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Arrow loves the prey
Rope adores the bull's neck
Ocean loves the gasping fish ashore
Sky yearns for the shooting star
Root loves the drained well
Flower likes the empty pupa
The Destitute loves himself

The girl washing clothes in the river says:
My love is to this finger
To erase dirt from hidden creases
To wipe the soap-burned eyes
To point at those peeping eyes
Amidst the bushes
What else I have?

In the idle hours
Without going anywhere
Whatever has it not shown me
Took me to wherever not
This slender stout finger
Translation of 'Viral' Malayalam poem of Sivakumar Ambalapuzha by the author himself.
 Jan 2016 P Venugopal
r
Wisteria
 Jan 2016 P Venugopal
r
Oh, come on you black-eyed
***** Night. Spite me
with sleep. Strike me, like
a cottonmouth. Sing me
your dark song, like a footfall 
in my hallway, like a night watch-
man dropping his lantern,
a last turn of the fan, a whisper
of a mystery, a kiss with wisteria
and moonshine on your breath.
 Jan 2016 P Venugopal
Little Bear
I lay in my bed and for the first time this week,
I have not woken to the alarm.
It's Monday and it's my day off.
And the house is quiet.
And a little thought comes to me and says
"hey, you know nobody's home right?"

Now, there is nothing that will get me out of bed quicker
than knowing nobody's home.
And with a big smile and a medium sized skip,
I go to the kitchen,
sleep disheveled and mostly naked.
I put on the kettle and let Ellie out for a ***.
And I make coffee and I run a bath and I feed the pets.
All while I am mostly naked,
because...
Ha! nobody's home.

And I have a bath,
with the door wide open
and I sing and play with the bubbles,
blowing  them on the floor,
because...
well...
no body's home...
Such luxury.

You see,
my house is usually full of teenagers,
it's full of noise and cooking and computer games
and woofing and laughter
and music and...
boy smells...
yuck!
So now,
I can make the house smell of my bubble bath
and my perfume
and make it smell clean.
Ahhh...Such decadence!

After my bath I dry myself and dance to music and sing,
I put on only my underwear,
but I don't care,
because,
nobody's home
and this is all too much fun.

And,
because nobody is home,
I turn up the music and dance with the dog,
singing so badly.
She is glad no body is home too.

Now,
there is a little space under the table,
just big enough for a hidy hole,
a perfect place to put some warm blankets
and make a me sized snuggery.
And so I do,
laying a blanket over the table and covering my nest,
I am content to just be.
I take some books and a drink and some biscuits...
for later you see...
or if I have visitors,
because,
you must always be polite if you have visitors
and you should offer them biscuits.

But then a little voice reminds me
"you know there is some double chocolate cake in the fridge right?"
so, I take a big slice,
I mean,
it would be rude not to,
and I sit,
in my underwear,
eating cake
in my blanket fort.
No one will know and Elie won't woof me out.
Oh.. such utter indulgence!

And after a while of my misbehaving,
because I know I am,  
I think I might need to try a cigarette.
So I find the secret stash,
which is not so secret any more,
and I lay in my little blanket nook and light up.
After the first two puffs and plenty of coughing...
because I don't actually smoke,
I get the hang of it.

And I lay
quietly contemplating my life
and the world and the universe...
and how there managed to be a sweet
stuck to the underside of the table.

And during my musings it slowly dawns on me
that today is actually Tuesday...
and I am now late for work...
which means that every body is,
in fact
home.
 Jan 2016 P Venugopal
wordvango
I'm quite odd. A bit strange deranged, or maybe I just
root for the underdog. For those already made, those with riches
galore, I foolishly? ignore.
Those who are striving , seem to me more pure.
And I will and do often as I get the chance wish them well.
For I feel a closeness. To those held down oppressed , those who feel
with every fibre the next breath. To them, those on the outside, I cry for
you and shout. If I had a temple or were god, you would be invited , there.
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