Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
1.0k · Jun 2012
Ancient fort atop a mount
K Balachandran Jun 2012
Ancient fort
surrounding the top of a mount,
reminding the formation of  an invading army,
built on queer shaped steep rocks.
Sedimented  layers of silence
centuries old, lay heaped all-round
unnoticed by dazed visitors.
Tales of blood, tears and heartbreaks
this fort has told aloud,
reverberated through the hill sides
for many successive generations,
making silent nights fill with
the sobbing sounds of village folks,
have now become muted.
This ancient fort is a memorial
of many things, men and women of yore-
marked with their lives;
valor, honor, and courage,
taking death as the answer to many vexing questions.
A time when '**** and get killed in a heroic fight'
was above all other dictates of life.

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

I close my eyes,
obliterate time and space
just for a moment
and see darkness,mourning the death of light.
**Who will dream lasting peace now at least-
to make  all wars come to an end?
perhaps, countless forts, castles and garrisons, around the globe,
once shed blood, that flowed like rivers in all our lands.
K Balachandran Apr 2017
The scent, the garland of fresh  jasmine
bedecked on your enticing coiffure exudes,
tickles desire  for an immediate tight embrace.

Musky aroma of blooms of  yellow Champak,
you  always carry around gets  too heady,
demands at least a passionate kiss quick,
if not an act fully dedicated to cupid,who won't lie.

Listen how breathlessly he suggests, options
that would suit to tastes different, one after the other!
If fragrance enhances love interest,lurking veiled,
why,but why,this discord,my dear? Be bit patient.
K Balachandran Jul 2012
"Quiet river,
are you aware,
of an inaudible-
murmur,
like a chant incessant?"

"It's in the nether depths
of the consciousness,
the undying quest
of the inner being,
to discern
where this
swift current takes"

"Intense
invisible current,
the life force of all movements,
what inspires you to swiftly pass?"

**"A relentless quest,
in the core of consciousness,
to embrace eternity,
awaiting
in the blue ocean bed."
1.0k · Apr 2017
Lonely night haiku
K Balachandran Apr 2017
Enigmatic night,
Weary satellite's SOS light,
Mysteries at dark.
1.0k · Dec 2018
Our future story
K Balachandran Dec 2018
Milky Way collides
With Andromeda; the result?
Wait, four billion years!
K Balachandran Oct 2012
That marauding meteorite,
                                                   too­k away my heart.
As Ammukutty points out no hope that she would come back anytime soon!
K Balachandran Jan 2012
stories are full of flying animals and talking birds,
Gautama rushes home evening,  
hoping to listen some from mom or dad,
dad seems always busy in conference calls
with north american clents.
every night with out fail
dad tells the  same excuse.
mom comes late at night tired and irritated,
Bangalore, sure rides the wave of global IT boom,
Gautama,  all of five, thinks , a child here lives in hell.
no one has time to read a story to a child
life has become a mad rush to and back from school.
no one these days not even ask,"why Gautama doesn't smile?"
K Balachandran Oct 2012
As the  mountain wind blows
with an ominous boom,
the mandarin ducks
in migration quack, aloud-
and spread gloom,
the water once I swam
had a stench that kills lilies inch by inch,
I feel a pall of gloom
spreads around, a numbing grey shroud.

I wait here alone, at the end of my tether,
my heart being eaten by moths with long fangs,
soft voices die, acrimony reigns,
things need to be done, can't wait any more,
please listen, my heart's only hope.
I can't share the pains with none, but you,
I waited , staring at the path's end,
harsh light made my eyes sore, tearful.

I feel, now the dark alone will take over my soul.
I  listened, the bell ringing at your end,
but you didn't  pick up the phone,
did you in thin air vanish altogether?
you don't understand, but time
runs out, like a  sudden dam burst,
*the world we believed in, is crumbling, with a sound,
this deluge will pull everything, down
Please do something. This is the last call.
1.0k · Mar 2014
The Kiss (4&20)
K Balachandran Mar 2014
Flower, passion filled lover,
remember ever, the very first moment
we forgot our separate existences
became one, melting in a fragrance.
K Balachandran Aug 2013
Draw a clear line,
definite demarcation of reality and illusion,
he was given the brief straight and simple,
by the impatient project chief, no ambiguity to it,
just a matter of sorting it out, what is real, what isn't
when far enough in to it, he found it humbling,
everything real begins from  nebulous, returns to it,
real and illusive, are in a dance of interchange, exhilarating,
the cheer spreads as cosmic glow beyond destruction and creation
universe, a kaleidoscopic percept seemed a conjure of cosmic imagination.
Is it better to be a metaphysicist than a physicist, though the former's life is penurious
and the latter is plagued  by the problem of plenty,
in the matter of grants and hence, the  issues of proper accounting..
With more and more grants flowing like water, are we anywhere near the truth ultimate?
1.0k · May 2014
Vigor in blue
K Balachandran May 2014
Hazy eyed
satisfied
just out of the
tumultuous
stream of
pleasure,
picking her
things and
stuffing it in her
hand bag quick,
a moment before
stepping in to
the lift quietly,
she turns to him
and slips
a ****** pill
in to his reluctant palm,
with a suggestive
squeeze,
(an after thought
ahead of a
future plot,
he realizes)
he slips it
carelessly
like in
other times
in to his hip pocket
smiling to himself
mulling over her
****** avarice,
fear of failure,
and insatiated desires
she bundled up
all these years
and kept hidden
like the pill
a promise for tomorrow
deeply buried secret
among the knick knacks,
in  her bag.
K Balachandran Nov 2014
A vision, in a flash told him about her ultimate mission,
that's the best of gifts, for anyone that walks on this planet.
When you are here, only for a short while, find out the one thing
some one special wants to fulfill, then, help accomplish it,all out.

No need even to ask what makes the passion to them, so intense,
see the sense of purpose, the grace; swiftly they move towards the goal,
every being roaming here, has a mission kept coded at the core,
as for her, she is the " ambassador of love" from the cosmic  effulgence.
K Balachandran Mar 2020
Life, a brief sojourn,
In an unknown airport lobby,
Between an arrival and departure.
1.0k · Apr 2012
Tarantula's lover
K Balachandran Apr 2012
Tarantula, my dark forgetfulness,
your love is poisonous, they warned,
didn't heed, took the less traveled road-
your ilk prefer; your desire is my need.
1.0k · May 2015
Hologram
K Balachandran May 2015
You are the erroneous mirror
also the distorted, reflected figure,
and the observer, the  root cause of all,
just, comically absurd,if you see straight.
But this plight, to you remains alien always.
as the logic works outside the bubble.
Cosmos is within an illusory bubble
Pure consciousness flows, beyond it.
1.0k · Jun 2013
Confluence
K Balachandran Jun 2013
"Ripples spread" she whispers,
he becomes unstoppable,
in ebullience they merge**.
1.0k · Feb 2012
the other side of silence
K Balachandran Feb 2012
city night,
speaks
in million
discordant
neon voices.
                   night in village,
                   has lanterns
                   shedding  soft yellow droplets of light,
                   here and there;
                   singing solemn
                   hymns.
city knows no silence.
it's music is cacophonous;
pain is its sweetness.
when silence descends
city is stifled,
looses its color.

village absorbs
it's wisdom
from deep dense silence-
the color of green foliage.

for the village,
grass is green
on the other side of the fence;
but city is coiled in itself.

silence slowly looses ground.
K Balachandran May 2012
Fish i was, once
An amphibian, bird, then a beast,
evolving much, what am I now?
*uncertainty in human form.
K Balachandran Dec 2011
lilies bloomed  in the pond
expectant of the moment,
moon comes for nightly bath;
feel cheated when it is over.
K Balachandran Mar 2014
Lucky to be here
in this ringside seat;
incredible dramas get enacted
on the stage of my mind.*
                #
1.0k · Jul 2012
How it began
K Balachandran Jul 2012
' The urge to surge'
lord of the universe
commanded **"Arise"
And that was the word in the beginning, uttered without sound;
                                                        of course, what we know as universe came later.
K Balachandran Dec 2011
practice to
strengthen
sense of humor?
laugh aloud
at yourself.
K Balachandran Jan 2017
This effulgent, white  cactus flower,
a bright thought, a creative impetus
from an eternal source, ever present
in spite of the  callousness all round,
emerging in the whistling desert of mind
like it happens after a single day of rain
tells me how beautiful things would turn
when within a bright thought blooms
defeating all thorny fruitlessness of life.
All prayers are only self inducements to activate the inner resources, ever present,when darkened  areas of brain will light up with the energy self generated,and things start to fall in place...
K Balachandran Jun 2014
I was sold to pain
in a slave market
that  didn't  look like one,
auctioned by a civilized crowd
of people just like you and me
in everyday life,
posing as my comrades, acolytes or lovers.
I stood firm on my ground
unrelenting even in pain's intimidation
and said, what  Valmiki
                 the first poet found,
        "Grief gushes out in verse"
                                 and I sing
                                        alone.
Poet Valmiki, according to Indian tradition, wrote the first epic poem "Ramayana" in Sanskrit  millenniums ago,  known as Adi Kavya(first poem) .Adi Kavi(First poet) Valmiki,  uttered his first verse in anguish without even realizing it as a new form of expression.He saw a cruel hunter killing the male among a pair of doves making love, oblivious of the world."Hunter, don't.." gushed out the anguish in the form of verse..the first ever. The theme extended in to the story of King Rama's life and the grief he embraces to remain a ruler true to his subjects.
K Balachandran Jun 2013
Like a hit of sudden thunder,

                                           I climaxed,
                  saw an alluring flush
                spread across her face
                    turning it to a lotus--
an adornment of ******* bliss.
An ancient moment dawned
before my  drooping, placid eyes---
a caveman's loud moans and cries
as he reached the pleasure's peak with his consort,
         echo on the cave walls, again and again**.
1.0k · Sep 2012
What the parakeet said
K Balachandran Sep 2012
In the bamboo grove they met, a garrulous parakeet,
repeatedly asked, "Aren't you in love couple?"
"We don't intent, we are out of it" they retorted,
*"Hey, you still keep it, kiss and make up"it pleads.
1.0k · Dec 2011
One world
K Balachandran Dec 2011
In sleep
she mumbled
in Portuguese,
reply was  in Tamil.
1.0k · Jun 2012
unknowable
K Balachandran Jun 2012
An echo endlessly reverberates-
across the cosmic serpentine space;
what sound gave birth to it,
no one knows!
K Balachandran Dec 2011
bats, ace acrobats, are in perfect form
up right or upside down.
warriors in nocturnal battle,
for skies, superbly equipped.
1.0k · Mar 2017
The Ghost of absence
K Balachandran Mar 2017
The haunted place was a taunt to mind,
was wrapped in a different kind of silence
that felt more like an accumulated absence.

Absence spoke in the words
of disturbing silence
or punctuating meaningless sounds,
all of it choked and evoked a
formless presence bound in itself,
without any point of reference
name or connections,
all erased by some quirk
time played on the turn of events.

What remains is an eerie
absence pointing to aggregated loss
which binds the collective will to express
The ghost's relevance diminished
to mere nuisance, nothing more.
This ghost has no clue where
it belongs or where to attach
still it's a faint movement  between
the shadow of absence and a vague desire
to appear as  an apparition.
1.0k · Nov 2012
Mating season
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Reclining on the garden bench,
leaning on my shoulder,
your eyes intently watch
something, I notice, though,
in my book,I am engrossed.

Taking eyes off the page,
I scan the the fecund garden,
abuzz with bees, chirping birds,
all kinds of hums and songs of life,
                                  spring brings,
and then, my eyes catch
that scene:your object of intense interest,

Two mating birds, in their frenzy of love;
two love struck mandarin ducks, very colorful.
                                   It's in this season they find, their pair,
                                    and give themselves to shameless lust,
                                   gentle tune of their bodies turning,
                                    intense, scorching their *****.

You withdraw, feeling shy
on your voyeuristic streak,
which i found out, inadvertently,
*but your eyes, cryptically,
make inquiries to me,
"Interested?" I whisper"Of course'
that sounds like an evil hiss
1.0k · Nov 2017
Golden shower of ice flakes
K Balachandran Nov 2017
Big white chunks of fluffy ice
flying down in a serendipitous sequence
falling against the yellow steady splash
of frothing evening light,full of mirth
in some moments glowing like embers
against slanting rays,again white
on extended meadow grass plane
transforming it a white spread sheet
of cool silence, with lessening patches of green.
K Balachandran Apr 2014
A resounding knock at the door,
a pair, with one killer smile stood
but how could she return it?
they barge in without waiting to be invited
the girl takes back her half of the smile at once,
and becomes the spokesperson
of the man with an intention,
from her strange countenance
one could discern in advance
the shock value of her request.

"As you know we live in great times
that value uncommon attainments more than ever,
we collect and auction them for the rich"

She didn't understand where they want to take her,
never heard the stream of tears would be the best sell
in an auction, though at times she was struck
by the sparkle that rivals the rarest of the real pearls

She stood perplexed in her hurt and pain, ancient
"Can't say how much we are fascinated
by your collection of grief, market is now wide
to accommodate, the variety of stuff in offer
your pain is so intense, it would certainly
create a stir in the heart of most hardened billionaire
we appreciate your persistence as a collector so rare"

She heard in deafening silence, the acidic voice trail off
is she saved or is it a bad dream yet again?
1.0k · Mar 2012
The kiss
K Balachandran Mar 2012
She was love-
tasting like revenge,
not in a hurry, but
deliberately as she desired.

-a dark searing kiss
that drew blood,
from my lower lip;
getting the dormant
******* in me ready,
in a bit,

I counted it a forgotten pleasure,
playing just sadist, as circumstances permit,
it was, if you want to know
for sure a class act,
she knew how to do it.

in my writing, she said
sounding like an analyst,
i was preoccupied with dark birds,
' i see their presence,
on tree top hide outs,
ominous darkness sitting quiet
with folded wings'

blood in my lower lip
tasted salt,
the hibiscus flower on her raven hair
(reminding animal behavior
on certain periods of need)
to me is a symbol,
she and i know, of what.

I peered in to her ***** dark eyes,
thought what she said was
false.
)O(
K Balachandran Sep 2012
The best poems of mine,
were written in my heart,
only for you to read;
you forgot, where it was kept,
and left without a word
.
1.0k · Nov 2011
to the feline princess
K Balachandran Nov 2011
feline princess,
with  lithe, agile limbs
mistress (with/of) dark instincts
tormentor of my libidinous dreams,

perpetually  under the spell of
your radium eyes,
experiencing , in every sense
your nocturnal effervescence,
I would doubtlessly testify anywhere:
your day light innocence,
is the act of a cheat.
(would I ever do that? you know, it is just a joke)
I am bit confused, still
why should you behave in that way?
you are indeed bold,  barbarous in an amorous sense
in that you are proud, as any one would understand.

your thorny nails
hidden under soft paws
plays with the ups and downs of my body
both ways, some times it only  tickles
and at other times, plunges deep, draws blood
                     I am a sinner with clean conscience
you can tell me all your desires
dark, white or purple
we would be together
in that  boat to the dark  dark shores
where you promised to
make me inhale the imagined flowers
of flesh with the  scent of fulfillment.
K Balachandran Jan 2012
scientists invented many marvels,
but never can dream of a **'love machine'
1.0k · Nov 2011
make love, not war
K Balachandran Nov 2011
no war of words
my love,
let amorous wars
decide*.
1.0k · Dec 2012
In the street of oblivion
K Balachandran Dec 2012
In a busy street,
though familiar,
somehow seemed very strange,
in every sense,
where, in milling crowd,
each one pushes and jostles
to inch forward,
they came face to face;
different planes of time
seemed to collide, in one second,
was it deja vu strike
in  the wrong way?

They both froze in their tracks,
"I am married" she whispered,
from a time in the past, it seemed.
As if his dream shattered
he felt a jab of pain in his heart,
brushing aside his sense of loss
he quickly asked
"With whom?"
as if the answer would change
something somewhere.
*A rush of guilt, quickly
took him over,
his voice  like a cloud in the sky
dissolved in the cacophony of life-
went out of hand,
"Isn't it me?"
1.0k · Sep 2012
sin for breakfast
K Balachandran Sep 2012
We had sin for breakfast,
along with cereal,
she found me too avid
and backed off from the pact.
1.0k · Dec 2015
The herdsman's secret
K Balachandran Dec 2015
The sheep were  in the pen, sheltered for the night
we then sat around the log fire to chat till we fall asleep,
under the open sky ,in a clearing on a wintry night.

Contrary to  what I gathered, he was full of life,
there weren't  any lines of worry, nor his face woebegone.
The heardsman looked cheery, humming tunes he loved aloud
which the pesky mountain wind, snatched and spread too soon.

I quiz  him about his treks to find pastures for the herd,
"Isn't it a task tiring , in the rough mountain terrain?"

"It's not me who leads the hungry herd to the pastures" he says
"As it is made the world to believe by those never had seen a pasture
The sheep know where the grass in green, and find the shortest path,
as pleasing them is my only wish , I dutifully follow their lead."
Who leads and who is being led-a question to ponder
K Balachandran Jan 2012
Why sound like blaming Parkinson,
for the degenerative disorder?
the good English doctor
only helped identifying the disease!
K Balachandran Dec 2011
One wet morning-
I heard,
someone playing mandolin
and wept.
1.0k · Dec 2011
crime against poetry watched
K Balachandran Dec 2011
under cover detective
(poet?)
threatened me,
"no crimes
against poesy"
K Balachandran Jul 2013
Marooned in an island of his own creation,
full of machine wonders and prehistoric monsters
                                 never one could dream,
he realizes,
life is what one brings out from
the depth of one's psyche's churning,
yet as much a creation of hands working,
on the potter's wheel that's turning
to create shapes of things we never had foreseen.

But deep down, he is a rage,
a fire threatening to erupt and consume all bastions of waste,
built, around our lives, by thoughtless monsters,
                                             then,
                                                a happy haze prompt him to flower,
                                                a rhapsody, kicks its baby legs inside
                                                a startling beauty begins to emerge.
K Balachandran Dec 2011
Good God didn't like
media's portrayal
of godly affairs.
even the mix up
in gender  embarrassed.
sending a rejoinder
by way of retribution
would be viewed
as barbaric at this times.
that will ensure
a media hullabaloo,
quite avoidable, it was decided.
so, a gentle curse
was finally  promulgated,
news on godly affairs
immediately got distorted
to the side of God,
with out the notice
of eagle eyed editors.
to edit a long story short,
this "editor's curse"
spread to other
media departments as well.
special correspondents
were specially bend
to distort their stuff, at will.
diplomatic scribes
used their skill utmost to
pitch one country against the other.
by and by distortions became
an unwritten rule, nay
a birth right of media tribe,
who could be fiercer than a pack of wolves,
not only on a full moon night
but on' any moon day' too!
Now it can be told,
this is how distortion of news or views
according to the whim of some
came about.
"Oh! God"!
OOO
Here is bit of insider information, as a news hound,tasted blood.Divine sanction to distort news for gain has been a secret till now
K Balachandran Dec 2011
meteorites
in quick time , displayed
their profligacy
in a heavenly
poetry writing contest.
1.0k · Apr 2014
To the pale rose
K Balachandran Apr 2014
Red rose
reflecting the color of love
in our cursed world,
since the day
you lost your gloss,
and looking so pale,
lost and forlorn
the moon has lost her sheen,
that held us close,
Waves of the sea lost their tune
and had fallen mute,
the sea breeze
completely evades
my path, as if I had
unfairly jilted her friend.
The beams of sun lost
their warmth,
the mingled fragrance
I inhale from my garden
where  variety of flowers bloom,
is now absent,
My pale, maudlin rose
disconcerted I am
beyond words,
what has the world done
to you for you to loose your hue,
shall I fall in love with you
all over again,
make your heart dance with love,
at the move of my wand?
Set the wrong of the world
right once again, with my tears
shall we be whole,once again
like before?
1.0k · May 2016
Light and shade
K Balachandran May 2016
A still pool dreaming,
Meddling wind on it's surface,
Ripples voice protests.
K Balachandran Dec 2011
poetry
    moves
      like
       ghosts;
           if explicit,
                       no poetry,
                                  no ghost.
Next page