desire, yet strange,  never wish to eat,
my love, you've  ever been, breathtakingly bewitching!
How couldn't I wake  up to this truth sooner, I wonder,
being too aware, perhaps that this heart has no replacement.

Her peals of laughter, gently rocks, wakes him up
takes away from a midnight dream's warm embrace,
one dream to the other, what she is up to, he feels bit cheated,
like many times before, bit weary of misleading senses,
they are friends of course, distractors too, if unaware of their penchant

Perking his ears he listens, wind whistling in the woods,
rain drops on leaves create sounds of soft laughter.
Every where she is, the nymph, the ethereal presence,
in dreams, in the spirited dance of clouds, in swirl of water
and waves, when the birds play flute from their perches,
in flights that seems meditative trances beyond mind.

She is tranquility incarnate, beauty that grabs mind's eyes
mother who consoles at the time of distress and pain.
The night is silent again, the rain clouds too left to rest
yellow clad moon peeps above the clouds, many gifts we
forget to enjoy, some times without being aware, one leaves

Every somnambulist must find alone, a thorny path-
through, encircling hedges of dark night and gloom;
between dreams and reality's abyss, mine has a beacon,
*with my eyes wide shut, I walk toYou, my only flame!

No more a hidden
continent,
now I know
the last of the secrets
you hold
within your geography.
Your armpit sweat
smells hay
and psychedelic mushrooms,
your saliva
has the the  taste of
winter sun light.
A full moon night
your secret  forests have diffused.
I get a taste of mint
mixed with
a dash of musk,
exploring the depths.
Your fruits aren't
the  kind of sweet
I hate,
I dig their tarty taste.
Your voice turns
a husky shiver
when you moist,
I can't help it;
I melt when I see it.
Your long nails
have a thirst for my blood,
when we touch each other
intimately with tenderness.
Gritting your teeth,
you lung forward,
as if you want to eat.
Your eyes get wild,
you are a tigress in heat.

I fondly remember,
every libidinous mirror,
that fondled me
with sensuous  abandon.

the reflections I approved
were not strictly
my exactitude;
most erogenous,
that gave me sleepless nights-
of salacious cravings.

I made mirrors proud
by getting represented in them,
the way I loved me, myself
that made them glad.

I give the mirrors
more pleasure,
than the images that I love-
send me in to raptures.

I abhor ****** liaison with mirrors,
though I love the way they pamper.
I've no love left for others,
when a mirror catches me unawares,
in such lasciviousness-
that I love in myself,
it would send shivers through the mirrors,
yes,  I am not unaware,
but that secret is theirs.

We love this wide open grass lands,
the  prankster  brook running through the middle,
clanging its anklet bells,
jack trees, bearing fruits, happy
spreading  sweet smell  in the air,
silver bellied fish, jumping up from water,
just to show how mirthful water life is,
swirling wind that hums a tune
and changes the coconut grove,
to a group of lissome girls dancing as if possessed.

I love your gentle eyes , probing my soul deep,
talking eloquently without words
finding a new language only we can claim our own,
the setting sun's good bye to the hillside,
sudden appearance of a million stars, a symphony of light,
                                                  all over the eastern sky,
your long, garrulous fingers speaking with my eager  fingers,
**your full luscious lips, giving me lingering, therapeutic kiss,
the way we walked side by side, inebriated by the seasoned wine of love,
and how we decided that night we'd cross all the limits. and find the treasure.

Every flower in this garden is laden with star dust
if the eyes that see can travel a bit far in time,
each cell,  remember, is a fractal, a microcosm,
death and immortality, in it encapsulated
Shiva's dance of ecstasy seems to bring
disintegration, beginning of a new cycle of creation,
each moment is in a flux, you and me  and all others
are the ingredients of steaming cosmic soup.
                            
You are my impermanence most kindly defined
complement written in the poetic cadence of feminine,
exact to the appropriate meter, rhyming pattern, perfect
dance of alliteration and at times beauty of truculence,
I am a blank verse, keeping infinity contained
in the only way possible, captured in its grand simplicity
pearls of zen gleaming all over, the intuitive sense
of internal rhythm reigns, touching the primordial boom
music to the soul in frequencies higher, unknowable
reverberating through the cosmic star dust refulgence.

When my soul thirsts for subtle beauty,
a treasured 'poem of plenty' I drink in solitude,
quintessence of all, to my palate, it tastes;
ineffable majesty of the cosmos in my cup!


സൌന്ദര്യപാനം, ആത്മദാഹശമനം

ഉദാത്ത സൌന്ദര്യാനുഭൂതി
കൊതിച്ചെന്മനം ദാഹിക്കവേ,
ഏകനായ്, പ്രിയതരമാമൊരു
"ബഹുസ്വരകവിത"പാനംചെയ് വേന്‍
എന്‍ രസനയിലതു സകല
സൌന്ദര്യച്ചാറായ് മാധുരിപ്പൂ;
വാക്കിതിലടങ്ങാ പ്രപഞ്ച
ഗാംഭീര്യമെന്‍ മധുപാത്രത്തില്‍ !
(Malayalam language version)

Has democracy irretrievably gone to the dogs?
Every beast congregates here; coyotes to  hogs!
Supposedly most selfless of acts
Cover up the worst and the inept.
Crocodile tears apart, they hanker only for populist tag!

Walking along the bank
    of the  prancing village brook,
lined with screwpines
in full bloom spreading
                  musky scent
                 and shamelessly imitating the color of  your skin,
thinking of you all along,
on the way to Krishna temple
you frequent,
I see a surge-
a bevy of giggling village belles,
your ***** friends,
march forward,
holding the hearts of young men to ransom,
teasing me on the sly,
for courting you so ardently.
Who can stop them,
a barrage breach of
Cupid's darlings,
tailing me by chance.

   My eyes searched everywhere,
                    but but missed you so much,
     today they miss,
the crown jewel they deserve,
to be in the middle,
that can be only you always!

On the imaginary crown of them
you would have shone,
added charm and embellished
their victory lap,
in the guise of temple visit,
to worship the Lord, lover nonpareil,
whose love life is our lore.

              On long black tresses
they wore garlands of jasmine,
    can't help pity their haste
and muddled taste,
    you would have told your brood,
how jasmine would have felt,
     unless perfectly adorned on hair, those
incomparable blessing in fragrance.

He dreamed he was Sappho's one true friend,
whom she trusted to share her amorous secrets,
And soon this revelation; his point of no return !
He longed to be a woman, to let her make love to him!
Is it her body, soul or poetry,don't ask him
what made him truly crazy,triggering unnamed pleasures
The other part of him, in love with himself, relentlessly protests,
"My desire for her is that of  a man to a woman"

In every passion filled story of love,there is a river of fire
to cross, a challenge to to take up with a 'do or die 'spirit
Love puts one in dilemmas without resolve, and observes,
declares  one as a winner or a failure,  at the long last!

A life steeped in a fantasy, even in sleep,he is entangled
in hopeless love,which makes him a martyr, victim or hero
When he wakes up, he dreams, he'll bring about lasting peace.
By reading Sappho, till the time he decides it's enough!