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K Balachandran Apr 2017
Butter hued flowers,
From tip to toe, the tree sighs;
Burden of beauty.
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 Jul 2012
Gloomy  morning attempts,
lazily an abstract,
on the damp canvas
eastern sky extends,
halfheartedly smearing,
dark monsoon clouds
along with some white and grey patches,
then slowly, warms up to a red mood;
as if by a second thought
adds full of flight of birds,
for an effect.

Avian splay, what a display!

The sun visibly gets pale,
upset being just a part of the picture,
unable to dominate, as his usual practice.
Not at all pleased at the emerging picture,
he sulks at the prospect,
of more dull, vain clouds rushing in,
spoiling the composition with their-
chance  megalomaniacal dominance.
K Balachandran Sep 2012
Aren't  winking stars daydreams
of the dark night?*
each glint in your eyes,
is reborn as a song in my psyche.
K Balachandran Dec 2018
Stardust in my bones,
Bonds with starlight in your eyes;
We are the universe!
K Balachandran May 2012
Sharks, wolves, hyenas
and vultures seize the day;
**deer, hare and the like,
live in fear and consternation
K Balachandran Jun 2012
She would sit with me,
holding my hand-
at scary moments;
when i stand on the brink.
Walked beside me with firm foot steps,
when i trudged slushy paths,
and  treacherous mine fields.
Her watchful eyes followed
when i climbed steep heights,
told me all that to be said,
the way she only could,
She brought me in one piece,
out of nightmares,
her gibberish endearments
gave me goosebumps,
none did ever see her cathartic dance
with me at times, i needed her most.

Secret lover she was, i thought
of my haunted soul,
how would i know
about the curse
that made her so, for ever!
Burned out and down
her i addressed each morning,
as if she can absolve me from all my sins.

She would remove hemlock, from my blood,
this life has made me drink,
to corrupt, and eliminate;
inch by inch,
sink my beleaguered ship.
She made me forget a love gone sour,
she'd take my hand in hers and kiss it till i snore.

She soothed my mind finely, more than any shrink,
her peppermint lips tasted, witchcraft and spice.
She was the only one who knew my secret,
at the dead of night, in clouds
when moon stealthily hide,
I change and become a werewolf.


A mad dog of a wish, selfishly
made  me take  that false step,
uncontrollable by my wish, i spoke forbidden words.
The spell was broken once and for all,
all i could remember was her heartrending sobs,

I stand here,
at my lonely window, overlooking-
this city of forgetfulness and pain,
in wicked words challenging me
to meet her again.
O
Remember Herman Hesse's novel "Steppenwolf"--
                                           Lonesome wolf of the steppes
K Balachandran Oct 2017
He stealthily usurped his favourite poet's celebrated pen
Strove  hard to write  with a footing on the poet's ken.
In what resulted, others could only see an overriding  yen
recognized patently as his; in this shady  game he didn't win!
K Balachandran Sep 2014
Spinning top vanishes in a blur
motion finds an inward swirl
through a tunnel undaunted
find quietude, dazzling light, merge.
K Balachandran Jan 2012
Please don't mind my stiff upper lip,
that's just a mild case of frost bite.
K Balachandran May 2017
I was a forest of wild desires
love engulfed it as wild fire,
lit by a spark from your eyes.
Never did I want to put it out,as
burning for what you gave me
was pure bliss,I realize.
The embers are alive, giving warmth
while the forest of desires regenerates
at a speed I  haven't known ever before.
K Balachandran May 2018
still is the night air,
scent of new blooms says something;
all dark, moves discreet!
K Balachandran Jan 2013
Still night, the stars are bright,
but all I see is the darkness,
thundering, like clouds
engulfing my tragic existence.
She  has left me wilting for ever.
I don't even know why,
she never cared to tell.
When I stand here lost,
cold wind with thousand pins,
****** all over my body,
as if to verify, if I am alive;
the night  sighs seeing me
pale and tottering.
Strange,  that pin ******
I don't  even feel,
but the thought, that she
has forgotten me for ever,
forces a dagger across my heart,
she mercilessly discarded.
Still night, it seems mourning
her absence, how could
one  think to  fill
the vacuum even for a moment?
Wasn't she my other half,
the Shakti, the power to
match the Shiva's dance.
Let thousand years pass,
her voice will reverberate
in my lonely soul.
K Balachandran Jun 2013
My schoolboy self
still lurks in mind's corridor.
Grabs chocolate from her hand,
makes a face if she doesn't budge.
If  quantum physics is to be believed, past , present and future exist in parallel; but this is about the past one carries within.
K Balachandran Jun 2018
Dark clouds stole the sun,
Wind is on rescue mission ;
Sun in remission!
K Balachandran Aug 2012
My whiskey nights are
tributes to the pain, you inflicted;
*but what pains me is
the soft rain your eyes shed.
K Balachandran Oct 2018
In arrow form storks,
Wing towards the mountain at dawn;
It’s one at the tip!
K Balachandran Jan 2016
An egregious, chained beast
lurks within the demure beauty,
something dark he reared within
perhaps a savage, recalcitrant,
quite ill at ease in the presence of her pet
wakes it up, viciously poses challenge,
beauty sedated, mute, closes eyes,at such times,
falls in to a fitful hibernation,
    allowing  both the brutes, to slug it out
till one of the two is overpowered
and roar of the other, the victorious is heard.
K Balachandran Jun 2018
purple dawn,rain clouds
stepped back, perhaps  awaiting
right time to rush in!
K Balachandran Dec 2011
stressed out we rushed
to take a holiday to burst it,
now, it's the holiday stress,
we have to fight!
K Balachandran Jan 2018
a scuba diver,
stunned by coral display,
forgets his way back!
K Balachandran Dec 2011
She insisted,
"need no help"
while fumbling
with the zip.
K Balachandran Dec 2012
Her devotion to 'Chicago manual of style' was phenomenal,
I was an ardent follower of style book of Associated Press,
Our loyalties,  were based on sound arguments, yes,
the  result;  we did split, and the writing stood where it started!
The style war is only indicative.
K Balachandran Nov 2011
Unsublimated lust
                       lingers,
                        like a
                              thirst,
                                  no water
                                         can extinguish.
K Balachandran May 2018
Placid water parts,
Up flies quick, a cormorant;
Epiphanous this!
K Balachandran Aug 2012
In my underwater home in dreams, I safely kept-
                                      dreams of you, spiral shells and conchs I collected,
                                                      ­              A fish, I'd become,  swim with turtles,

                                                       ­ *In coral reefs I had a million friends.
K Balachandran Jan 2012
Loneliness appears, like a gleaming dagger in darkness,
she  takes refuge under the tree of silence
she thinks her concealment would bring peace
in her heart,
she invokes happy memories

her soul is hurt,
she smells blood,
while trying to pull out arrows,
one by one.
she still has,
hope in nights' healing power.

with thousand gleaming eyes,
night watches her from a distance.
" women easily forget pains"
a voice from past speaks to her wounded soul.
she remembers all those
women, their perseverance,

learns to forget a dreadful chapter in her past.

she hopes:
"only if darkness is a curtain,
i can pull down
at will,
I would be healed'

these words echo
in her inner silence.
OO
K Balachandran Jan 2012
the
                      flower
           smiled,
          a
          wordless
                          wisdom
                                      caressed,
                                                                                my
                                                         ­                                                               ­silence
                                                       ­                                                                 ­                thanked.
K Balachandran Aug 2015
She is a man,in the blood stream,
gushing within her veins.
He acts her woman, willingly,
and he likes it every bit.
Together they create by chance,
a tumultuous ****** history,
never before seen, perhaps.
This subversion remains a secret,
with a meaning, on which
they never ever bothered.
A mighty cyclone, she transforms
that uproots structures monumental
if she really wants to trample everything.
He is a prankster wind,that love
billowing saplings; ripe rice as well.
Hovering on air, over land and water,
tumbling together, exploring depths,
they create mysterious wind patterns,
that add to the folk lore and myth.
Shiva (the male principle) and Shakthi(the female power)in union
is depicted in the form of "Ärdhanareeswara"(Half woman-half man)
K Balachandran Sep 2012
I thought it is just between us, a man woman game**
which i would play with finesse, a play, life is any time.
and she has a yen to be on top, i am game,
what the ****, I thought let her have her time,

but every which time, it was a ***** game,
something of a wrestle with the demon that
comes to bask in your neighborhood park, without fail,
a **** and a game..ha ha, fun prime time!

we use our fire power to shoot at the demon
that never came, except in the dark pits of time.
my shrink was appalled, when i poured my heart out--
'dark birds with dark pits for eyes threaten me'
"Don't smoke grass any more, don't eat your words,
blast, blast, till you are a cannon without aim"
we still endure, the world will be fine, she gives that disarming smile-
i miss a heart beat, such misses accumulate,

i am sure the dark pit of the night would frighten again,
still everything will be fine, hopefully, meanwhile -
she bites me, she hits me, put her nails to good use,
gives love a go, with an acerbic accent,
such a kind only, she could grow, somehow.

In ******* frenzy  she claws my ****,
and make it look like a war zone, blood splatterd,
and the moment she exploded,  and the frenzy ebbed,
she becomes a lamb, sweet and understanding,
asking the wind and waters forgiving.
K Balachandran Jan 2012
she rescued an ant from sugar jar
while making tea,
then,  looked daggers at him
stung by *sugar coated words.
K Balachandran Oct 2012
A wild flower,
two competing humming birds;
*she awaits for
her suitable suitor.
K Balachandran Mar 2017
None other than him
matters here at the noon.
The sun is an out and out autocrat
the sky, he singularly rules,without
any apology to anyone.
He has banished all the clouds;
not even the faint trace of
fluffy, milky  white strands
seemingly unstoppable
till the far horizon.

This is when his hidden
intention to scorch all at sight
is at it's atrocious peak,
which would lead to his decline.

Under the low hanging sky
the earth parched dry,
is a cry for mercy.Sun now is
a roaring water fall of heat
waves lash one after the other.

The village of thatched mud huts
stand dazed, like it's women
in this ascending symphony of pain
not feeling any difference of tune,
this is what it always been.
It's a living miracle, it  still exists
fighting the vagaries of winds and the sun
not willing to collapse as dunes of dust,
which would have been a better solution.

The little girls from a school
the only secret this village keeps,
in midday break pour out
like ants from  hidden anthills,
scurrying to all directions, trying
to cheat the wind spitting fire.

A frail old woman, her skin
sun scorched,dark,
deeply furrowed and folded
a true face  of resistance
life capable of in the face of
the attack of armies of obliteration,
sweating all over, sits under a tamarind tree
all twigs and only few patches of weak green,
cobbling for a living, as if it is her day last here.
Face to face with a village almost  in all time drout
K Balachandran May 2018
summer rain splurges,
abundant water riches;
a miser’s Largesse!
M
K Balachandran Apr 2016
Sky is a taut, grey net spread,
at its  best in creating panic,
relentless day a brutish marauder,
drained of color of every kind, bleak,
even thought of you distant, my nectar
plays hide and seek, I am plunging
in a hallucinatory spin, down, down.

From inside a furnace closed
with a tight lid under which heat
in it's fiery glory permeates
like never before, a full- throated roar,
without any sound it travels around,
in waves after waves after waves,
to scorch every single thing under
the blood thirsty sun, on a hurried
march for revenge,green turbaned
trees and scarf adorned branches
changed all those embellishments
gone bone dry,now stand apologetic
like kids that made bed wet and caught
red handed, shrunk in shame and pain.

Narcolepsy reigns, drowsiness
day and night, like marijuana haze
follows.
            This summer makes its name stick
in bad books,making T.S.Eliot look
shame faced for calling one past tame April,
uncharitably the cruelest of it all.
But this, this is an unbridled wild horse
none can in no way do anything to stop.

When even the last drop of water from
the pond evaporates,sunburn peels the skin,
sun stroke down people, who are unaware,
cruelty of April, becomes monumental.

Perhaps in few days time May could barter
that bad name from April,I'd easily guess.

Buildings , in rows and rows lie, til horizon,
like blood drained corpses all though the day,
the  appetite for life, they evidently has lost.
Song birds on flowered trees, have gone mute,
doves scamper, dart in to the air, with hope
to get few drops of water  from somewhere

Kindhearted few fill water and feed on containers
for stray birds,taking cue from the practices of forefathers.
Change in climate is an ogre, that could with bare hands
smash pompous attitudes  and other human constructs!

Will there ever be a limit, to the red eyed monster,
avarice, we all pamper, within our inner courtyards,
that forces human beings to to do "Harakiri"
like a proud Samurai does with his own sword.
Harakiri-Ritualistic honor suicide by the Japanese "Samurai"
warriors who  value honor above any thing
K Balachandran Sep 2013
The break of dawn-
I stand near
the  river flowing
like life,
open my eyes wide
and gaze
the purple sun,
starting to
climb up the sky.
Water in my cupped
joined palms
offered to the sun
slowly gets heated,
warmth permeates to my body.
In to my inner ear
sun whispers
his music of colors;
a profusion
beyond words,
that creates
in my inside world,
never ending
fields of sunflowers,
that in joy, dance.
Thoughts that has
roots in light,
emerge from
deep down in mind,
on day and night.
Sun gazing originated in ancient times  continues to be a daily ritual in India, though number of people following it  is far  less now.Modern scientific studies prove that early morning sun'e rays charge the brain and enhance brain activity.
K Balachandran Apr 2017
****** summer
sun has his way with the hills
that look drained, panting.
K Balachandran Jan 2019
Dangling red hot sun,
Mellows, finds no better luck;
Ease in to dark sea!
K Balachandran Apr 2017
A kite's distress call,
starved and thirsty,there she falls,
sun, calling shots.
K Balachandran Dec 2011
morning sunshine bright,
tickles me like
  my lovesick
sweet heart.
K Balachandran Oct 2013
The sun, passionate lover, persistently follows his beloved,
gentle river, a demure maiden from the hills.
Though  sparkles and glows on his attention,
she loves to shelter more, within the woods, out of his reach.
When she at last comes out in the open,
to the planes, look! how much overjoyed the resplendent sun!
With his million magical hands he embraces her
she turns  crimson, in her intense desire
then comes the subtle moment of ecstasy,
in the ocean, they both conjoin, together they swim till nightfall,
the story is enacted, in endless variations, between these lovers.
K Balachandran Jun 2018
golden threads of sun,
weave a flashy evening dress;
nature wears it pleased!
K Balachandran Jan 2012
tired night, changes her dark tunic,
sun slyly peeps;
feeling shy, night flees
dawn slowly arrives.
K Balachandran Dec 2017
Above the glitzy city lights,
Super moon hanging low, sports
a broad smile, far too bright
that to the wide world proclaims:
"In this game of light,I am the best
Don't mind making jealous the rest"

A distant star winks in agreement!
K Balachandran Dec 2014
The gushing river through his interior landscape, runs very deep,
this surging Ganga, glaciers feed, is one of Himalayan profligacy.
Wouldn't stop, or deter a bit,on any eventuality; a mighty force it is.
his beloved sea, was moved by this, swelled up to meet midway, merge.
K Balachandran Jul 2013
A gleaming, sharpened  sword, SHE could **** without bloodshed,
HE is Buddha's gift of light, surging above, wind and waves,
they wouldn't cross each other's path it would seem, from the outset,
                                      but both are sublime,
in higher realms they permeate, in greater cycles they spread,
the sword that's her at that level of awareness
never would shed or touch blood, but cut away confusions, with light,
whichever be the path, once one  becomes accomplished,
peace would fill and lighten the soul, preparing to soar to the abode eternal.
K Balachandran Nov 2011
Totem pole
in new role;
before the mall
soliciting all.
K Balachandran Sep 2012
"Seeking the absolute, kind soul?
show me the yard stick to measure-
the absolute without the slightest error"
                **"Acceptance"
Be open .  Accept the infinite grace. Surrender to the cosmic order
K Balachandran Jul 2017
siren sounds nearer,
punctuation police stare.
over, my off road drive.
K Balachandran Nov 2017
Gently you patted my cheek,
with a tenderness piquant,
not  known hitherto to us both.
Those quivering long fingers
exude motherliness,I miss ever after,
my mom has gone to her last pilgrimage,
And I crave for at moments of pain intense.

From the layers of memory darkened
by distance,I recover that feeling,
to place you instantly at a level higher,
than that of a sultry lover to whom
desire than anything higher binds together.

In to my lackluster eyes, you peer,
see the ineptly hidden drop of tear,
in the corner shivering plaintively
before rolling down to lose forever,
it's in the memory of my mother,
who rhythmically tapped my back,
led me to the cozy cloud of sleep,
when outside raged the rain storm,
I now gather, to a women I owe
when, time after time she takes
another avatar, of my mother,
momentarily, at times,when earth slips,
from under the feet
unexpectedly.
                         You did see the storm raging
inside and the child looking for solace.

You hold me close to your *****,
and I travel to a world gone by again
even when wolves howl refusing to sleep.
and let me doze off to wake up in another world!
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