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K Balachandran Jul 2015
In a place that never existed anywhere,
leading a life that never ever happened
sparks of fire of wanton imagination,we are,
that will appear reflected in eternity's mirror
all these dreams are created by our illusory mind.
"Brahma Satyam,Jagan midhya"(The absolute is the truth, cosmos is an illusion")says Adi Shankara, the "Non duelist" philosopher who established there is no two, all is one.
K Balachandran Oct 2012
On the vine of mortality,
endlessly spreading-
every moment, on the tree of time,
we are blooms,
with eye catching hues,**
gradually wither and fall,
as foot falls of death come near,
in the harsh summer of life.

But there isn't any fear,
divine fragrance of immortality,
in every bloom will remain, for ever,
the wind of cosmic bliss wound gather,
the fragrance of all blooms withered,
and scent the immortality's garden,
where new blooms, once effulgent beings,
now stars of paradise,
beam their golden  light for ever.

They would vie with each other,
to adorn that eternal scent exquisite,
to make it their own, and to be gratified.
K Balachandran Jul 2015
A burning desire,more than anything he has known,
often he thinks a name should be given
propels him to explore inner world more and more
he dives down hopefully, yet another time
to the still center of the churning maelstrom ,
finding a diamond,from the dark depths of secrets
is still possible after all these trials and frustrations ,
though every time before, what he retrieved,
in broad day light turned out only to be a smooth pebble,
--each poem tells him to begin all over again, with  renewed vigor
1.1k · Nov 2018
A wink and after..
K Balachandran Nov 2018
Ah! that naughty wink,
Could accomplish many things!
Or make one just sink!
1.1k · Aug 2012
In Wallace Stevens I believe
K Balachandran Aug 2012
Wallace Stevens tells me,
"a poem need not have a meaning"
I look at my poem, nod knowingly,
she accepts, and proclaims," no meaning, no ambiguity"
K Balachandran Jan 2012
encoding in my genes,
whispers in D.N.A strands,
my ancestors of millions of years,
**whose avatar am i, wonder!
K Balachandran Jan 2014
With my hands around you, I slept,
and drempt we acquired wings,
flew up hovered above the clouds,
followed the white storkes that seek
far away lands that are still warm.
Sky was the world we always eyed
as we wanted to live closer to it
with the wonder remaining undiminished,
we noticed the white clouds turn pink
flew above the extended meadows of clouds,
saw they change colors as time
travels with sun, then moon appears,
making us feel we need to drink
the milk she graciously sheds all over the world.

Now, we went closer to the valley of night
and heard rounds of gun fire unawares,
unmistakable smell of blood followed,
war cries heard aloud, followed by the cry of wounded people.
you were frightened and lamented,
like a dove in distress,"Why did we fly?
could have contented with what we have,
look at the humans, they ****
and feel happy that they could ****
the other person, fantastic!
but why don't they see,
that they shoot themselves, not others.
I hate this though we inhabit a world beautiful.
but who gives his whole being to beauty?
and just love one another, see that we are not separate!"

I woke up with my hands around you,
and found there was distress in your face,
wasn't it yet another bad dream, I wonder,
It's past midnight, but the gunshot, I heard-
still resounds outside,
      I can't sleep any more...
K Balachandran Jun 2013
That camphor light, in your tranquil eyes,
revealed everything I searched all my life,
all those fantasies that gave sleepless nights
how they all reduced to naught and ashes!
when,  first  we stood, lost in each other's eyes
moments flew excited like butterflies in thousands,

          From the light, I realized, life began its journey first,
             when the voyage reaches its last port,
                 the shoes hung, never to be worn again,
                 All sounds go down to a whisper and sink
                 in to the grand orchestra of silence.

                 I would see those flowers, that made my garden fragrant
                 once again, like a pantomime dance, of stars.
                My wings, never opened once, will come alive and signal
                it's time to soar up, up transcending the speed of light,
              *
Would you make your eyes sing that song of light, you perfected,
              one last time, and hold your tears?
K Balachandran Nov 2015
IN the divine frenzy of that moment,
when they met each other first, as predicted,
she pulled him down over her,for eons together,
on the marble step they just passed each other.
Both froze, trapped in a time wrap,
within a moment as a sculpture in alabaster.

A somnambulist sculpturer,with a wild imagination,
claimed it as his master piece, oblivious of the facts!

The cosmos is only a thought,like a flowing river reaching
to the ocean of eternity, if you would remember.
Every imagination, at a point becomes real, memory,
happenings, gains and loss all look the same as one goes on.
Every one passing the steps up and down, invariably is amazed,
wonder still, who this marble couple are, what story they'd tell.
The circle, is bound to get completed, a million years after,perhaps,
                                                  ­      2
Two butterflies, flying around the sculpture, to see if there is a drop
of nectar anywhere,find it on the lips joined,in a kiss eternal,
as they taste it together, they did remember a day in the life of universe,

A wise silver owl, watching this divine pantomime, flies up,
enlightenment strikes hard;on that zen moment, all fall in place!
K Balachandran Jan 2012
bad thing i love about love-
the possessiveness
                             of
                               lovers.
1.1k · Jun 2014
This hour I grieve for her
K Balachandran Jun 2014
This hour of the night feeds me pain; I grieve for her, in vein
a river, when she did flow nearer, I floated on,  one could hope
only for an ablution, she washed away sedimented pain,
then, in a hurry broke away making waters muddied,
making things unclear, she becomes a rush towards other destinations.
A flower of arresting beauty, a scent never forgotten,
one would  be horrified by the thought of plucking her to keep for oneself.
but as one stands watching, she withers, loses color, falls after a while
as a fruit, she entices, eaten by passing avaricious birds
she is reduced to seeds strewn near and far and peeled off skin.
1.1k · Dec 2012
Her magic, my heart
K Balachandran Dec 2012
My charcoal drawings of her,
miraculously turned white!
my tear drops all
became stunning pearls!
K Balachandran Jan 2015
And when the bell tolls, as expected, I imagine
an unconvincing ending and quick new beginning
fighting my instinct that tells again and again
it's just a nonsense we force ourselves to embrace
obeying an illogical prompt never once questioned
There is no full stop in time; even if you are being playful.
1.1k · Aug 2012
The White Horse.
K Balachandran Aug 2012
Ominous  voices spoke within the haze of smoke,
in the rambunctious spirit of adolescence
one would hardly listen to those rants.

I remember two things, I was a white horse
raring to go to the very end, of the track, where a mountain rose,
its peak hidden in the cloudy whiteness, beyond that lies the cave of  secrets;
the second certain thing, in that dream was my age, just 18, highly precarious,
none can  now say this white horse, would turn dark at the end of the race.
(not, even if one becomes 18, all over again,would be sure)

The girl, wearing a flame red streaming cape, riding on my back
said: "What a night we had"! Yes she did amaze me all through the night,
and look now, I am happily  under her spell, she has the magic word
to make me excel, if by chance failed, I'll be her ****

They'll turn me in to a mare by their spell, and sell in the village fair,
They'll regale themselves with this sweet imagination: if he wins he is our horse for ever,
or else, the money he fetches, would take us forward for a while,
The horse in his delirious fit thinks:" My love, we'll have many more nights
like we had, just you wait".
                                                                              The crowd gets impatient,
they just want the race, see the ******* the horse, pass glamorously before their eyes
see someone's win, or  some one soon should bite the  dust.
**Be ready in your blood thirsty self, to witness oh! heartless crowd,
here, I am treading the blade of the sharp sword, dripping blood from my heart.
1.1k · Dec 2011
hate me if you can
K Balachandran Dec 2011
Hate me for
what i am;
endearing
beyond my liking.
1.1k · Nov 2012
Girl Chasing Breeze
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Wanton breeze,
                          playing
                       ­            Romeo,
                             chases-
                                     you,
                                lifts
                      ­                 your
                                            skirt
          ­                                                up
                                    making
              ­                   me jealous.
1.1k · Nov 2015
Fall and resurrection
K Balachandran Nov 2015
Stunning autumn clouds!

Compassion colors heaped leaves.

Hark! Buddha's footsteps!
Inwards journey prompted by nature
K Balachandran Mar 2015
Night sky over Paris, doesn't speak starry love tonight
intimate soul, maker of my spirit's whole,
Paris would love to hold close to it's broad heart,
didn't we elope through the Metro tunnel
of experiences,then I made you wear my coat
to protect you from winter cold, hid you
in the cozy interior of my memory well lit,
where you wait on a hope, unsuspecting
losing all sense of time.Still at Arc de Triomphe ,
I  wait for the train that never comes, I suspect
you are a prisoner, in the urban jungle of La Defense
beyond the lonely whiteness of Grande Arche
time the marauder comes in without knocking,
he must have took you away, none will know when
the tunnel of our experiences, once we knew are bare
I'll be going alone soon in a dark train to nowhere
where are you, where are you, my voice chokes and fail
പ്രണയ പരാജിതരുടെ ഗോപുരത്തിലെ തടവുകാരിക്കുവേണ്ടി
ഒരു രോദനം
1.1k · Jan 2012
poetic preference
K Balachandran Jan 2012
she is a visual kinetic poem,
but, i am mad after evocative metaphors.
K Balachandran Dec 2012
Sun's sudden madness scorched the  lovely buds,
who killed my children, cry the flowering plants,
why the climate changes, love gets obliterated,
darkness prowls at noon, who has to be blamed?
*who kills the goodness, gives evil such fillip?
don't ask, "For whom the bell tolls?"
look within, do something .
1.1k · Nov 2013
Their other life
K Balachandran Nov 2013
Underwater they quickly become fish,
she likes it that way, he concedes her every wish,
"An eel, aren't you?" raunchily she pretends astonishment,
big fish with an avid mouth she is, he knows so well.
K Balachandran Jun 2013
The cat with radium eyes, drilling into my sub-terrain secrets,
Hedgehopped silently in to my camouflaged enclosure, for a nightcap, it said.
A companion of mysteries, tip-toes in to the wilderness of night
With a gentle "meow' to hunt
                                                how fast you pulled me closer, with your claws drawn out,
Not any coy maiden, your lust, long nailed and wild,
Known you differently before, now it comes out on the open, I love you in your true colors, yes, but..

Your kisses are bloodsucking vampire feasts,
You need to feel the beast all over you, to quench the lust, from the beginning I knew(my secret)
With caterwaul crescendo we celebrated lust, I contributed in  plenty at your request,
When swelled desire, did burst and waves dissipated, we went to a dopomine induced sleep,
Completely transformed, you just look like a lackluster colleague,
Unexpectedly came to visit, for a cuppa and chat  (why do I feel bit let down, difficult to understand)
1.1k · Nov 2012
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.
1.1k · Dec 2011
poetry became my anchor
K Balachandran Dec 2011
Bored
hence, rude
once,
poetry
moored
me,
as my anchor.
K Balachandran Jun 2015
The plan was perfectly drawn
      nobody doubted it was flawed,
but every day and night added
     particular effects on the sketch,
each changing season had a whim
     that made a clear impact on it.

Even the most perfectly laid plans
      need to be approved by spirits
the cosmos will incessantly unleash,
      that in no way anyone can control.

The plans would never go wrong, I thought,
    her invocations to the mysterious
forces of universe, alone make it happen,
    in all humility now I realize!

Deeply I cherish, the feminine power,
       that walks with me matching step to step,
  in the true tradition  of brahminical wisdom, I chant:
      "Not for me, but all this sacrificial offering,
for the plants, animals and humans, the whole of universe.
       Each and every speck in this limitless cosmos
is webbed together, for ever and aye,
    Oh!   the consciousness that pervades in all
the connecting stream flowing to the ocean,
      be the lighted lamp, burning within,
dispel once and for all the darkness of ignorance."
Brahmin-The group of learned men who always sought wisdom and preserved it for society, considering it  their prime  duty.
Maha mantra--Great Mantra
1.1k · Sep 2013
Out of the Cocoon
K Balachandran Sep 2013
Glowworms swarm
on the treetops of the sky
to make ornaments
for the night,
                      they keep me awake
with their brilliance, extraordinary
that makes it possible for me
to hallucinate
that it's heaven.
Cosmic fireworks explode,
crossing the limits of time,
rhythm of a starry song spreads
like a divine fragrance,
transcending light years.
I've been in a cocoon,
long days of grief and pain;
this effulgent night transmits
some good news, for the meditative-
chrysalis I used to be for long.
I fly up on my invisible wings
to experience a life eternal,
to be one with alpha and omega alike.
K Balachandran Feb 2014
On a blessed morn, a sunbeam kissed me on my forehead,
and at that immortal second, exchanged with me
the secret of the knitted design of the whole universe,
an orchestra of million pieces, that plays for ever
but how can I express it to another unless that  heart is resonant?

I am one among that tribe spread out, to far corners,
that would rather receive riches in our souls,
your voice like songbird's fly high, the music wakes up the valley,
I desire to touch your voice with my fingers, like I hold you
around your waist, we swirl, wind carries the cloud, tenderly
I yearn to lick the honey oozing from your voice
and wing to a Nirvana high, as the narcotic  dissolves
in my saliva slowly, then spread in my blood, beyond body limits.

You are a swirl of fragrance, a high note, touching the zenith of eternity,
I wanted to be the base note to keep you anchored, in here and now
my ethereal flame will embrace your light, together we'll
take flight, light our path and be limitless.
K Balachandran Jan 2015
"Tropical sun, you ****** cheat
never expected, you'd behave
like this" in his chair sitting huddled,
driving away cold with every means
at his command,
he murmured to himself,
not bothered about the state of affairs
of anything, big or small,
aren't we all mortals, after all?
What's the point in being anxious
about the state of economy or environment
if you have no interest in this arrangement
beyond certain point,
all one has to worry is about is today
the grey, cold, overcast, hopeless day
that ruins the pleasure one yearns for
weep over the love denied,
that's what this day is fit for.

There is a knock on the door
is it the cold wind throwing twigs
or plain wishful thinking, of a day
when love was in abundance, knocking at door
but it's persistent,who cloud it be
in a cold frozen, godforsaken mean morning
celebrating deserted lovers and loneliness..
He opens the door, a hole in to cold
like a frozen wonder gone astray
in a comely female form past presents
it's her, his uncertain love, once again at her best
and look at her, the special love potion
for the most gloomy day of dejection and self hate.

She hugs him with a mother's warm hold
plants a passion stirring kiss on his cold crusty lips
when the lover in him takes over him with a vengeance
his  universe takes a quick turnabout
to love, longing and hope, he resolved to reject
cold sun is no more a disappointment,
just the opposite, sowing new seeds of warmth,
Isn't it then true, what we hear, every now and then
"Woman is the center of man's universe" Amen
K Balachandran Jan 2012
a bartender, ace in his art, gave foundation,
a street corner harlot,
taught secrets of free spirit;
transcendence happened.
1.1k · Oct 2011
A COMET IN MY DRINK
K Balachandran Oct 2011
A small piece of sky

has fallen in to my cup

brimming with lust for life;

a mysterious brew indeed.

I relished in silence

it's cloudy turbulence,

the comet fallen in to it

made all the difference.
1.1k · Sep 2012
Laughing all the way to jail
K Balachandran Sep 2012
His poem made some one insane, it was alleged,
they took him out from his hideout and chained,
"Insane with pleasure, remembering soul's eternal mate" he said,*
they joked with him and danced; laughed all the way to jail.
1.1k · Oct 2011
FINERY
K Balachandran Oct 2011
On fineries, a woman has to wear,
passionately they discussed;
the name wasn't mentioned
though you were that woman
I was aware

A pendent in the  central parting of hair
claiming aloud attention, top most
and a necklace, the kind
that turns all heads
worn around the neck
like lightning flash

Twinkling studs
on both sides of the nose
that attract and stun men folk
like two resplendent stars
in the clear morning sky.

Armbands on both arms
bejeweled calling attention,
bracelets and bangles
all that she could elegantly carry

waist band highlighting artistic skill
 and her slender middle,
a belt in gold, a string of pearls,
the best of all worn by an Indian girl.

On her dimpled navel,
itself a work of  nature's  fine art
would shine a diamond
winking wantonly at every man.

Discussions on fineries went
many days on and on
I felt proud and contented
as she deserved all this and more.

But at the moment of truth
everything went up side down
"Who said she is the one?"
They had the temerity to ask.

On the illuminated podium,
a flower caressed by butterfly eyes,
she stood pale but smiling
still stunning without a bit of finery
K Balachandran May 2015
Morning mist frames her face, the contrast, he couldn't miss
a wild flower  fresh, bathed in dew drops, she becomes fulfillment.
A bee, as usual seeking honey,without being aware what awaits,
sleeps in her  chamber,couched in her love the whole night,
he stole her heart, she whispers, he keeps it as the fragrance
and the pollen smeared all over his being vowing never to remove,
a love it is, in essence different from all that he has hitherto known,
as if in a dream, stealing her heart,  he flies up to the ultramarine sky
all abuzz with love tunes , orchestration of nature, intoxicating,
his heart is full of light love fills, now this bee is even ready to die.
K Balachandran Dec 2013
Vanity she carried with such oomph and style
unlike in other cases, I didn't resent, that feeling
viewing her purely as a piece of art, made a difference,
vanity seemed not merely pardonable, but just right.
1.1k · Apr 2019
Spring sonata
K Balachandran Apr 2019
1.
Tip toeing spring, hoists her electrifying colors again,
All round, with the attendent scents and sounds sublime!
I find myself mulling over the words my dad uttered,
Etched deep in my psyche, when we were still tiny tots!

"It's each one of us that makes them do it,
The birds on these trees around us, sing"

He made it mysterious, but it rang a bell, revealed things,
We realized each little deed of us, did impact the world.
I see the honeybees in the beehive are a cosmos themselves,
Their hum, cosmic  "Aum" reminds :'You are the universe'
2.
Mom goes out and fills all water containers to the full,
She does this every now and then, very dutifully, I can see
We watch with content, birds making a bee line to each
Fly down and drink water to their fill, day in and day out.
My sister goes around the courtyard sprinkling grains,
In plenty, for all the birds regular and new to our farm.
She keeps crumbs, grains, seeds left overs in open containers
At the places they freequent, convenient for avians to partake.
What we in this farm has to offer, whenever they are here.
All for love , exept for the hope of sonorous moments they gift!
3.
On the patio, all of us sit, together,  our inner ears open,
As if to listen a serenade, just for us,under the open skies,
The pure silence in the begining, gets sweeter by the minute,
The calves run out of the cow pen mirthfully springing
Seeking their mothers' udder, as they graze out on the green.
The mynahs, together in a tone, affectionate, begin
To chat, about the delights they find in our farmsted, I guess.
The bulbuls and sparrows in a similer mood, quickly join in,
Sing aloud the paeans, perrhaps, who knows, all of us.
Nothing new to us, just routine, followed each season.
Yet we sit as if it's a first, soaking in it's incessent rain,
Moments ethereal, full of nature's soulful music!
Melting in a meditative trance we take it all in,
Oh! how sublime is your music, that envalop us like light.
4.
Big jack fruits, ripened on  tall leafy trees,
Exude a dainty scent, most appitizing, it wafts in the air
Hoards of grey squrrirals, it attracts, noisily they descend
As dextrous they are in food finding expeditions on trees ,
Studiously they drill open the big pulpy fruit that hangs heavily,
Skillfully from all sides, as if seking a grand prize hidden in.
Happy chirps, tweets and songs of early birds become
More ecstatic and loud, as time goes by and more join in.
They flit around us, as if to greet and cheer us, becoming bold
As we huddle together feeling closer than ever in their presence.
Our eyes wide open, gleaming bright, hearts full of light,
5.
Grandma who briskly walked past ninety summers,
Happy tears glistenening in her eyes,
Now starts to sing, a lark on her wings..we are overwhelmed!
Transcending joys of many kind, we felt the magic,
Beyond the limits of mind to an intense spot,
A feeling as if we all are gently  holding hands,
Floating on the air, sans wings...
Then again I hear the chant, the words my dad uttered,
Who'd never come back again to put us under his spell.
"Spread love around, you'll be fine and the world"
Every bird joined in the chorus, as if to hail his golden words.
Memories from a childhood spent in a farmstead, speak...
K Balachandran Dec 2014
"Look at me sweet light, come make my inner eyes yours
light me up, I am the universe, spanning light years across
galaxies of desire and the renunciation at altissimo, the peak
disentangle the  strands, liberate, to my abode let me  go back
How long I've been sitting in meditative wait, for your caresses
for that divine  touch that'd trigger ecstasy in multiples"



My journey is recorded in shades
of light and darkness, it's essence
returns to the flow eternal, dissolves.

I am the remembrance of nights
colored by sad, pale, soft  moon light
that keeps watch to million secrets
preserved in double helix, passed over as
codes that keep on telling stories from
time immemorial,still kept safe within,
which is my zen 'kon' to contemplate
and erupt in enlightenment, my right.

I am melancholy light, driven away
when sea blue drinks sun at last, liquefied,
every tree top then one'd find covered
with fire flies that play an orchestra,
in an ascending wave, touching
the acme,then  comes down rolling and dies.

We lived in a land of unimagined beauty
only a bit of it our conscious mind receives
that anointed us all it has, rain and wind
fog, ice and sleet,the warmth of summer,
remember the way winter made us tenderly
shiver together, as if we are explorers of a
world,we created and dissolve as we return.
Let's try to summerize the adventure we are in
1.1k · Sep 2012
My pet cat gets jealous
K Balachandran Sep 2012
"Allegory", my possessive  pet cat,
get terribly curious, when my door remains closed,
her soft  purrs turn frenzied feline shrikes,
when the muffled voices inside get louder, sounding  like caterwaul
.
K Balachandran Dec 2011
a dust bathing sparrow,teased me thus:
look at elephants and us,
mud and dust are better
than polluted water.
1.1k · Dec 2011
humble pie, sweet or bitter?
K Balachandran Dec 2011
Quickly,
he ate humble pie,
after a seven course dinner.
K Balachandran Jul 2012
In love with words,
I imagine, words dance to my tune;
**wisdom of ages reveals:
I just follow, words lead.
K Balachandran Dec 2014
Two fish shaped wet eyes, intently gaze,
while expressing pain, disarmingly implies
a sweetness, specially meant only for him
that too, apt  in that particular context,
when his antennae all are up, receptive.

He wants to kiss, those eyes,
as his eyes catch that special moment, poignant,
wants to taste it and make the sweetness all  his.
That sweetness, a bait, but he isn't aware,
with a deft dab of emotion,makes him melt,
paints her vulnerable, yes, a damsel in distress,
prods him to be chivalrous, the next moment.
How the salty pearls rolling down her cheeks
play naughty games with unsuspecting tender heart,
concealing  the puppet play in which men and women excel.
K Balachandran May 2015
Aum..Omm
the wind booms,
the holy chant
kept awakened
my inner power grid.

The invisible fingers of wind
play sensually
on the salacious forms
sand readily assumes.

Inside the pyramid
I built brick by brick
with my love for you,
hope and anticipation,
silence stood frozen;
ages rained over it.

I was oblivious of
anything other than love,
kept waiting for you there
in my anthill beyond time.

time immesurable passed
like waves after waves
beating on the sandy shores,
numbers are just the creation
of mind's illusions like time and space,
but love I believed would fight back
the vagaries of human transience.

and at last I see
a turtle swim above white form
of an imagined ocean, my love
I see you swimming along
a mysterious apparition.
the moment has come
to redeem me from this bind.

It's like coming up from
the depth of blue waters
escaping a death by drowning.
Seeing your smile  was like
an assurance for a place in the sun, all over again
but I stood stunned as you walked past in silence.

And when I chased, you dissolved like a mirage,
the shadow alone was left on the sands, a coiled serpent skin!

after a trek that felt like a lifetime, I found you again,
there , at my favorite oasis; but it wasn't you
I knew from the first sight.  
                                               On my lips you kissed
one last time, for the sake of love that kept us wait in vein
in words dripping pain you whispered in to my ears:
"This  isn't real my love, you are day dreaming,
forget me the flower bloomed in mirage, go back to depth,
stop vainly flitting in transience, only one way we can unite
eternity waits for us , it's not this shadow of love, but real"
K Balachandran Mar 2012
her smile, virginal,
she is immaculate, an angel,
but don't loose sight of this fact:
*a sinister shadow lurking behind.
1.1k · Oct 2012
An Officer and a Lady
K Balachandran Oct 2012
Irresistible in combat uniform,
the officer act tough, verifying ID,
But her soft eyes, seeking mine,
apologize, how feminine!
1.1k · Oct 2018
Her eyes,stolen stars!
K Balachandran Oct 2018
She stole from the sky,
I made her eyes fixed on mine!
One celestial fling.
1.1k · Feb 2015
In a word's inner world
K Balachandran Feb 2015
She was the river
sweeping flow, caressing
the banks of his life
a run down town
inhabitants had deserted
      one by one
citing various reasons,
sounding perfectly legitimate,
gifting him a blue gown of fog,
magical, written loneliness
in pastel colors all over it.
She was the flow
he wanted to immerse himself
bit by bit, on her he wanted
to float as debris, left over
the current that electrified him
with her surge, gave solace
with gifts from the mountain
of her origin and the planes
she visited.

             "Ḧere is a word" she said
on a sad day of his,
when  sun scarcely smiled
which in retrospect he realizes
the day he was redeemed,
elevated to the planes of immortals
words surely are!
He was bathing in her
bubbly waters scented with
mountain herbs, wild orchids and
faecund earth
"Ä word that would have
all answers, spoken in silence
a word, ultimate that tells you
  who you are"
a lark sang that one word,
from the limits of her flight,
a star wrote it with it's light
under moon's watchful eyes,
wind boomed the word's high notes,
stringing it's sonorous lyre
He kept the river's word
as a treasure wrapped by his soul
he still lives in that living word
his true abode.
K Balachandran Dec 2014
Day keeps his tryst with winsome light
under the golden dome of the opulent morn,
still shamelessly eyes the leaving jealous night,
with the glad eye, reserved for a concubine,
to whom at sun down he stealthily returns.
This illicit affair both consorts are aware,
hasn't it sustained both, with him as the buffer!
K Balachandran Dec 2011
The
*****
is mightier
than the sword;
if one knows how to
creatively use.
Try hard,
lunging forward
make your deep marks,
though short lived.
(the similarity
to  sword
ends here,
thank god,
no blood shed,
war cries of
a different kind
would be heard
but soon die  down
more over ,
these guttural and nasal sounds
express the depth of subconscious.
all will be quiet soon.
the curtain falls,
  to the accompaniment of rhythmic snores
till cupid recuperates.
1.1k · Mar 2012
seamless dichotomy
K Balachandran Mar 2012
Brooding in the park, sketching loneliness,
i found company,
broke work midway-
to chat, till it got too late.
1.1k · Oct 2011
SOLITUDE OF THE POET
K Balachandran Oct 2011
A solitary hunter
am I, let me confess,
with a  heart,
pining for  visions of beauty,
fleeting through this ethereal haze.
In my hunting trips I don't ever ****
only cajole
luminous words
that entice me
or striking images
to surrender, that would
become a rapture timeless.
A lonely hunter am I
who goes deep
in to the tangled jungle
of time, unarmed,
walks backwards
and forward
levitates upwards
and some times
zoom down
to capture the moments
defying gravity.
You call me poet,
in fact ,
I am an oracle
speaking in  the syllables
of thunder,
from  the subconscious
for all to hear
prompted by a possession   mysterious
I  still couldn't  discern what.
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