Members
41/M/Cochin, India
Kuzhur Wilson Poet, India Kuzhur Wilson is one of the major voices of young generation Malayalam poetry. Wilson represented India for Dubai poetic heart 2017. ...
Poems
Kuzhur Wilson
Mar 2014
When we
Are alone,
Me and Ammini
Make another
World to play in.
Like the ever vacant
Sand houses
Some adults build
With their kids
On the beach.
Then,
I will get angry
Even if the gentlest
Of breezes
Passes that way.
She will turn livid
Even if a *****
Passes that way.
If
Single
Single
Memories
Or sighs
Or their scars
Appear on the face
She will
Wipe them off
With
Kisses.
After playing
For long,
We will fight.
Ammini will holler
Louder than
The way she laughed.
I will keep mum
Louder than her.
I will
Lay her down
Holding her close
To my *****
That will beat
Ammineee, Ammineeee.
As she pretends
To sleep,
I will shoo her off
Go away pussiiii!
As if the masculine
Of pussee is pussoo
She will shoo me off
Go away pussoo!
I will retort
Go away Poochamma!
Ammini will retort
Go away Pochamba!
Go away Kochambi!
Go away Kochambra!
Go away Pochambra!
Go away Sochambra!
Go away
Sorambi!
Go away
Soramba!
Go away
Soorambi!
Go away
Kooramba!
Go away
Koorambi!
Go away
……
At a loss
For words
She will
Change the tune.
Goaway
Slate!
Goaway
Bag!
Goaway
Tree!
Goaway
Pencil!
Goaway
Pen!
Goaway,
Ant
Goaway
Mosquito!
Goaway
Matchbox!
Goaway
Straw!
Goaway
Book!
Goaway
Cot!
Goaway
Chair!
Goaway
Window!
Goaway
Door!
Goaway
Mobile!
Goaway
Button!
Goaway
Computer!
Goaway
Trousers!
Goaway
Shirt!
Goaway
Sky!
Goaway
Puppy!
Goaway
Star!
Goaway
Well!
Goaway
Girl!
Goaway
Boy!
Goaway
Calendar!
Goaway
Fan!
Goazway
Doll!
Goaway
Broom!
Goaway
Tiffin box!
Goaway
Poetry!
Goaway
Annakutty!
Goaway
Appakutta!
Goaway
Ammikkalli!
Goaway
Appakkalla!
About to lose,
I will show the
Trump card.
Go away
Agnus Anna!
Her face will change.
Hesitantly,
She will say
Go away
Kuzhur Wilson!
Then
An
Intolerable
Silence
Will
Spread
There.
When Ammini
Turns back
To
Kochu TV,
I will
Enter
The bathroom
Shut
The door
And
Puff on
A cigarette.
Then
Another
Kind of
Game
That
Makes
Life
Intolerable
To live
Will
Pool
Around me
There.
**Translation : Ra Sha
Are alone,
Me and Ammini
Make another
World to play in.
Like the ever vacant
Sand houses
Some adults build
With their kids
On the beach.
Then,
I will get angry
Even if the gentlest
Of breezes
Passes that way.
She will turn livid
Even if a *****
Passes that way.
If
Single
Single
Memories
Or sighs
Or their scars
Appear on the face
She will
Wipe them off
With
Kisses.
After playing
For long,
We will fight.
Ammini will holler
Louder than
The way she laughed.
I will keep mum
Louder than her.
I will
Lay her down
Holding her close
To my *****
That will beat
Ammineee, Ammineeee.
As she pretends
To sleep,
I will shoo her off
Go away pussiiii!
As if the masculine
Of pussee is pussoo
She will shoo me off
Go away pussoo!
I will retort
Go away Poochamma!
Ammini will retort
Go away Pochamba!
Go away Kochambi!
Go away Kochambra!
Go away Pochambra!
Go away Sochambra!
Go away
Sorambi!
Go away
Soramba!
Go away
Soorambi!
Go away
Kooramba!
Go away
Koorambi!
Go away
……
At a loss
For words
She will
Change the tune.
Goaway
Slate!
Goaway
Bag!
Goaway
Tree!
Goaway
Pencil!
Goaway
Pen!
Goaway,
Ant
Goaway
Mosquito!
Goaway
Matchbox!
Goaway
Straw!
Goaway
Book!
Goaway
Cot!
Goaway
Chair!
Goaway
Window!
Goaway
Door!
Goaway
Mobile!
Goaway
Button!
Goaway
Computer!
Goaway
Trousers!
Goaway
Shirt!
Goaway
Sky!
Goaway
Puppy!
Goaway
Star!
Goaway
Well!
Goaway
Girl!
Goaway
Boy!
Goaway
Calendar!
Goaway
Fan!
Goazway
Doll!
Goaway
Broom!
Goaway
Tiffin box!
Goaway
Poetry!
Goaway
Annakutty!
Goaway
Appakutta!
Goaway
Ammikkalli!
Goaway
Appakkalla!
About to lose,
I will show the
Trump card.
Go away
Agnus Anna!
Her face will change.
Hesitantly,
She will say
Go away
Kuzhur Wilson!
Then
An
Intolerable
Silence
Will
Spread
There.
When Ammini
Turns back
To
Kochu TV,
I will
Enter
The bathroom
Shut
The door
And
Puff on
A cigarette.
Then
Another
Kind of
Game
That
Makes
Life
Intolerable
To live
Will
Pool
Around me
There.
**Translation : Ra Sha
“Wilson speaks the language of the Christ contemplating life in the dark cavern in the twilight zone between crucifixion and resurrection. At the door, stand guard numerous women, goats, dogs, birds and reptiles speaking agitatedly in a vernacular tongue. All objects, living and non living, fall within his jurisdiction. Over everything falls a great sheet of sadness like a gloomy rain. “
Ra Sha
Ra Sha
Kuzhur Wilson Sep 2016
Luna
Kuzhur Wilson
Sep 2016
one morning
Sunilettan came
with a puppy.
i was writing a grand thesis on the orphaned existence of discarded people.
when the tether was removed
i gave her a dry fish.
did not eat it.
gave a fulsome bone.
did not touch it.
gave the milk from the ad.
did not even regard it.
kissed her.
did not show any reaction.
because she came on a monday
i named her luna.
whenever i called her
she wagged her tail.
wagged her ears.
luna luna luna
i whispered thrice
in her ears.
like the golden peaks
of mookaambika,
he sharpened his ears.
me and he did not play
any game.
before we could,
she came under the wheels
of a vehicle.
without autopsy
without a second look at the body
i buried him
under the hibiscus tree
with many blooms
falling to the ground.
two of the flowers
went to a karnataka guy’s
father’s death rites.
some turned into hibiscus juice.
some were visited by butterflies.
frequently,
the earth where luna was buried
forgot her.
me too.
another noon,
a german dog named adi
was found playing a game
of placing fish bones
on luna’s tomb.
no dog will
cease to play
till the question hung in the air
“my little sister, you have forgotten me?”*
Kuzhur Wilson
Translated by Ra Sh
(( To S. Sithara who memorised Khasakkinte Ithihaasam (The Saga of Khasak) when she was still a kid)
Sunilettan came
with a puppy.
i was writing a grand thesis on the orphaned existence of discarded people.
when the tether was removed
i gave her a dry fish.
did not eat it.
gave a fulsome bone.
did not touch it.
gave the milk from the ad.
did not even regard it.
kissed her.
did not show any reaction.
because she came on a monday
i named her luna.
whenever i called her
she wagged her tail.
wagged her ears.
luna luna luna
i whispered thrice
in her ears.
like the golden peaks
of mookaambika,
he sharpened his ears.
me and he did not play
any game.
before we could,
she came under the wheels
of a vehicle.
without autopsy
without a second look at the body
i buried him
under the hibiscus tree
with many blooms
falling to the ground.
two of the flowers
went to a karnataka guy’s
father’s death rites.
some turned into hibiscus juice.
some were visited by butterflies.
frequently,
the earth where luna was buried
forgot her.
me too.
another noon,
a german dog named adi
was found playing a game
of placing fish bones
on luna’s tomb.
no dog will
cease to play
till the question hung in the air
“my little sister, you have forgotten me?”*
Kuzhur Wilson
Translated by Ra Sh
(( To S. Sithara who memorised Khasakkinte Ithihaasam (The Saga of Khasak) when she was still a kid)
*This is an original
reference from the novel ` The Saga of Khasak’ by O.V.Vijayan, translated by the author.
reference from the novel ` The Saga of Khasak’ by O.V.Vijayan, translated by the author.
Kuzhur Wilson Apr 2018
The White Shirt
Kuzhur Wilson
Apr 2018
The White Shirt
(To Vinayakan, cine actor)
I set out to buy a white shirt.
The man in the shop took out two-three white shirts together and put them down before me.
It’s Rs.1050/- This shirt fits you well.
For this one?
Rs.800/- It’s good, too.
That one?
Rs.450/- All are smashing!
Aren’t there anything costing less? In the range of 150--200?
An odd expression on his face.
Is there?
There is, but…
An odd kind of laughter on his face…
Where is that white shirt?
It’s not here. It’s there. Near that flower shop. In that corner.
There’s some problem with his smile.
What?
Sir, its what the dead wear!
Aha
Because it’s cheaper, those who wear that
Will die before their death?
Will those who were the more expensive white shirts, live even if they are dead?
Will the dead come alive, if they were more and more expensive shirts?
The dead white shirt
And the non-dead white shirt
Hung before me.
Finally, I bought a black shirt.
What’s it’s price?
No. I don’t like to tell you.
Kuzhur Wilson
Translated by: A.J. Thomas.
(To Vinayakan, cine actor)
I set out to buy a white shirt.
The man in the shop took out two-three white shirts together and put them down before me.
It’s Rs.1050/- This shirt fits you well.
For this one?
Rs.800/- It’s good, too.
That one?
Rs.450/- All are smashing!
Aren’t there anything costing less? In the range of 150--200?
An odd expression on his face.
Is there?
There is, but…
An odd kind of laughter on his face…
Where is that white shirt?
It’s not here. It’s there. Near that flower shop. In that corner.
There’s some problem with his smile.
What?
Sir, its what the dead wear!
Aha
Because it’s cheaper, those who wear that
Will die before their death?
Will those who were the more expensive white shirts, live even if they are dead?
Will the dead come alive, if they were more and more expensive shirts?
The dead white shirt
And the non-dead white shirt
Hung before me.
Finally, I bought a black shirt.
What’s it’s price?
No. I don’t like to tell you.
Kuzhur Wilson
Translated by: A.J. Thomas.
Vinayakan, An Indian Actor who loves Black