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K Balachandran Dec 2012
The enchanting one, sits opposite
her eyes on mine, rest,
amorous intention evident,
drags me to her, *I am game
1.3k · Feb 2012
simmering fires within
K Balachandran Feb 2012
simmering fires within,
bring body, mind,and soul alive;
fire in ***** is desire, digestive fire-
energizes; *soul, a solitary flame.
1.3k · Sep 2013
An alien fruit
K Balachandran Sep 2013
An alien fruit
on a low hanging branch,
she swings invitingly
flaunting her color,
that pulled me near
what an adornment
you would be to my
meager fruit basket,
inebriating scent emanating
overpowers my senses.

Your design, I certainly smell
I hear the whisper,
the disclaimer to entice me
to your side, "I don't like him,
the keeper of my orchard,
he pretends he owns it
but does he know the truth?
it's different, fruits aren't
his passion, just a hoarder
he doesn't enjoy  the ripe fruits,
and I am a **** fruit,
I see yearnings play hide and seek
in your eyes, aren't you the kind of guy,
I've been waiting to come this way,
take me, soon I'll forget him,
throw away your qualms
like fruit peels to the dumps"

I can't now discern,
what I now think,
no, I am no purist
who detests tartness,
I like the taste of vinegar,
this fruit offers so much,
this is a taste I relish,
but I am not game for this,
like to chase and hunt,
fruits from higher branches,
"wouldn't touch a carcass,
even if it promises much"
K Balachandran Aug 2013
You don't need no make up,
no car parking space either;
move around, non stop in this dreary town,
inspiring all with your lovely mug
K Balachandran Jan 2013
At one with eagle's mind,
I wish, to do this:
concentric circles around
sun's windy light.
Forest's kind,
my mind speaks in zillion voices,
yet  craves for more stillness
than all that put together.
Pupa's struggle
I feel deep inside my
labyrinths,
to break that shell
and fly out on my colorful wings.
Then, eschewing colors, smells
past the night that surrounds,
I long to be the light.
Serpent's wriggle, I become
to find that precise moment
to mate, with the ultimate
get  liberated and come to terms
with all that ferocity
that raises it's hood,
life after life.
The quest that continues
within the endless labyrinth,
is the art of  finding sea's tranquil heart;
becoming the
still center of the cosmic storm.
1.3k · Jul 2012
Tasting Fire
K Balachandran Jul 2012
Swimming **** in the river,
a forgotten art since childhood;
he and she redeemed it,
during their love's fervour,
tasting fire.

Fire and water, they played with,
after every dive, her gleaming lips,
met his sun blazed pair,
a subdued thunder
exquisitely shook their bodies
uncontrollably for moments
right from the deepest root.

Giddy with pleasure,
her eyes tightly remained closed,
but lips drank sun
from his lips avidly
without stop.

She felt her body taut,
like guitar strings,
ready to sing.

What he thought was this:
my girl is a red hibiscus flower,
that would bloom, fold by fold,
when tantalizing fingers of desire,
caress the buds,
gently first and then passion's currents
sow goosebumps all over.


She is a vine,
that gets him entangled,
her hands emits sparks.
Flames on her lips,
seek downward path,
and lights the unmitigated
embers of *****.
1.3k · Sep 2012
The Love Heist
K Balachandran Sep 2012
Behind your back, my love, my sweet cheat,
My mind, a wily bandit, in phases
Plan a series of thefts, culminating in a heist.
The shoplifter mind wants to steal a kiss quick,
"Take her heart, hold it to ransom"
My psyche, the robber, demands,
*Your soul in this heist, will be the captive-
Ultimate of  my pining  wounded soul.
*** for tat..in a time love has become a bitter game of chess..
K Balachandran Oct 2013
1.
*Her bleary red eyes
tired from carrying heavy load on her head-
all day long, while harsh sun was beating down,
still looks  beautiful like a doe's, in the soft light of dusk;
with wonder they peer, at the glinting necklace,
extending down the night's blue black *******.

Are they white diamonds or moon drops,
falling from the clear part of the sky
just now freed from the hold of clouds?
Like an eagle, sudden lightening swoops down,
exposing  trees hiding  in darkness,
reminding ogres, that come chasing her in nightmares.
But the flash embellishes the cloud, the shy moon takes cover;
the cloud in that moment, transforms to a sheer silvery dress-
for the moon to wear proudly,  at any temple fair.
2.
The celestial dance  of light and darkness
is stunning; makes her wonder aloud:
"Such beauty! I only need this to forget my pains"
with sweet power, it hits her, bringing to her mind,
the waves of pleasure erupted from her *****,
that she felt once, just once,  with her man.

She couldn't understand,  how it happened, life still hides some secrets.
It was like a randy male goat, barging in to her home compound,
opening the closed gate swiftly, hitting softly with its head,
for a brief moment, she didn't know what happened, and how
the waves of pleasure, swept her off her feet, she floated, like a cloud,
in her sun scorched life, that never  happened again.
3.
Existing  as a cacophony as long as it is awake, the village,
is still, went to sleep, except moon and a  few like her,
the chattering of women in the market had died down
dogs do not bark, the drunks aren't cursing dogs
or clashing with others who come their way.
Late at this hour, a lone  night owl stirs,
his urgent hoots, resound making him more egregious.
She would go to sleep, if the owl stops,
then, to his snores she would turn a deaf ear as usual,
and let him slither like a snake,
in his part of the  bed till morning breaks,
When--
it's again time for her to trek to the well too far,
to fetch water, before the women of next village,
come flocking with pots and pails.
K Balachandran Feb 2012
"beware of carbon foot prints"
scientists loudly threaten;
Gandhi in contrast only gently suggested,
*"simple living assures lasting happiness"
1.3k · Jul 2014
A prayer directed inward
K Balachandran Jul 2014
Caught an unwanted glimpse of a grumpy one
darkening the world with a vengeance,
make me relevant, each day, without fail,
the God within, in awareness present, I pray thee.
K Balachandran Aug 2012
Drum beats,  from across time, I hear
speaking an ancient language to the depths,                                      
forgotten for long, but my heart  quickly responds,

                                          legs swiftly move longing  for a dance.
K Balachandran Feb 2014
The gardener gifted me a rose,
when I was gently passing his way
a bright smile lighted his face
"The best that bloomed
in this garden to day, is yours" were his words.

His sweet manner is a ploy, I presumed,
I plucked one I liked, on the sly,
once I was away from his eyes,
"The best is this, now in my hands,
No way you can deceive me, I've craft"

My love chose the first among the two,
no doubt, that's the best, in her heart she knew,
why did I doubt the gardener in the first place?
not just his eyes, his heart too was perfect.
1.3k · Apr 2017
from my balcony
K Balachandran Apr 2017
this flowered grove looks,
a grand bouquet from above
storks, quiet , dozing
1.3k · Jan 2017
Being in Nothingness
K Balachandran Jan 2017
The hesitant shadow
of a melancholy poet,
while walking on it's
wobbly undefined legs,
result of light losing to darkness,
speaks to the alert poetic self,
listening with perked up ears,
in a strange dialect of darkness
about 'being in nothingness'
1.3k · Sep 2015
Peak
K Balachandran Sep 2015
At the peak his roar is in the words of mountain winds,
a rare sweetness it brings out,a flow natural from his self,
she acquires then the lilt of a song bird,flying in an open cloudless sky,
a song bird that has sweetly pecked her aggressive mate to submit,
something she couldn't believe,that astonishment becomes her croon.

They soar, the illusion of wings make them both lose bearing,wobble,
going up, up to dizzy heights,above the caressing silver white clouds,
then slowly tumbling down on earth,they feel like feathers entwined.

The wind whistles a tune,eyes widely closed they jive, time stands still,
that sweet exhaustion,prods for one more dance above the clouds.
1.3k · Jan 2014
The beast and the butterfly
K Balachandran Jan 2014
His heart misses beats
the moment
that fragile butterfly
sits on it and her legs
tickle the tender
membranes covering
arteries and veins
causing the blood bubble
like never before.

The heart so passionate,
forgets in its eagerness,
that it belongs to a beast,
answers back in an invented
language, somehow butterflies
seems to understand so well.
Now the wild beast's heartbeat
gets synchronized with
the beat of butterfly's wings
what white magic is this?

He becomes amazingly light
the butterfly's consort now sees light
in crazy iridescent colors
jubilant like a victor, he flies up
every time, she wants to
touch a cloud,
catch a falling star
or race with a bird, for fun
every one loudly wonders how
the beast that only roared and growled
sprung at the world,
at the slightest of provocations
was bridled and contained
by the chit of a beauty riot.

Oh! I can tell
the beast mostly was an apparition
its dead, or if you can believe
beaten to death by two colorful wings
another wonder of love, it is
won't be resurrected again,
if not, the butterfly would disappear
in the thick woods in  efflorescence.
1.3k · Nov 2018
Gothic drama
K Balachandran Nov 2018
A gothic drama
Night enacts; its taut dark plot,
Lone moon polishes!
K Balachandran Apr 2016
And then I  woke up in an ethereal hour,
As the sublime scent of a wild flower,
After roaming through many many lives,
As insects, birds and many kinds of animals,

When I by chance stumbled in to her eye
It was love, with out knowing who or why
In a  moment I mingled with her deep sigh
Such was the  alchemy, we soared to a level high

Later after many lifetimes of stars and many cycles,
Held within the depth of a dream, I realize this:
All I now need is a piece of tranquil blue sky,
to dissolve all clouds of avatars, be immortality, never to die.
Wherever one goes in whatever forms, (even if transmigration of soul
happens or it's just an imagination) is there any salvation, without at least a whiff of love in the air ?Love-consciousness-immortality would have made  a nice passage through the quagmires of worldly affairs.
K Balachandran Sep 2014
He created a night for him
with the dark metaphors
his poetry tossed on to the air;
from its ember buried under ashes
oozed little by little,
two drops of scared light.

Alone, in the cocoon of the memory
of her words, he distilled and drained
the magic potion of poetic expression.

In it was ingested, the intensity
of sudden lightening
that burns down everything
in to ashes

like the tides that occur high and low
what if ,at will, single source secretes
both poison and nectar?

with your eyes mutely speaking of desire
you are deft in signalling both---
the ascent of love, that creates in me
the instant capillary rise of passion
and
love's descend, as if the monsoon has dissipated
and just a sprinkling announcing rejection!

who are you, reveal your true face
poetic trance at the moment of my inspiration
or dark poetry, gushing out on it's own
from a secret spring, deeply hidden?
K Balachandran Aug 2015
She is a man,in the blood stream,
gushing within her veins.
He acts her woman, willingly,
and he likes it every bit.
Together they create by chance,
a tumultuous ****** history,
never before seen, perhaps.
This subversion remains a secret,
with a meaning, on which
they never ever bothered.
A mighty cyclone, she transforms
that uproots structures monumental
if she really wants to trample everything.
He is a prankster wind,that love
billowing saplings; ripe rice as well.
Hovering on air, over land and water,
tumbling together, exploring depths,
they create mysterious wind patterns,
that add to the folk lore and myth.
Shiva (the male principle) and Shakthi(the female power)in union
is depicted in the form of "Ärdhanareeswara"(Half woman-half man)
K Balachandran Oct 2016
She is a true blue living legend
displaying  many colors of love
there is no doubt about it,if only
you know where to look at.
But wait,in the way she expresses it
everything  would get reversed!
if one concludes she is demure,
think twice before deciding.
She did invent a new tongue
entirely of monosyllables!
write it in high  hieroglyphics
none could ever aspire to decipher.
Don't forget to take this fact in to account
in bed, she is a whirlwind
unlike  most Indian brides,
who wear shyness as an armour
tradition prescribes for brides.
1.3k · Sep 2013
the taste of honey
K Balachandran Sep 2013
a dewdrop
on the petal
of your red lower lip,
     tempting
like a drop of honey,
waiting
to be tasted
by a bee;
               imagine me,
I took it so gently,
with my lips
and avidly made mine
and heard beauty speak
to me in a secret tongue,
I am your sun, you said,
the sun that thrills you with
a warm kiss, when
it's most needed.
1.3k · Oct 2011
COLLATERAL DAMAGE
K Balachandran Oct 2011
Dark armies of monsoon
siege the desolate inn.
Clinging  to each other
to keep themselves warm
desperate inn keeper and  his wife resist,
ignoring the persistent bangs
on the doors
At the dawn, awaits a shock:
an old man, dead and frozen
on the door step;
collateral damage, of the war
unlashed by monsoon.
K Balachandran Jan 2012
on the shrubs of night,
glowworms in millions,
flash their luminance.
at dawn where do they vanish?
1.3k · May 2016
Her invisible wings
K Balachandran May 2016
She had enormous wings, he could imagine,
how light it would to soar up and view
the world as one,  from above the clouds
that would make her feel blessed an envied
celestial being still walking firm footed on earth.
"Have you ever dreamed flying" he asked her
in a matter of fact way, concealing the wonder
the wings caused, but her words made him
think how strange the world is, she wasn't
aware of the gift of wings, pure white, delicate,
sturdy all the same, but the wings were not
a reality she appreciated, hasn't it ever come
to her notice? He looked in to the silence
of her eyes, was she keeping it as a secret?

Her wings were thin, shining silver petals
a rare flower, with a scent wafting everywhere
but by some quirk of fate, it wasn't there for her.
1.3k · Dec 2011
celebrating transience
K Balachandran Dec 2011
bubbles celebrate
transience.
phut!
they  vanish after
a short life.
K Balachandran Dec 2011
She said,
he wasn't,
a male
chauvinist pig;
porcupine instead.
K Balachandran Nov 2014
"Let me do it for the many worlds I simultaneously exist
as birds and bees, beasts of pray, majestic tree or tiny organism
human beings of diverse persuasions , male , female, inhabiting
in parallel time lines, sinner and saint seeking salvation together"

He delves deep in the heart of blue, fathomless, abyss, a country new
where meanings differ, voices are petering to the valley of silence.

The rivers are silver bands, mountain peaks soft pillows,
the clouds sheets fresh and crisp, spread gently over
the undulating water bed of seas, so inviting, soporific,
fire lovingly ripens the fruits of temptation that hangs from branches,
drink the bubbly white wine of rain pouring in to your cup,
breezes are nice silk, towels to dry one softly
after sweating too much, when ends the frenzied search
through the mazes, for each other, in the play ground of
wolves  and panthers, friendly beyond belief. 

Day and night, one comes to know are made from the same cloth,
wearing a day easy is difficult as evening comes closer,
it gets soiled, however careful one is, needs to stuff it in a container
the dark sea, tame like a bucketful of water, it takes so long to clean.

Morning,  time to wear the new dress,  embark on a new day again
we are men and women here, creatures of circumstances, in disguises
don't ever pretend there is a world real, and you exist here just for fun
like a fish coming up for air, now he surfaces with a sly happy smile.
K Balachandran Feb 2016
It's her, the woman of steely resolve,
who fills every lighted part
of my consciousness,so thankful, I am to her
The wife who never lets down
her man who faltered and fell,
love being the ***** in her armor
she is careful not to hurt there,
our eyes exchange texts, only
we could read and an instance

She was the one who found me out
lost from the neighborhood of her heart,
brought me back from the outback
from the jaws of the beasts of prey,
where i was stuck in a thorny thicket,
lost almost for ever bleeding,pale,
if only she didn't decide to conduct
a one woman adventure, a rescue mission
against all odds,with much *****,
and presence of mind, one rarely see
even in alpha males,who habitually
boast aloud,of having ***** to stand up
against any adversity and fight.
For me it was she who did it and all alone!

Young and callow,
a bird of infirm wings still,
alone i flew long distances
circled around,hallucinatory visions,
lost my way, eventually went down,
my love may have failed before,
but she happened ,in the moment of epiphany,
otherwise would I ask her , without a second thought
to be with me all through the journey of my life?
It would not have been,but her heart listened
to my voice wistfully spoke to it, as if becoming weak,
caught in a storm lashed over the thicket and
she came searching at the right time, rescuing me .

Gun fights and volcano eruptions we survive,
even thunder storms, mad dog attacks and cheats,
broken hearts and misfortunes of every kind too.
Never do I forget this dear face of courage,
the woman staying firmly behind me, a sturdy rock,
sticking to her faith on me and a prayer on her lips,
with the staunch belief that I'll come out a winner.
Lovingly dedicated to sweet Lady M, a fearless fighter
wife of a dear friend, in appreciation of her fighting his battle
with dark demons these days sticking with him, while he still continues his walk in the dark, towards the beckoning light..
K Balachandran Feb 2013
A  gentle brook, I seek the ocean,
sitting cross legged on the ground, I imagine.
Index fingers of both hands press thumbs,
other three fingers remain straight,
both arms straight, rest on the knees,
"Chin Mudra" leads to the  sublime plane,
**'atman' the soul, merges with  the consciousness supreme.
*"Mudra" is a gesture or posture to control the life force(prana), practised by Indians from time immemorial.Each of the 25 Mudras stimulates various nodal points.Mudras have intense effect on nerves and energy flow.
**"Chinmudra"(Chit-consciousness-mudra) symbolizes the confluence of individual(index finger) and universal(thumb) consciousness.Index finger is associated to air element and thumb  with fire element.
It is the gesture of receiving.When the palms face upwards in Chin Mudra,  the chest and heart areas are opened up.Keep the eyes closed and regulate breathing.Dissipating excess energy Chin Mudra controls anger.
K Balachandran Jan 2012
sitting here in the cusp
of a greedy world
where each seeks something
only for own good,

i would rather have
a bouquet of goodies for
me and my folks
particularly as the new year begins,

i look back at the cosmic awareness
of knowledge seeking
ancient brahmins,
and get amazed at
the altruist spirit and
sense of renunciation,  they
made a common daily practice,
that rang loud in chants
during elaborate rituals
of fire sacrifice
in ancient times.

one by one, putting an enormous collection of
offerings ; butter,variety
of sacred wood, flowers,herbs and grains
in to flames, with the accompaniment of
chants of benediction and good thoughts,
in unison, each one asserted in chaste Sanskrit:
"This is not for me"
"idem na mama"
with each offering.

the Gods could  have any reason,
not to accept those offerings,
given away with purest of intensions,
that changed the ionic configuration
of the atmosphere, more beneficial to humans
by changing air, land and water, pure
and full of life force.
K Balachandran Jun 2014
When we met again,
the flower was wilting and sad
"I don't want to die, so early"she said
"Heal me, I've seen you doing it before"
"I love you" I whispered gently to her
and waited, saw her face once again
turning radiant, in an instance
in love she believes, listens to its prompts
healing power of love, is evident yet again.
1.3k · Sep 2020
Memory of a heist
K Balachandran Sep 2020
She robbed me, untill
There was nothing left.
I too did the same while
She was busy at it.
Who did first, or what exactly,
All that are immaterial.
I could vividly member
What her eyes did magically,
Bringing us to
The point of convergence.
Then a haze did spread
Our hot pursuit started,
On  planes higher and higher.
Then there was the
Request from her inner depth
Without any word uttered.
"Oh! take it all" a blanket permit,
No doubt,
I heard my heart echoing it
With a fervour to outmatch,
When it got back to her
We were fighting the fire
Our hearts set on with desire,
Isn't it she who  first
Sobbed with pleasure?
No! we both vied with each other
To make it a sonorous chorus.
In this heist who did what
Could never be charted
In any order,
Time and space got jumbled
During the course of this heist!
Suffice to say, it happens
Mostly once in a lifetime,
If lucky you really are, that is.
What more can one ask for
To recount to your kids
On the ritual of passing the baton?
1.3k · Apr 2014
One Music
K Balachandran Apr 2014
Come in, stoop a bit
the door is too low,
as the tradition demands;
close your umbrella
put it in a corner
this is a space
you'd find in no map.
Did you keep your companion
for all occasion, logic, outside?
when you go a long distance
and your psyche is the road
that presence is a speed breaker,
we don't even need any clock,
there is no time in this realm
past and future are in the present.
Forget the world we would,  at once
dark shadows dance holding hands
of light, all in a trance, create music
and then within, one realizes this
we are all notes of an orchestra
playing all along
K Balachandran Oct 2014
She rides a thoroughbred perfectly like a man does,
that in no way makes her look less than a lass,
how does the horse feel, being in this rough and tumble dance
see the reason for his pride, it's deeper than what one thinks,
she makes him feel loved, he obeys every word of command,
not a mistress and slave, two beings benign, in sync
right then, my heart dictates,"Make this lovely Cavalry woman
your own", as the crowning moment dawns,
I wave to Esther, from among the motley crowd.
Still in gallop her eyes caught my eyes from that far,
what makes her look at me straight, later I would ask,
"Being the first, near the finishing line, the crowd was just a haze,
to my watery eyes, colors seemed blurred, but you stood out
the crowed simply cheered, but you! you were in such an awe."
Is there a male perspective and female perspective for everything?
Then what would be that when two fall in love in such spectacular occasions?One-upmanship is in play here too?Do they understand?
Or is it nature that keeps the puppets on a string?
K Balachandran Jan 2017
A sprightly snail crawls,
etching a message as it moves;
cryptic conundrum.
Certain things are unknowable
K Balachandran Dec 2013
They exiled him from their loveless land
for willingly breaking its rule again and again,
he was asked to **** love, once and for all
love that moves as silent waves of the sea,
never ceases to move, within the depth of his heart.
He was chained and treated like an outcast,
how could a loveless world understand,
the meaning of his passion, that binds him with hers.
He was out of his mind they surmised
never could they imagine they were the ones insane.
Every morning a grubby voice will ask him:
"Do you still hear the music of love the waves play?"
he was calm and said"I am yet another one, like Prometheus,
this is my fire, I stole it for me, her and all  other lovers,
your heartless world can never ****** it from me,
not till the moment my soul departs my body"
1.3k · May 2013
Delusion
K Balachandran May 2013
Hear a hiss?
***** up
both ears
don't miss
the difference.
(lurking serpent
or the breeze?)
Remmember "Rajju Sarpa bhranti"(The illusion of rope and serpent)
In dim light things cannot be seen clearly(ignorance or Maya) a piece of rope(Rajju)can be mistaken to be a snake(Sarpa) and one can get all emotions, fear anxiety etc, associated with snake.The pangs of sorrow or excitement of happiness associated with worldly things are because of ignorance.Delusions disappear when one embraces wisdom.
1.3k · Dec 2011
puzzle
K Balachandran Dec 2011
you know me, i know you
how come we don't know
each other.
1.3k · Jan 2016
The Poetry of Sustenance
K Balachandran Jan 2016
I enjoy, the subtle shades, connotation of each word,
probe, how dexterously they are put together in an order
like jewels in an ornament for generations to wear.
The way the construct speaks to the brooding solitude
that moves in and out of my soul,as the reading proceeds.

I smell a fragrance, like the scent of fresh ripe fruit,
eager to taste it, sink my teeth deep, draw juice,
now find a memory awaiting to resonate with the
cadence of my heart.
                                                 I am such an animal
that can smell poetry's worth from a distance,
a goldsmith who could  predict it's weight in gold
my avarice for a poetic diet, never dies, only swells.

Every poem of my kind, to me does something
my lover does, decidedly every imagery, carry forward
a memory, like wind a cloud, reaches a space beyond
touches eternity with it's magic wand,  a flash results
Even if the poet leaves me mid way, I'd still see the light.

I've an enticing excuse to imagine what I want to see
a poem doesn't produce anything,but what it does to mind,
is pure magic,I am in that flow,far from the illusory reality.
K Balachandran Dec 2011
wait, with bated breath
for that  juicy, exclusive story
proved futile, the editor feels
cheated, and  facing a newesless  tomorrow.
1.3k · Nov 2011
erogenous exchanges
K Balachandran Nov 2011
his eyes
she focused,
navel
he gazed,
*** for tat.
K Balachandran Jan 2012
Beyond this little bit of space light has claimed,
i hear darkness howl it's commands,
but i ignore, pretend at least
i won't listen to it's songs, with the power of
evil, and it's nine charms
that some times takes the boys and girls
to it's musty corridors.No we don't,
though this failing light can't assure.

I walk with a spring in every step,
in a make believe fashion, absolutely without
any reason,in tatted clothes it's looks awkward,
but that happens to be the birth right of our tribe
in deep dark alleys and dense shanty towns.
some look at me and think it's defiance.Is it?
some answers are not with us.
those who have access never cared to share
Right to information, doesn't work that way.
if you ask, they look daggers,
"What does this street boy want?
why does he read books or  sing songs?
is poetry any good to him?"
Questions.questions...like arrows first
then their eyes get angry, like an addict
with withdrawal symptoms
angry wild  dogs haunts us all over the world
some questions, even if you ask life long
would never get answers.
what to them if you get mad.
"Come sit down here a bit ,you'll be OK"
a grandma or mother, native of a shanty town
whimper, running fingers through hair on my fuming head.

For each springing step,  i have to fight with myself.
before my eyes, the face of the man on creches
who struggle to take even a step forward, dances
and the immobile ones , victims with hands and legs in plaster,
or amputated
boys and girls in dingy children's wards
seeking treatment for a disease called poverty, lying on cold floors
as the beds overflow with patients, medicines non-existent.

I remember the sunken eyes that
look darkly in to bleak future and mumble inanities,
in dreams those eyes get armed and run after me with a cry
i feel my throat go dry,
i want but can't shake off the anguish that has caught
my mind like a mad dog, on a leg.
look at the face of those children, dropped off from school,
and took to bad roads to make a living
for a day or two they can foresee.
who has snatched their books?
the diseased and malnourished,
the poor and the suffering has a case,
but,you and i have little doubt,
no court would take their case,
it didn't happen all these years,in spite of all efforts.
yes, they can seek justice, but who will pay the price,
and will they stand the hassles?There is no quick justice.
poor are equal to ordinary mortals, no special privileges!

Those with,
bad money,
bad memory,
bad eyes
that can't see
tattered lives,
and good enough
not to see
disturbing sights,
swish past
gleefully
through
our high ways,
in their plush
limousines,
that i watch
with a lump
in my throat.
O
K Balachandran Oct 2012
Everyday as I cross this road, here
you pass me flashing a sunny smile,
its magic, touches my being
changing  this colorless life awhile.
At the broad display wall, a casual glance, I'd cast
and think"Such a smile would look nice over there"

Today, a miracle touched my heart with its feather,
your face in its liveliest best, on posters,
are displayed  on the same wall I fantasied.
*The caption proclaimed:"She is the next big star"
This  jaywalker never would see you hereafter.
1.3k · Nov 2012
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)
K Balachandran Sep 2012
When I looked at the mirror,
this morning, in a hurry,
*my father who left five years ago, forever
lovingly looked at my eyes.
1.3k · Jan 2019
Winter’s discontent
K Balachandran Jan 2019
Winter night whispers.
Complaining jealous mistress,
Soon to be deported!
1.3k · Dec 2013
The thief, a paradox
K Balachandran Dec 2013
About this thief from far far away,
she never wanted, even to hear at first
but at last awaited with a wish and a prayer,
here comes the foot steps, and him as a  beam of light,
this pure delight is unexpected,
the heart of darkness, she once feared
in this winter  embraces as blissful warmth.
his lips are passionate, kiss ethereal
he takes away all she has, every thing she calls hers,
without a word she gives,
how strange, she feels full, overwhelmed,
this is not the finis, something beautiful now begins.
K Balachandran Jan 2012
women's caravan seeks love land,
men's cavalry gallops to the *** paradise.
would they miss the middle ground?
1.3k · Oct 2014
The Big Fish
K Balachandran Oct 2014
The stars fallen
on the still water plane
of the lake
dreaming the sky every minute,
sizzle,
like the effect of cooling,
smile to themselves
thinking about the amazing
translocation,
from the foaming rapids of milky way
to placid dark waters deep down,
from an illusion of light years
to another, of transient reflection.
lie still for a while
taking stock of things:
isn't the real on the same level
of what we count imaginary?
when--
all the fish from secret depths
shoal after shoal after shoal
curious about the newly arrived
lightening bugs, that pulsate,
try to get closer,
propelling themselves
through water
like torpedoes sensing targets
wanting to gobble up
the whole galaxy,along with supernovae and black holes
thinking. "for us these planktons are an easy game
now right here, in our sanctuary,when we are starving"
stars, like frenzied school kids
after the last long bell
swim helter-skelter, ride
the unruly waves,
try to make it to the shore
but find dissolving altogether
was what was written on the book.
Anyway it's a"LILA"
a cosmic game illusory
all a grand opera in which
*Shakti  and Shiva play
transformation game.
But the big fish
ruling cosmic  space
with appetite voracious,
moves across galaxies,
crossing light years in a flash,
obliterating whatever is the matter
Shiva-the male principle/matter.  Shakti-the female principle/energy
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