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15.0k · Aug 2016
train journey bits #1
Snehith Kumbla Aug 2016
what forests are those we pass,
blazing along the railway tracks,
a tree bloom of still cranes,
stream black of ******* bane,

stench of dead city rubble,
factories of rusted cast metal,
distant cotton twilight skies,
sun slide across a bunch of wires,    

passing tunnels echo
lonely platforms, frantic gecko,
looming hillside,
crackle dry wood fire,

a god barred in lock&key, 
blink glimpse of the sea 
one rush of vision,
pebble fling at frisson,

metal-crunch rhythm,
grind music sublime,
spark, grunt, grate,
we arrive, we dissipate...
(As experienced on a train journey undertaken in December 2014)
12.0k · Jun 2016
On A Mythical Mumbai Weekend
Snehith Kumbla Jun 2016
On a mythical Mumbai weekend,
of no serene start or dubious end,
with imaginary beauties, invisible friends,

I stepped out of a puffing train,
my long unkempt hair a lion's mane,
getting used to my twitching tail,

Posing on the Gateway of India,
the extraordinary explorer pose,
took a boat to Elephanta (sans the hose),

and when my shivering co-passengers
had finished feverishly taking pictures
and started screaming holy mothers and sisters,

I took off from the starboard end,
and became the first man-lion to
cross the polluted Indian channel,

surviving to make the news channels,
my scientific name listed as a brand new mammal,
my mating call recognized as a gushing gargle,

On a mythical Mumbai weekend,
of no serene start or dubious end,
with imaginary beauties, invisible friends,

I devoured deep-kissing lovers for lunch
at Bandstand's low-tide on a hunch,
to the delicious sound of munch! munch!

even as Shah Rukh Khan watched disgusted
from his big big bungalow by the sea,
and as the city sharpshooters came after me,    

and later when they brought me down,
from Nariman Point building, like KING KONG,
I tuned a dusty guitar and sang a melancholy song,

on the death of adventure, love and reality,
dangers of delusions, lethargy and self-pity,
repression, horniness and too much TV,

down in a shower of bullets when I went,
sky like the coming of rain, godspeed, godsend,
in a mythical city, where nothing is really meant,

On a mythical Mumbai weekend,
of no serene start or dubious end,
with imaginary beauties, invisible friends...
Mumbai - A crowded, stuffy, over-populated Indian city.

Gateway of India - A 1924 monument by the British to commemorate built to commemorate King George V and Queen Mary's 1911 visit to Mumbai.
9.0k · Jun 2016
Goa, in the rains
Snehith Kumbla Jun 2016
once dear
if not again

we must be in
Goa when it rains

find a place with
an open terrace

among trees
and lay there

drenched
devoured  

for days
8.3k · May 2016
The Friday City Hymn
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
all those in favour
of the weekend
say aye

AYE!

All those not in
favour of
the weekend
say nay
-
-
-

HURRAY!

The
AYES
have
it!
7.7k · Jun 2016
paper boat echoes
Snehith Kumbla Jun 2016
No
land **!
for you.

Doomed
expeditions,
oblivion,

Only
a wreck's
inevitability,

Yet
soggy,
dogged,

Your
floating
cheer,

Echoes
in childhoods
infinite,

At water's
origin, paper's
invention...
7.4k · Jul 2016
rain song, village
Snehith Kumbla Jul 2016
a rain is falling,
on the crack’d earth

a rain is teasing,
on the dancing us

how do we return this present,  
this overwhelming love,
endless kisses you shower,
in your every drop

a rain is calling,
on a thunder drum

a rain is singing,
come, ye all come

look the well is swell,
bare earth rustle green again,
how an elusive peacock cries
out the rain's endless names,

a rain is bending,
the mighty banyan tree

a rain is chasing,
cobra, ants and bees

how the sea rages in anarchy,
its heart is majestic today

cling of old things vanish,
in a flowing disarray

a rain is falling,
on the cracked earth

a rain is teasing,
on the dancing us
7.3k · May 2016
soft whose arrows are
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
how it descends
parachuting an
expansive heart,
soft whose arrows are...

to get drenched
is our choice, not
the sky's victory
or defeat; bliss...

a bridge betwixt
ether, earth, of a
peacock's throat,
dripping song...
The first rain of the season finally arrived in my city past midnight on May 10, 2016.
6.9k · May 2016
April Camping (in brief)
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
after a bout of giggling,
we quietly discarded
whatever we wore

and at the other
bookend of the act
the tent unzipping

a luxury of clouds
drifting to a *****
moon full ripe heavy
5.8k · May 2016
heat
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
the night is
a coveted kiss,
and yet it hugs
us so, gently
clasping our eyes,
probing and parting,
a river laid bare
and revolves
playfully there...
5.3k · May 2016
bubble
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
promised bliss of
unraveled cloth
discovered skin

ripples of touch
nibbles of kiss

carving of form
what they evoke

bubbling to the surface
4.9k · Aug 2016
impending
Snehith Kumbla Aug 2016
I try
warding off
the surge,

but it has
a sea's
nature,

lurking slurp,
mouth-watering
possibilities,

skin
lodged
to skin,

lickety
suckety
spring
4.5k · Feb 2017
Post Goa Syndrome
Snehith Kumbla Feb 2017
Goa Goa Goa
a whisper on my lips

Goa Goa Goa
way she moves her hips

Here at this drab desk
On a drab drowned day

Goa Goa Goa
sings the wind in my hair
4.2k · May 2016
siren
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
fire-breathing scalderer,
honey-gathered heavy,
your bow lip is

wild thy raven tress,
make turbulent seas,
ravenous claws

gently in the heat,
go floating, our
flesh embers!
3.5k · Jun 2016
drunkard vs streetlight
Snehith Kumbla Jun 2016
drunkard
to blinding
streetlight:

"YOU
BLINK
FIRST!"
A village tale, overheard.
3.5k · Jul 2016
Indian Summer, 2016
Snehith Kumbla Jul 2016
summer afternoon  
drifting into vision
gulmohar bloom


summer evening
does the breeze
dance or the tree?


summer bath
the shiver in
collected water


summer twilight
ma shops for
bigger buckets


summer dawn
music spills into
empty buckets


summer dusk
water tanker cuts
a snore into two


summer rain
*outstretched palm
barred window
3.3k · May 2016
Auria
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
may the eyes of every
slithering light be blindfolded,
my love is here with me

may the night be
as quiet as a village,
my darling gently dries her wings

let no thought betray,
no stone pelt a shiver,
my dove goes visiting a dream

hush now, oh deepest
of all fathom,
the world floats on a heartbeat

all things done, undone,
things indelible, leisurely
things, now discarded
a parting feather in flight
descends...

*her beguiling bejeweled body
This poem first appeared in the May-June 2012 issue of the Reading Hour magazine. This is an edited, altered version of the poem.
3.1k · May 2016
leopard greetings!
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
there was a young leopard
that morning in the sun

on hearing our joyous footfalls
it hailed out, "Having fun?!"

alas, not knowing, poor thing,
we didn't follow jungle tongue

and off we ran in such haste
as a question kept hovering:

"Having fun?!"
This poem is inspired by events that occurred during a trek with a friend on 10th November 2012. Though the creature

was not seen, circumstantial evidence suggests that we had a narrow escape.
3.0k · May 2016
her yellow dress
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
woman

you are
dazzle,

powdered
stomp of
colours,

mist dew
bright of
song,

melody
of a hum
when you
speak,

clear eyes
sparkle on
the surface,
delicate,
serene,

today you
said softly,

budge a little
in the path of  
an evening sun,
it gets into my eyes,

you shall be
the death of me,

should I be left
with words and
rhyme,

these stiff
laces of device
I call poems,

of what use
are they,

you will
not be
here,

my heart
gnaws,
twists,

caught
in perils
of desire

oh garbage
words,
you are a
beggar's
lament

be away,
let me
gaze at
her while
time benignly
spins a top,

soon it
is bound
to topple

this alphabet
string,
pearl scatter
of a necklace,

be away,
verse,

futility,

to live in
a papered
world when
loveliness
shrivels
to another
lost moment,

be away,
illusion

let me see
it as it is

her yellow
dress,

gathering
light,
her terse
shades,

her yellow
dress  

let
dreams
tarry a
little,

speckled,
hypnotized,
sunshine,  

her
yellow
dress

shall be
the death
of me
December 2014
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
three
days

among rafts
trees rivers
lakes streams
waterfalls

I walk the
fear-infested
office floors
like a king

nothing troubles
me, wade over
grim swell and
fatal seriousness

as I float on my back,
spread arms, feet,  heart,
a cloud has another helping
of an azure sky
2.8k · May 2017
may be
Snehith Kumbla May 2017
may be
we should be
standing this time

you  
a wall
and I

may be
we should be
after a shower

sipping
each other
dry of drops

may be
pretend
to sleep

then lurch
after each
other's skin

may be
start with
you on a chair

you know
it has been
a long time

days have
passed in arcs
and crosses

wicked schemes
have built
inside me

tomorrow has
an evening
to wade,
a day to
cross, twilight
to break,

may be
I will make it to the
other side of this wait,

and then tell you
how many many
other other ways
we can

may be
Explicit
2.8k · Jun 2016
rain walk, 1999
Snehith Kumbla Jun 2016
lightning vein,
drenching walk,
tea stall steam,
joy loud song,
pothole brim,
splashing talk,
bunch of friends,
evening tease,
folded jeans,
fording brand
new streams...
2.5k · May 2016
Scrap Collector's Diary
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
have sieved the
ruins of discarded
things,

sometimes finding
in an old magazine,
women looking
through you
with ageless eyes

block square keys of
a typewriter,
cardboard covers
of fragile messages,
images of shattering
glass,
empty bottles of
RAT POISON,

‘Kamasutra for beginners'
‘The lonely wife’
other clandestine
books, sometimes,
extracted from some
secret wardrobe chamber,
wrapped in brown paper

school notebooks with
red tick-marks, blots, rights,
wrongs, devastating
stories of marks, homework,
a light bulb that still works,
the legs of a chair,
toy horses, toy cars,
scratched plastic

gaping holes in mugs,
buckets, fake notes
from a crumpled game
of monopoly,
a chewed dog's collar,
a heavy rusted *****,
every night in my dreams,
they come hopping over a barn,
now you know,
that I do not count sheep
This poem was first published in the Jan-Feb 2012 issue of Reading Hour Magazine
2.5k · May 2016
Ode to 38C
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
to be
kneaded,
in squashy,
jelly ecstasy,

falling over
tumultuous,
a largess of
festivity,

woman,
not as much
as your walk,
talk or nature,

but that one
boom-rocket,
eminent, salient
feature,

lickety, suckety,
twistety, pressety,
lurety, bitety,
fever,

closety, graspety,
claspety, grabety,
clungety, playety,
severe,

twins to be
tended, a little
gorge, to lash
tongue betwixt,

to be clasped,
lurch after
each tip,
tender,

half-earths,
cast on a
potter's wheel,
sun baked,

shaped in
rain's fluidity,
winter's rigidity,
summer fire,

lover's calm,
luster's oasis,
sumptuous,
lush spread,

breeze at
a tree top,
monuments
in rhapsody...
2.5k · May 2016
cling
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
words are wasted darling,
can't add an alphabet more...  

but make o's of your lips,  
measure the girth of your hips,  
tease the buds of thy nips,  
sip honey, lick nectar,  

fork a tongue into you,  
pierce your insides,  
twist your wild hair
around me,  
bolt love,  
blindfold you,  

warm your ******* to
the incandescence
of the moon,  

nibble your ear ends,  
step away a moment,  
gaze at your island body  
your shy fluidity,  

watch you bathe
in candlelight,  
catch every
running drop
off you,  
every globule,  

wrap you up,  
unknot you,  
tie your hands together,  
feed you a smear
of chocolate,  
seat you
on a chair,  
eat off you,  

days and nights shall embrace us,  
seasons weave a cocoon,  
ice slide down our bodies  
and I shall make love to you,

and now as I utter  
these little strands
in whispers,  
I am here entwined to you,  

I promised to read out these lines  
if I ever make love to you,  

now that the words
are in communion,  
let us dearest,
bid them adieu
2.3k · May 2016
the moon in my city
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
the moon in my city,  
a hazy crestfallen hue,

those who gaze up to
its beauty, remain few...  

the moon in my city,
betrays a tired air,

wrinkled stench in
reflection, oh despair!

the moon in my city,
glides the benign sky,  

paddles a silver paddle,
bemoaning why, why, why!

the moon is my city,
but has a mother's heart,

it forgives oh so easily,
so gently does it part,

for at the break of dawn,
or on a pensive twilight,

look, there is the moon,
in eternal evasive flight!

the moon in my city,  
the moon in my city...
2.3k · May 2016
still
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
the cuckoo still sings
over the traffic smoke,
children still carve
forts by the sea,

gulmohars still bloom
over the widening road,

you could still stir early,
jog through frozen silences,
travel for an hour, still
bathe under a waterfall,

walk up a ruined hill fort,
watch the falling of meteors,

you could still save yourself,  
here in this decay and filth,
you could dig up a little earth,
and ply a little ***** on it,

feed it like a little child,  
and make a tree out of it...
Gulmohar - A tree that blooms orange flowers in summer.
2.0k · Jun 2017
liquid dream
Snehith Kumbla Jun 2017
fingers to imbibe
sculpture of a body,  
skin I will caress
drop by drop,  
cloud thy golden-
rayed spread form,

sip honey sweetness,
bee wings flapping,
steaming musk,
fireflies illumine,
on a blue valley of
an anonymous realm,
we shall alight

the words and us,
drip, globular, suckle,
kiss , ripple, river
1.9k · Jul 2017
corner seats
Snehith Kumbla Jul 2017
we take the corner seats,  
we wild animals in heat
wait for the lights to die,  
and then in one soft sigh,
run a hand over your thigh
1.9k · Jan 2018
gulmohar call
Snehith Kumbla Jan 2018
already awaiting
another summer,

in great stillness,
to spread out over

the pruned grass and
mingle with the gentle

sway of the flowering
gulmohars...
1.9k · May 2016
the office window escape
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
ahoy,
all of you,
shoppers,
loafers,
lechers,
ladies...

could you please
tie your handkerchiefs
and dupattas*
together
and all of it
to the end
of a stone
and fling it to
this open window

?
?
?

so that I
can climb
down
and flee

What?
Louder!

Yes,
I could have
just asked
the boss
but escape
makes it
so much
more alive

You
See

I
need
such
kicks
from
time
to
time
dupatta* - a traditional long cloth draped over the salwar kameez worn by Indian women..
1.8k · May 2016
fragrance
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
music of a drizzle,
wet smell of earth

a sun scattered face,
some winter morning

moonlight walks
with me, at dusk

sleep glows in
a deep cave

I dwell on you...
The poem was first published in the Sep-Oct 2011 issue of Reading Hour Magazine. This is an edited, altered version of the poem.
1.6k · May 2016
a farmer’s story
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
Didn't reap
Didn't ripen

fed it an elephant diet,
stayed guard all night,
pray-bribed the rain gods,
plotted insect genocides,
sold my wife’s bangles

Didn't reap
Didn't ripen

once where were lush fields,
now the coming of concrete

Didn't reap
Didn't ripen

the seasons are unfaithful,
there is no spring songbird

Didn't reap
Didn't ripen
1.6k · Jun 2016
cascade, season's first
Snehith Kumbla Jun 2016
a little rich
cascade
in free fall  

across stones
not yet slippery
of moss

water in
communion
with the being

a forest
sprouted
within

making
branches
of arms  

trunk
of
torso

fruit
of the
heart

now
skipping
over and on

astride
like a
creature

barefoot
over jagged
stone

a green silken
gurgle
demon sky...
1.6k · Jun 2016
electric, electric
Snehith Kumbla Jun 2016
my fingers
her bare smooth sides
a blanket spark
electric, electric  

dragon-fire
breath at my neck
luminescent veins,
electric, electric

a predatory
lunge at the lips
throb siren wail
electric, electric

then in your grasp,
gorging tightness of desire
a heady buzz,
*electric, electric
1.6k · Dec 2017
a massacre of butterflies
Snehith Kumbla Dec 2017
she grazes
the soul,
tumult in
her coming,

the pang
of proximity,
dew heavy
over exotic petal,

her absence
bullet-riddled
over umpteen
male faces,

a gnawing
melancholy,
restlessly at
high tide,  

a massacre
of butterflies,
a massacre
of butterflies,

crushed torn
powdered
ash dust
in flight  

a massacre
of butterflies,
a massacre
of butterflies,
1.5k · May 2016
craving
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
still yearn
for  waves
to wet my feet

still yearn
to reach an arm
around you

still yearn
to bluff you
to a kiss

still yearn
to walk sunshade
gardens with you

still yearn
for a wild
honey drip

the days sink
stone heavy

youth rolls up
its lush carpet

I still yearn
for you
1.5k · Jul 2017
your old song, dog
Snehith Kumbla Jul 2017
dog
all night long
dog
your old song
dog
all night long

how
your friends  
yelp
growl  howl
dog
your old song

dog
all night long
dog
mad decibel gall  
dog
your old song

dog
one pelts stone
dog
guard flings stick
dog
your old song

dog
your old song
dog
your old song
dog
all night long

run
dog
run
dog
run

early
tomo'
morn

dog
catcher
prowling

run
dog
run
dog
run

run
dog
run
dog
run
On street dogs, their liveliness and noisy spirit
1.4k · Nov 2016
duo
Snehith Kumbla Nov 2016
duo
two yellow butterflies
in the sun, entwined,
apart, chasing, diverging,
hovering hypnotic
over the first summer
bloom of the trees,

the wonder that is
travel, paving thy
own path in the air
stream, yet finding
each other,
perennially...
1.3k · Dec 2017
the night is you
Snehith Kumbla Dec 2017
the night is you,
you are the night

dark as thy tress,
deep as your eyes,

as the sea roars over
a lost bird's frantic cries,

the night is you
you are the night
1.3k · Sep 2016
while you were sleeping
Snehith Kumbla Sep 2016
while you were sleeping,
stars stepped out to dance,
trees whistled a tune with the wind,

river shimmered a firefly glow,
sheet of grass blades spread cool,
street mongrels howled a love ballad,

cat clawed a tune on the guitar,
the late Ravi Shankar plucked
divine on his ghostly sitar...

while you were sleeping,
world made a blanket of clouds,
crown of a dozen sunflowers

ii

while you were sleeping
I delved out of this dream
and finally opened my eyes,

saw illusions on angel wings,
mermaids celestially sing of
beauty's imprisoning knots,

dazed world of impossibilities,
eternal bewitchment, disparities,
all afire in new unbiased light,

it is the puzzle that binds you,
not its swab drab culmination,
a loop threading in forever land,

iii

while you were sleeping
I fled the valley, the valley
of hatred, fear, the blind,

while you were sleeping
while you were sleeping
while you were sleeping
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
even from a
distance
she wants to
make sure
that
you are
looking
at her

even if
you are
not

she
will see
to it
that her
un-plunging
neckline
is not
plunging

and

no flesh
shows
where the t-shirt
is just a bit short,

a royal hand
run through
flowing hair

when you pass her
she will say it
without say,
it is she who is
passing,
make way

then
when

she draws close,
as much as a hug
a cell phone
emerges as if
by magic
in her clasp

stares at it
unblinkingly,
places it
regally to
the ear
and before
you never
see her again
in your life
there is that
hint of a smile
hook like
at the corner
of her eyes
1.2k · May 2016
drink her in
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
drink her in,
a blue stream
vein at her wrist,
binding, unbinding
tress, thin bow of the
lips, whirlpool curls
at the ear, sea eyes,
as in her sure stride,
her sway, force of
an ebb, cutting away
at the sandbanks,
drink her in…
1.2k · Aug 2016
listen, rain
Snehith Kumbla Aug 2016
snuffed out
the TV
blare

flung
away the
cell phone

cast aside
delusions,
vexations,

switched
off the
lights

stood in
the dark
then

ear to
its heart,
rain...
1.2k · Aug 2016
waiting
Snehith Kumbla Aug 2016
waiting for an old friend,
conversation Irani tea?

waiting for a downpour,
umbrella a support stick?

waiting for a son,
whose canvas shoes he adorns?

waiting for a wife,
her obese form from the doctor's?

waiting for a street dog,
to make biscuit crumble fists?

waiting for nobody,
but tedium, a familiar habit?  

can only blunder in theories,
as I stand beside him,
waiting for somebody...
1.1k · May 2016
like animals
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
we frantic
for secretive places

a cave inlet, dim fire,
where we could claw
each other to pieces

like animals
love a distant scent,

all sweet conversation
make hunting spears
no word is meant

who preys whom
what brings us here

primitive echoes
assail our skins
habitual betrayers

ours, yours, bodies  
some lurking thirst

of centuries digs its
claws into flesh
like animals

love a distant scent...
1.1k · May 2016
first love sparks
Snehith Kumbla May 2016
eons before
puberty
set in

closer to
purity

light
years away
from sin

her name
was flame,
in the local
tongue

we were
eight, and
all she asked
me to do

was knot
up the left
shoulder
threads
of her
dress

it was
a quiet
childhood
moment

yet what
I felt then
was an
inkling
of love
probably

that hours
spent together
watching Tom
& Jerry on VHS

had culminated
to this sweet
little gesture
of innocence
1.1k · Nov 2016
colony dawn
Snehith Kumbla Nov 2016
the wayward
bat of slumber
no longer makes
trajectories of the room

dog on leash
used to it

running shoes
walking stick

first water tank
pigeon flap

water tank
squirrel squeak
overflowing

school girls
at the gate,
call out their
friend's name

a scattered,
shrill chorus

fallen hair
comma over
tattered road
1.0k · Feb 2018
the trees of Pune city
Snehith Kumbla Feb 2018
pronounced now in
their diminishing magic,

over the populous, rash,
self-destructive, tragic,

refuge for the scatter-hearted,
giant cover for the romantic,

trees for memories, smiles,
journeys, and paths nomadic
975 · Jul 2016
Legend of Chetak
Snehith Kumbla Jul 2016
so in pure
fabled fashion,
at the battle of Haldighati (1576),

Chetak, Maharana Pratap
astride, leapt across
a gaping betwixt two cliffs

and fatally injured,
died a hero,
that

400-odd years later
the Arabian steed
stands stone-cut in Jaipur,

the Maharana
urging him on
to battle,

Chetak,
all set to go
airborne...
Jaipur - A city in India.

As the legend goes...Chetak was the horse of Rajput king Maharana Pratap, one of the few rulers who resisted Mughal rule in the 16th century. The horse saved the king's life by leaping across a pass and thus evading the Mughal army. Chetak succumbed to its injuries as a result of the great jump.
966 · Jun 2016
Mathematics, Stories & I
Snehith Kumbla Jun 2016
after years of fending Mathematics,
hiding disastrous test papers as guerrilla tactics,  

lolling in the shame of discovery,  
followed by parents' sherlockian commentary,
how they came upon the dreaded documents, accidentally,  

I thank the gods who gave writers nibs, quills, ink,  
how their tales became shields,infused life in print,

these angelic saviours from Darth Vader menace,
famed rescuers from teacher disguised fiends,
dear, beloved school education, I forgive you all your sins...
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