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K Balachandran Feb 2013
Tweeting together,
two birds mate in ecstasy
a song in frenzy.
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Under the open sky's benevolent eyes,
when everyone in the caravan
was in deep slumber,
                                   his  lonely heart was on fire,
when he felt, someone touching his forehead.
The past he could tell, was catching up with him,
a venerable monk,  a divine presence
with his white, long flowing beard
stood leaning on his long, strong, staff
peering at his face, those eyes, the light of grace,
"Make peace with your past,
make the bats hanging upside down, vanish,
with deep repentance, cleanse your turgid soul,
its in your hands, then see what happens"
rang the Guru's words in his ears.

He rocked all his dark loves to sleep and bid
good bye for ever to his weeping wounds,
Eyes raised skywards, he sought forgiveness
to everyone he did wrong, in silence.
He heard the guru's words repeatedly booming in the wind
"Repent, it would absolve you for ever"
He meditated, till his cloak from black to white transformed.

At the day break, he woke up to a new life,
the ground, was deserted, silence reigned, expectently
No trace of any caravan, did they vanish in to thin air?
The rhythmic pounding of the staff, of the monk,
was it just an illusion of mind, a visitor
at moments of darkness and doubt, bringing light?

To some questions, we don't really expect answers,
the very questions are the answers we look for.

The valley was full of flowers,  and sky
was crowded with robust white clouds, portentous!

**As he was walking down the rocky path,
a woman looked at his face and asked:
"Monk, where did you come from?
aren't you the one they told, would come, no doubt!"
He smiled.Understood.
K Balachandran Oct 2013
She appears a determined stare or the other, a drop of tear,
he oscillates like a pendulum, between her changing moods-
that take him by surprise.But he is blissfully at ease.
His swing every moment, spans between love and an empty space,
ebullient life and dark forgetfulness without any end.
On the periphery everything appears to have a symmetry,
in the river,water rushes towards the sea, watching it from the bank,
one thinks everything goes fine, but to see what happens in life
one needs to look deeper in to the current, keep ears closer to the ground
to understand. Love has more power than even tempered iron, you'll see,
if you understand how it works on every situation,
even surpassing your own estimation.

                 "Come hither" her  eyes plead without even words, he quickly responds,
                    his heart allows it to happen even without a thought.
                   The wind, not giving any hint, swiftly moves and caresses the flower,
                   Love is blind, plays it's games, without even logic, would you believe?
                   Let's just flow together, forgetting everything else.
Here for two years... 1300 poems posted
More than 400,000 reads..Thank you dear friends of HP community for the reads, feed back and
nurturing in every which way possible.  How can I express my love to one and all in words?
Bala
K Balachandran May 2018
amidst leaves,nestle,
sun drenched luscious mangoes;
wind keeps the suspense !
K Balachandran Nov 2017
purple leaves abound,
mango tree blushes,bride like;
dancing with the breeze
K Balachandran Nov 2018
Purple mango leaves,
The tree unfurls on one morn;
Tender smile at the porch!
K Balachandran Aug 2012
who kills the reality softly?
you and me join hands-
with advertiser's ploys;
*make believe, better than real, we agree!
K Balachandran May 2018
a praying mantis,
comes dressed up as a green leaf;
prayer or duping?
K Balachandran Aug 2013
Making her senses keen to discern it better , she realizes:
"This giant of a tree, is no less than a wonder"
on it age plays a game different, no one is able to gauge,
ancient times nurtured, wind and rains embraced it tight,
scorching sun, in all his tropical fervor, couldn't daunt it,
eventually sun and the tree must have fallen in love with each other,

From morning till night, this banyan listens to many voices,
long days didn't make any difference, every day is new to it,
the roots searching under the earth, the hanging ones above,
create their own world, the ones below earth search for water.
when they come up in certain places, they look like creatures
prowling crocodiles, reptiles, or even  imaginary creatures, without names

Hang roots defy all rules, prefer the shapes of snakes it seems
anacondas, vipers, pythons or cobras in search of prey.
This banyan is a catalyst,  from bird to humans here,
find a shelter,take rest for varying times. It's Grandma attitude
makes each seeker of  solace and rest go back with happy smiles.

Some times here, a pauper speaks to a pundit, roles get reversed,
experience speaks louder than the knowledge in the book,
the many voices heard under the banyan makes,
one awake, from slumber,  the orchestra of many voices,
builds a music, euphonious in its composition, pregnant with meanings.
K Balachandran Nov 2018
Night is a garden,
Full of blooms, deep dark,scenting
Marijuana
K Balachandran Jun 2018
a still waterfront,
below, plankton hoodwink whales;
each a world unique!
K Balachandran Feb 2012
life sure seems a carnival;
                                     only masqueraders everywhere.
K Balachandran Oct 2012
Carnival night, we found ourselves huddled together like bats,
Masqueraders both,  we never felt more freedom than this;
every forbidden act, seemed natural,
My God, suddenly it dawned, she was someone I know for sure.
K Balachandran Aug 2012
A canine trickster, trained himself
to phonate in cat's lingo;
his cat call sounded dog's howl,
caterwauls, were all fowl!
K Balachandran Dec 2011
Leafed
through
Masters and Johnson
someone left;
jargon galore
bore.
Masters & Johnson on *** and human loving is the book mentioned above.In place of Ma&J;
substitute  Kinsy Report(****** behavior in human male/female) or Hite report(on male sexuality/female sexuality)
if you please.
K Balachandran Mar 2014
Matador, **** the beast
that run amok inside your psyche;
the urge to throw in the towel
then becomes natural.
Amigo, you are the problem, the bull is your creation
you realize that too, but pretend it's just to
amuse the audience, blood according to you, tickles!
you are the harbinger of good times..hear the crowds roar..
they too, act as if they buy your story
because you have the sword, and the power to ****
but if you  turn weak, slowly fall, they'll hail all bulls
fell prey to your merciless sword
K Balachandran Jun 2017
swaddling the moon, cloud
slowly dissolves, the moon floats
alarms the cranes.
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
K Balachandran Jun 2018
one grabs many things,
wanting to be something;
on the path to naught!
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
K Balachandran Jul 2012
"Are you the hunter
or the hunted?" I asked,
"Both and the gun
that shot" she said!
K Balachandran Jun 2018
doleful, the rain tune,
from trees we hear no bird sing;
passing wind hisses!
K Balachandran Sep 2013
kind blue water, turning reluctantly black
by dark night's persuasions,
fallen yellow moon melt in to it
embracing swiftly changing waves,
curious fish, swimming up to it
from depths hoping to get a bit of moon splash,
drama of life,continues, changing players
moment after moment...
K Balachandran Aug 2012
On top of those broad steps,
face, framed by a wildly flowered
rose bush, she stood awaiting me misty eyed;
after ages, it seemed so unreal,
in a rush of memories
I too cried
K Balachandran May 2013
Just the memories of her,
make his winery full;
he gets inebriated at will,
drinking it drop by drop.
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?
K Balachandran Nov 2012
Winter,
covers the trees,
tenderly with fog,
                    and the flowers,
                    gift their fragrance,
                     to the mist to preserve;
                     like the memory of a lover,
                     forgotten after,
                     an intense season of love.
winter
acts on each one,
differently.
                     she said,
                     winter makes her skin,
                     crave for caresses;
                     she is a tree with secret hunger in winter.
                     I have known that all these years.
"my fruits
need your tender care,
all through the winter days"
she murmurs in my ear.

                           I love winter
                           touching me here and there,
                           like a shy bride, curious but timid.

I sense her tender fingers,
creep on to my body,
under the cover.
I get enraptured
by her  amorous touch.
I wake up and pretend
not to notice the ingression,
as it pleases me so much.
Winter has already started knocking on the door, here is my first winter poem, this season.
K Balachandran Nov 2011
mother,
sister,
daughter...
women
teach
men
advanced
lessons
in  living.
K Balachandran Apr 2014
You are the deep blue sea,
my red shimmering sun
   little
          by
               little
                       sinks deeper
                       a gasp,
                       a  silver shiver, exquisite

inside the dense waters
sun moves in sensuous pace
arousing hellacious passions, sea hides
makes her yell out
in thousand  voices of seagulls

Intense spasmodic waves
rise and fall transmitting euphoric notes
that dissolve in the gentle golden light
of a lone curious star, watching
without batting an eyelid.
K Balachandran Jan 2013
Rising sun gently kisses her brows,
she transforms to a rose,
on that  ethereal vision of beauty,
he goes through a metamorphosis.
K Balachandran Jun 2018
turmoil reigns the sky,
monsoon clouds do poetry;
Juggle metaphors!
K Balachandran Dec 2011
meteorites
in quick time , displayed
their profligacy
in a heavenly
poetry writing contest.
K Balachandran May 2012
We*
      asymmetrically connect,
                             yet,
                             *perfectly fit
K Balachandran Nov 2017
I fell head over heels in love with my comely neighbor Bernadette
Without ever seeking consent of the noble soul,just think of it!
All those long passionate,purple prose crafted, burning midnight oil
My offerings for her,reposed in my imagination,till they withered!
K Balachandran Mar 2012
Two  kites, in mid flight,
stray, get entangled;
the pair flying kites , melt in a kiss
oblivious of the world
.
K Balachandran Nov 2015
"Perhaps I am late" perplexed he thought and rushed forward,
the place was deserted as if an invisible  cloud of grief has descended.
The intermittent gun shots , he mistook as the beginning of  fireworks,
he stepped on the manicured lawn, wondering where all others had gone.

He stopped stunned,blood was splattered allover, there a night began .
K Balachandran Sep 2018
Lone midnight crow caws,
Dutifully out to dark;
Darkness never sleeps!
K Balachandran Apr 2017
The midnight bell tolls,
A barn owl accounts with hoots
Night's mix of music
K Balachandran Jun 2017
Mighty wind, for all your mysterious intents,
you seems to be many to me , not always so kind,
lover of fecund earth, you caress and kiss her often
brother of water and fire, you take them everywhere,
space and you are hand in hand, you are one and all!

The flowers you kiss, gently scoop the pollen away
put it in other blooms, that for long dreams fruits.
With the trees, women with unkempt matted tresses,
you play pranks,tangle them all together,in a moment.

Up you blow the fine red dust , on the winding hilly path,
conjure up psychedelic patterns, on the air out of misty dust.
You, like a dog rushing in to a flock of sheep, chase clouds
frightened they run helter- skelter, bleating thunderously aloud.

A playful kite, at your assault, shoot upwards like mad,
many in one you are, each different as you sashay forward,
and then, the passion ebbs, spirit dissipates, you seem kind,
satiated and quiet, tip-toeing like an alley cat, seeking a home.
Mighty wind, with a lasting bond with nature's elements
one with fire, water and earth, oh! how you sweep through spaces!
K Balachandran Jun 2012
A bikini perfect body
creates flood of party invites;
but, the gibberish of blank mind,
in lonely moments, becomes ****-joy!
K Balachandran Nov 2013
"Invaluable, these three things I cherish"
he  tells her , "Will you sell each, ask any price"
"Certain wealth refuses to be sold", he makes it clear
" Whatever price you quote will be far less
than the value  I give, there is a flip side too,
others won't find any worth in its glitter,
then would any one even touch it, even if i offer?"
she was puzzled and demanded an explanation
"All the three are memories effulgent,
so much alive these moments are in my mind,
how would I transfer these to others, even if  they desire?
Imagine the moment they cease to be alive for me, in some case,
it's their death, they loose all value, just  dumped in to the dustbin of time"
K Balachandran Apr 2019
the game is over,
chess pieces all, put away.
yet the mind plots moves!
K Balachandran Dec 2011
uneventful life
he found, fun
all action
happened in mind.
K Balachandran Dec 2011
mind the narrow steps
to my inner garden,
where bloom poems,
the  atmosphere  dense with fragrance.
K Balachandran Dec 2011
meditative
                 mind,
                 what did you find?
                -- how to transcend limits.
K Balachandran Jul 2012
Covering the wall of my reality,
hangs the mirror of illusion;*
on its quirky plane,
I see reality's lateral inversion.
K Balachandran Dec 2018
White night, frothy light,
Moon wears a mischievous smile;
Take a deep breath, wait!
K Balachandran Dec 2011
girl
in wet dress,
shows
more than
what she possess.
K Balachandran Nov 2011
Minotaur man,  
             marries
                      mermaid beauty;
marvelous
            asymmetry,
                      of spectacular
                                    proportions.
K Balachandran Dec 2012
Walking along the bank
    of the  prancing village brook,
lined with screwpines
in full bloom spreading
                  musky scent
                 and shamelessly imitating the color of  your skin,
thinking of you all along,
on the way to Krishna temple
you frequent,
I see a surge-
a bevy of giggling village belles,
your ***** friends,
march forward,
holding the hearts of young men to ransom,
teasing me on the sly,
for courting you so ardently.
Who can stop them,
a barrage breach of
Cupid's darlings,
tailing me by chance.

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

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

              On long black tresses
they wore garlands of jasmine,
    can't help pity their haste
and muddled taste,
    you would have told your brood,
how jasmine would have felt,
     unless perfectly adorned on hair, those
incomparable blessing in fragrance.
"Like a lily among thorns, so is my darling among the maidens"
Song of songs (2:2)
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