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K Balachandran Oct 2012
The more her canine teeth,
dip deeper, on his shoulder,
on crossing the threshold of pleasure,
the more he gets elated;
then, a doubt raises its head
and whispers,*"just being  plain dutiful,
or was it, like she felt, really beautiful?"
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 Oct 2017
a mystery is-
bound between one's birth and death;
yen to transcend it!
826 · May 2012
mock war, make love
K Balachandran May 2012
Mock war of words, aroused both,
rough and tumble fight-
shifted to bed,
*sweet animosity culminated in blissful silence
826 · Jun 2013
Life in a death dance.
K Balachandran Jun 2013
Eyes of the matador were moving daggers, swift,
pinning bull down, they order surrender.
In a twist, breaking free, the bull evades his eyes
and snort, "Now it's your turn, let's see how you escape"
826 · Dec 2016
Let the currents decide..
K Balachandran Dec 2016
It was too late
to realize this:
all along her boat
was circling
the island of
expectations.
She cuts the knot
at one stroke
and feels free
from the albatross
around her neck
at long last;
her boat like a
unbound horse
gallops into unknown
currents, in love with
deeper sea secrets...
K Balachandran Dec 2014
This

innocuous, looking,ancient brown
papyrus scroll contains, on every inch of it
wisdom invaluable, rare to find
(we guess)


But
we are relieved of a misery as none has
been ever successful in reading the script
not a bit , even once, hence staling won't help anyone.


So

there is no security risk in keeping it open
in full view of  all, in case someone ingeniously cracks it
we too can rejoice for this miracle, otherwise let us
sit like this, hoping for this winter gloom to somehow end.


All*
we look for is for some  cheer, even someone
with ulterior intentions is fine  , let any one show up
for once, breaking it open letting know what is in there
so precious, is it all we need to rejoice, theory of everything


*
any one?
K Balachandran Feb 2012
lady bird, mon amour
how we  longed,  to come together,
jealousy has hidden weapons,
fight any threat,  to our togetherness.
mon amour- French for 'my love'
825 · Mar 2015
Apparitions
K Balachandran Mar 2015
He saw her completely vanishing
from his reality,
but in disguises gatecrashing
in to his poetry.
825 · Nov 2011
end of wanderlust
K Balachandran Nov 2011
The moment night opened her treasure chest
I stood astounded, at her riches immense
felt rich myself, beyond the material sense.

days dazzle with the jewel in the sky
what else we need, it is pure joy indeed
if you look at life with appreciating eyes.

love is all I seek to make me complete
and forget the transience of human existence
the moment you press me to your palpitating heart
ends my wanderlust,  love would celebrate  it's triumph
825 · Feb 2020
Time plays tricks on us!
K Balachandran Feb 2020
I've been away for a long  mystery walk
When you knocked at my locked door.
Far away, under a smiling sky I was waiting
For a red rose to open her eyes fully,
To appreciate her beauty and breath in
Her fragrance, that'd prompt me to wait
Till  you  visit after all those stormy years.

But see what did happen instead,

A miracle that should not have happened!
You have come seeking me, how can I put it,
'Against my wish?' Am I  right there?
I was expecting to hear your footsteps
Even when you step out from your cloister.
My hermitage was  eager to hear your knock.
Much much earlier, but you put it off
On account of some unknown reason
But where did I go wrong,on your arrival?
Even if I am as swift as wind we won't have
A chance to embrace each other....heareafter.
Time is the juggernaut that decides the laws
Of the hallucinatory world we believe ours.
When the time ceases at a big crunch
We are free from  the hallucinogen  we are fed.
825 · May 2014
The serpent and the rope
K Balachandran May 2014
The dark eyed painter, made me her canvas,
winter was still lurking in her fingertips
my skin sizzles when her fingers wearing ice shoes
walk over it in a frenzy rarely seen
to get me readied for her work of love.
in the dull prancing light when we walked
back from the beach listening to the waves
roaring in sadistic delight
                                            she saw a serpent wriggling away,
chasing her illusion as before,I found, it was just a tangled rope
freed from fear, she came running
embraced me with boundless joy, said
"How would I survive in this world full of  riddles
of serpent and rope mire one in every single step"
"Maya, my dark eyed charmer, you are my world"
I saw her power ruling my world, I have no escape
unless we decide.Extending ******* she asked:
"Which one, serpent and rope or snakes and ladders?"
closing my eyes, I touched one, my fate was decided thus,
while we undressed each other and got ready for a skinny dip,
I was in a trance gone far beyond the reality's front door.
"Rajju(rope) sarpa(serpent) bhranthi(illusion)" in Upanishad texts is used to  explain illusory nature of the world.
In the semi-darkness of ignorance a rope is mistaken as serpent inviting
all emotional responses of seeing a serpent, but when light of wisdom illuminates, those anxious reactions disappear.
This world appears to be a serpent( when it is just a rope) due to ignorance.
825 · Dec 2011
she is worth billions
K Balachandran Dec 2011
deeds
decide
worth;
she gave me
a million dollar hug.
824 · Jan 2020
Remains of an eventful life
K Balachandran Jan 2020
A trail of smoke rises,
A died down pyre,broken clay ***,
Crows eat scattered rice.
In Hindu funeral ceremony,which is largely symbolic a  terracota ***,symbol of mortal coil is broken by the son who leads the rituals.Crows eating the rice and eight other grains is considered suspicious.
K Balachandran Dec 2013
The flower was so perfect
and dew drops on it
gleaming in sun let out that secret
looking for the rarest of rare,
the humming bird on his quest was spellbound,
their communion was in a world they created
with all they kept precious,
some things were left unsaid or hinted,
yet they felt nothing amiss,
some more just alluded
and it was so clear
the ambiguity surrounding the short lives
of a humming bird and a  flower
was made in to an exquisite work of art
that flower to him, remains a metaphor
and till the day he let go the mind
he created (and that created him as well)
she'd live in him, he in her
the symbol of  the ultimate, life could offer,
in this mysterious planet.
K Balachandran Apr 2014
Across the river in the woods
she met the white tiger;
she wished to surrender
the opposite was his desire.
K Balachandran May 2013
Just the memories of her,
make his winery full;
he gets inebriated at will,
drinking it drop by drop.
823 · Nov 2011
Nirvana
K Balachandran Nov 2011
tall girl,
           short boy,
mutually
           immersed
under
          starlight.
K Balachandran Jan 2012
wonder gifts instant wings,
soar up, see the magnificence, with new eyes.
when one stops wondering,
life gets uninspiring.
822 · Dec 2011
certain uncertainties
K Balachandran Dec 2011
certain
uncertainties
are certain,
now and then.
K Balachandran Dec 2011
Oh! God
(Are you there?)
extricate us,
from traffic snarls.
822 · Nov 2012
Janus
K Balachandran Nov 2012
You are the cure
                       and the disease.
821 · Dec 2011
crazy nightmare
K Balachandran Dec 2011
i dreamt
vampires
greedily emptying,
bottles of
tomato ketchup.
K Balachandran Dec 2011
look up at the night sky,
a soup bowl of  cosmic enormity!
just pan the galaxies,
where time is dead , born or living!
no more delusions of greatness,
or poses of  imagined miseries !
what chance we mortals stand,
for any claim of  glory or grandeur?
each of us, a speck insignificant,
even great Einstein was no different.
so rejoice and sing your own song,
the birds and bees knows this, better than us.
forget your insignificance.
sing a paean to infinity and
be happy till that hour.
O
K Balachandran May 2013
The coiled serpent at the base,*
Kundalini slowly responds, rises through the spine,
the thousand petaled lotus at the crown,
is its final abode, then, the unsetting sun.
*Mooladhara or the base Chakra
K Balachandran Jul 2015
Every single girl, he thought
he was deeply in love with,
one after the other
were opinionated mirrors,
only capable of unfaithful reflection,
interpreting him the way each pleased,
no two reflections, ever did coincide!

Where is the real him,
he always wondered
how fickle it all looked,
the place he stood by mere chance,
did make a difference, it turned out,
the dance, the dance, like one is made to walk
over the burning red  coal bed continues.
K Balachandran Dec 2011
to meet everyone's need,
          plenty in the world, Gandhi said;
                  not enough for greed.
                       but we made greed our need.
K Balachandran Feb 2015
Monsters without form roam menacingly
in her mind's dark night;
the light of her magical lamp, on them falls
transforms one by one to poetic delight.
820 · Mar 2017
The wild fire of love
K Balachandran Mar 2017
I was a dense forest of untold desire,
Love embraced me as the roaring wild fire
The gleaming embers in your kohl lined eyes lit,
I wouldn't ever think of putting it out my dear
Burning in the sanctifying fire of your love
Chanting aloud the mantras of fire sacrifice:1
Wasn't it bliss itself; a new avatar our love takes hereafter.
The embers are still aglow in this forest's treasure chest.
Fire sacrifice: Is the Vedic (5th cen BCE) Indian ritual of offering butter and many other select purifying material to fire chanting "Idam na mama"(This is not for me,meaning it is for the well being of universe)as a means to create harmony between human beings and nature (by purifying environment) and also the harmony within human body and between members of community, who involve in the purification rites.
820 · Jan 2017
Night
K Balachandran Jan 2017
Each night is
precisely set
like a  gem
within  a dream.
Immersing in
the fluid grandeur
of darkness,
the night
swings  around it,
when one
looks back---
the day has
already become
a past dream
in an irretrievable realm.
The excesses
darkness commit
in a frenzy
in the night's geography.
excites me.without an end.
And what the moon
does to annul the
handiwork of darkness too
fascinate me.
Night is the story
of contrary crafts
calibrated to perfectly fit.
K Balachandran Apr 2012
I secretly imbibe a lesson,
in discreetly concealing passion,
from her consummate model,
mostly language of eyes, lips and hands.
819 · Dec 2011
wondrous afternoon
K Balachandran Dec 2011
Don't you love  the morning, it's calm?
i love,but not the frown
on it's face,
evenings anoint
a golden glow on your
lonely mind,
a gift, absolute free, if you know, how to receive!
evenings are meant for wonders,
(one girl  who shared the magic of many evenings
used to tell, over and over again, a kindred soul
i still remember.But that was in another life.Forgotten)

when the moment is ripe,
you become one with the heart of things
without even words or gestures
at the moment of meeting this girl
I could discern; she was voice of wonder
her silence, i realized, were
whispers of jasmine flowers in spring.

i had this whim, to talk to her eyes,
they, as i expected were eloquent,
there were wet messages sent by water,
my water table resonated.
it was almost mystical; each  element
eyeing at  corresponding element.

she pulled down  the curtains,
and in that darkness with wings
she created, we gently kissed
probing the depths; crevices that
suddenly  start to thirst,
outside her window flowers were smiling at us
i thought,  hoped nobody would knock at  the door;
silence moved our hearts with it's music surpassing limits,
outside the window, in it's cage
the pet parrot, tried to tell  it's master
that we kissed like passionate lovers,
and then breaking brittle silence,
she spoke for the first time,
"Listen to the inflections of musky Champaka flowers"

all my senses were eager to obey her,
after a long languid walk, the evening
started it's race towards darkness,
you get the messages mostly when
light tells it's mind,I know this much
all that mattered was the wonder-
she brought  that in abundance to the evening.
OOO
K Balachandran Jan 2012
the bar maid,
hides her human side;
acts as expected.
818 · Nov 2011
FLOP STORY
K Balachandran Nov 2011
In a happening town,
portrayed in a
much awaited book of fiction
an imagined woman
elopes with someone;
a shadowy figure , the inept novelist
shoddily handled.

    this character
at one unexpected turn
disappears without a trace.
the female character
aspirant protagonist from chapter one
was reduced to a mere caricature
without any future in fiction.
817 · Nov 2011
chain reaction
K Balachandran Nov 2011
Wind whispers
trees repeat,
water listens
sky reflects.
817 · Nov 2014
The poetry that I tasted
K Balachandran Nov 2014
The last drop of poetry i imbibed
was written in light, at your eyes
as my moving lips, avidly partook
the nectar on the petals of your lips

ഞാൻ നുകർന്ന  കവിത
(Translated  in  to  Malayalam )

ഞാൻ നുകർന്ന  കവിത
തൻ തുള്ളി
നിൻ മിഴികളിൽ വെളിച്ചമായ്‌ തങ്ങി
എൻ പ്രേമവ്യഗ്രമാം ഇരുചുണ്ടുകളാൽ ഞാൻ
നിൻ ഇതളുകളിലെ തേൻ നുകരവേ അതും മോന്തി
K Balachandran Nov 2011
an armadillo
falling in love
with an ant;
evidently
a tragedy
in the making.

                      A nightingale
                      getting enamored
                      by a crow;
                      certainly is
                      a comedy
                      in perfect proportions.
an elephant
trampling
the tropical jungles,
falling head over heels
for a blue whale,
even if for a while
is an adventure perilous
                         he and she  
                         falling in love
                         without rhyme or reason
                         propelled by a heavy dose of passion
                         is love at first sight, the height
                         it is thought, of a romantic liaison!
but tragedy and comedy
with all probabilities of
incompatibility lurk in human minds
till it strikes with out any signal of warning,
if the two, supposedly madly in love
are not certain, of the reasons, of the love that struck them,
and swept off the feet, in the inebriating love season
K Balachandran Feb 2012
Professedly my self is existential;
romanticism trespassed , claimed a share.
K Balachandran Dec 2011
I spoke to an ant,
she complained that
the world treats
her with  utmost contempt;
most animals will second it
she stoutly claimed.
(except few lap dogs and arrogant cats)
we need to organize
a world parliament,
to include, all living things,
all good people,
kindly look in to it
816 · Feb 2018
in the rarefied air of love
K Balachandran Feb 2018
such eloquent eyes,
her luminous spirit's dance;
love, to him gifts two wings!
K Balachandran Oct 2012
The night sky of sleep
was ebulliently psychedelic,
specs of colors, yellow, brown, red,
created an ancient language
that spoke, secrets of a forbidden past,

The helicopter crept through,
the sky, tearing the canopy
of lights momentarily,
landed on a high rise apartment of dreams.

                                Now, after all these years,
difficult to remember,
who lives where;
aren't we somnambulists,
without navigational aids?

I would suddenly wake up
from one dream
                             within another -

soft touches of tender fingers,
sweet whispers in my ears,
soft light spreading its palm on an exposed shapely breast,
                                                         ­         I'll sense a disquiet,
a sigh, the pangs of a weeping heart, incidental results of
a life of passion, strife and agitation,
getting ****** by currents,
diving deep in to swirling waters
                                                          ­    

                                                           ­     In a dream, a young woman,
                                                          ­      standing on a podium, in a class room,
                                                           ­     teachers in a trembling voice
                                                           ­     how to appreciate poems:
                                                          ­      "From beyond light years,
                                                          ­       comes our grief..."
                                                       ­         the scene dissolves in to mist.
                                      
                    ­                        silence!


I am an yellow moon,
she is the pale mist circling,
we are in an embrace, momentarily,
                                         in a dream
in the jeweled bed of the night sky.
815 · Jan 2014
Dawn of love
K Balachandran Jan 2014
without a word
we told each other:
"let's not explain anything
and stop the rainbow from vaporizing"
the moment stood still,
like a big red blimp
hovering above
                        overlooking
the breath taking vista of hills
                          where the dawn
displayed its magic, yet again
but in front of our eyes, like never before,
the moment suspended motion,
for a long long while,
till we lost all sense of time;
wasn't it heaven brought down for us?
will it happen again, our hearts beating in unison,
repeatedly was asking.
K Balachandran Jun 2014
As he walks blindly, the somnambulist
deep in his subconscious is awareness why it happens;
loveless nights prompts wanderings in darkness
he can't willfully stop this wild goose chase
814 · Feb 2016
Within the four walls
K Balachandran Feb 2016
She is clad
in white,
even the stain
on her satin
underwear
is pallid.
As tear drops
well up
in both eyes,
she pleads,
"For God's sake
always wear white,
Do not  provoke
the bull in heat
by showing red
in front of the
huffing beast"

Spare a thought
for her, discern
her reasoning
well, see her plight
with open eyes.

Men in black
with violent streak
imbued from
stone age powwows
are on the march
through high streets,
colonizing homes.
Media, self obsessed
and power drunk,
periodically shriek
make mandatory
noises to please itself,
but to no avail,
in a globalized world,
strangely  getting
polarized in micro level
men and women, remain
just pawns pulled in to
the simmering cauldron
of boiling  turmoil.

But see this;
a woman in white,
holding up a white flag
she signals surrender
in abject fear,
can't attack her, right?
Within insulated walls, beyond Geneva convention (against torture)
814 · Sep 2012
Vignettes
K Balachandran Sep 2012
Didn't you kindle my fire?
douse it, douse it,
honey drops seep from the honeycomb,
*lick it, lick it..
K Balachandran Aug 2012
In a golden goblet, I was offered
the last drop of honey, tasting bitter;
*a wave of sweetness, rushed to engulf,
from the seething sea of memories.
810 · Feb 2016
Topsy, turvy life
K Balachandran Feb 2016
She finds every single day
invariably wears, to her horror
a night as a gown all over it
made of deceit and mayhem
of many kinds deftly woven as one.


Makes it an imperative
for her to choose from
nights of two kinds,
quite unsettling, it has become
as the world progresses,
is this truly any step forward?

If she  wants to count sheep
desperately in the hope of managing
forty winks, that too has become
a luxury, she can't easily afford.

She has the other prospects
staring on her face, not a welcome thought;
reject the challenge of  nights altogether
lie gathering dust in a corner for ever.

Or resurrect, herself mustering the
last of hidden power, turn a whirlwind,
rage against the hypocrisy
of the sleep deprived world,
rotting every moment of it's life
yet pretends nothing is there
to worry,remains uncaring about
it's downward spiral, gathering
momentum, turning nights in to days
and forcefully making days wear darkness
This malady, is not just a tempest of sleep deprivation..it's sleeplessness of cruelty , insanity and a chain of such pests..
810 · Feb 2018
uprooted
K Balachandran Feb 2018
a fast moving cloud,
soon becomes a flock of birds;
migrants in frenzy!
810 · Sep 2012
Libidinous love
K Balachandran Sep 2012
Under lovely arched brows,
          those            eyes,
                pyrophori­c,
                                  opalescent,
                ­                                  lascivious;
                   ­                                          invite--
                         forbidden thoughts
                                            to my mind.
K Balachandran Sep 2012
Speak to me in wordless silence,
though we are so far apart,
swift winds will bring the woeful sighs,
your heart, sends out for me to hear,
send your heart beats, soft and warm
through the wings, the winks of a  lonely star,
i would hear in my doleful moments
those  poems of your brooding heart.
every beat of my heart will seek you,
" the  scent of wild flowers!" you 'd think,
*Speak to my heart every moment,
though we may not come together again
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