"boons" poems
1
Backwater nymph,
queen of serpentine black tresses
flaunting its coconut oil gleam;
envy of leggy girls from the Western ghat mountains,
and lissome maidens from the plains,
who can never eat as much fish, even if they wish.
Wearing hibiscus flowers,
on coiffure like hood of a king cobra,
your coral lips silently speak
of hot peppery kisses,
waiting for me at shaded corners.
Your sultry body in me arouses desires,
that could only be whispered in your ears.
2
On a coconut lagoon when we met,
for the first time and spoke,
non stop, as if we knew each other life long,
I heard music in your words.
Oh! in the tongue you spoke,
I heard the cadence of a nightingale
ecstatic, on its wings above the clouds,
love had prompted us to fly above the storms.
Your gleaming coal black eyes,
like silver hooks, tug at my heart strings,
that makes music, only I can hear,
you are a free flying lark,
above Kerala's lush coconut coast,
that extends from sea shore to the mountains.
3
**When we relished steaming brown rice,
mixed with clarified butter,
with spicy tuna curry, tasting so dainty,
cooked in bubbling sweet coconut milk,
my eyes like two crazy butterflies
circled your face, a blossomed Champak*.
Mashed cassava and roasted squid,
melted on our tongues,
in a perfect culinary language
any one would understand without effort.
4
Your lips had cinnamon scent,
spice land's boons,
when we kissed we touched heaven
of scents and spicy tastes.
When our eyes fell on each other,
near the ancient synagogue,
the hay days of which is over,
a long jasmine garland coiling your hair,
marked you different,
from the the ladies of your neighborhood,
surrounding you.
How well you did pretend
that you have never seen my face before!
You have mastered love's cunning,
and all the wily tricks to cheat
the enemies of our fiery love
my Freudian mind perfectly understood.
Just imagine the brouhaha we would invite,
when we elope, in the last boat,
to Alappuzha, stealthily at midnight.*
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 1:33 PM UTC
That's me in the picture,
A collage of brothers and sisters;
I'm held high in my Mammy's arms,
Days before leaving Ireland.
Six months later, in our new home,
On a couch in our front room,
We pose again.
(See the console in our romper room?
It's testament to our boom and boons)
There's thousands of miles between those shoots,
And four million loved ones left behind
In a life and land we won't have again.
(That's the way life was back then)
No Face Time, #MeTime,
Sometimes a landline,
But always a letter in a card at the right time.
Brothers and sisters are missing.
In neglected churchyards,
And yet my mother smiles,
All the while.
Sixty years on, we pose again,
Sharing four hundred years here,
With seven hundred left behind:
Years of Famine and Hedge Schools,
Foreign invasions and Imperial Rule.
We stand ***** shoulders touching,
Between them loved ones missing;
Gone before the shutter opened,
A partial story as pictures go.
We're Irish proud,
Some of Canada's best;
An Irish-Canadian
When laid to rest.
Jan 30, 2019
Jan 30, 2019 at 10:14 AM UTC
i might continue on with that trauma
i might subside.
violation carries with it sensate boons of empathy
blue sky overrun with thanks
arched-back breath
you're afraid to ask me
are your tears painful
but i spear your question with a surplus love
shouting joy
as if there weren't a plea
tremulously groaned
share with me
it isn't just release
sweet freedom laughing out of doors
you and she regaled in bursts
iridescent meaning
hung in curve of lock
nape and open palm
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 10:00 AM UTC
Noble stranger
Assemble these words
For the occasion
Building worlds
With my persuasion
Let's save them all
With mirth and missiles
And embrace the fall
Deuces wild, a duality
Every smile's a commodity
Turn left
Turn right
The coast is blank
My thoughts grow rank
Forgive me for this suicidal explosion
Yet I don't regret
The commotion
Seen in faces brightened by
Cloudless skies
Or in eyes
Blinded by mushroom clouds
That burned away our doubt
No clout
A gasmask and a nuclear sword
But it's not a word
Or a bullet
It's the action that kills
And the smoke that fills
Our lungs
Bulging through the spaces
Between our rib rungs:
The stepping stones to
Hearts waiting to be
Healed.
From dried blood
Long congealed
Picked off
Like the scabs that sealed
Summers wounds
Gathered together
And reaped from harvest boons
Glimmering
Underneath the convalescent moons
Struggling
With the twisted fate
They've to endure...
But the crowd stands
Demure.
May 18, 2012
May 18, 2012 at 8:14 PM UTC
Hear this beloved river, in halcyon days
I was loyal to this majestic tree, I am attached,
to the sun I often spoke how loving
the tree is to me, and how eager I too am
to transfer sun's boons to my object of adoration.
Each season did visit us, with a message
different, and I gathered this with joy:
The tree is a book of nature for all to read
and get exhilarated by the poems colorful
that speak in metaphors the tree invent
with water from it's heart and sun's fire
working the magic only a tree is capable of
to show us as flowers, fruits or seeds that, attract
satiate, drive to the pinnacle of aesthetic delight
at times create forests of future,with a vision too.
I am just a word, with a limited meaning I hold,
in the book of the tree ,that contains millions like me
my unconditional love to the tree is my fulfillment,
in return he loves every word that make his poem complete.
We were in love all through the time I was green,
the day I wore yellow, got crinkled at the ends,I began
to think of you, river, with a devotion unknown until then,
though you a silver ribbon, was in my eye view , singing a song
of mirth flowing towards the unknown, imagined in our dreams
Our lives, at turns take directions that are not known
the tree once all I have is now from my world detached
flying down from the branch now a freedom I enjoy
receive me on your bellowing bed of water, comfortable
Let's flow together to the beloved destination,you've in mind.
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 11:01 AM UTC
When I consider, pro and con,
What things my love is built upon--
A curly mouth; a sinewed wrist;
A questioning brow; a pretty twist
Of words as old and tried as sin;
A pointed ear; a cloven chin;
Long, tapered limbs; and slanted eyes
Not cold nor kind nor darkly wise--
When so I ponder, here apart,
What shallow boons suffice my heart,
What dust-bound trivia capture me,
I marvel at my normalcy.
1.4k
Moment of happiness
And struggle of life,
Liveliness of new born
And Gloominess of death...
Beauty of woman
And boons and curses she bear,
Strength of man
And generosity he must show...
Wheels of time
And the never ending motion,
Life full of promises
And promises we fulfil...
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 8:32 PM UTC
seeds sit in
this swollen
belly like snowflakes
individuating fire.
traceries of flame.
sprouting extended
families.
the pregnant glow
of our Mother carrying
us.
blue as boons conferred
to what defines her
dark outline.
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 1:51 AM UTC
Soul winning has limitless boons;
The Shepherd's welcoming glee:
To seek after the gone-astray sheep
And lead them to the fold of mercy.
He who converts a sinner to Christ
Reduces in this world crime and evil;
For they are creatures new who have
Been born again and deserted the devil,
Seeing for sweet sin the flesh yearns:
To be fed often with delightful iniquity.
By good deeds can no man be saved,
But by the blessed grace of Calvary.
Here, beneath the glittering sun--
The *wise shall inherit glad glory.
And there, beyond the shifting clouds--
They'll be relishing with Jesus eternally.
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 4:32 AM UTC
The leaking beauty such as rebirthed life
And of the muddy earth slowly reclaimed
Persephone’s return, a dance of strife
Returning vividness, again, unmaimed
Escaping the monochromatic cell
By return of green, such luscious pigment
By Flora’s grace and by the Shepherd's bell
Revive events long free of merriment
The songbirds relearn their forgotten tunes
The bees prepare to collect flowered boons
Hibernation ending, returns routine
With warmth radiating, freely flowing
Crawling from thy shallow cave, sunlight seen
Flecked through dewdrops caught in Spider’s sewing
A land of new dawns, forgiving thieves
The fruit yet unblossomed, life is still ripe
The tree naked, still missing its leaves
Coverings absent before the first gripe
The animals hunger to end their fast
Humans hunger to remember the past
Come, serenity destroying pigment
Rend the ebony earth delicately
Spread your lovely, inebriating scent
And thus, set every fashion of life free
Free from that immaculate white prison
Free to frolic in fresh fields, unrestrained
The sun, in more wakefulness, risen
To maintain, nature’s mischievous work reined
In preparation for the coming time
The time of heat, growth, and color sublime
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 9:43 PM UTC
Strolling in these crowded streets
Wandering through memories
The tune of love within
Subdues all those without
Angst filled void around
Unmindful pain – baffling and novel
See that familiar face around – no surprise
People are but objects reflecting the mind
Unbeknownst – love struck me
And now I am clearly unsure
What joy, what pain – what more?
They say its fatal – but its poetry obscure.
The emotional dissonance – is that right?
A void that is tediously strong
How do I speak my mind – confess the love
I fear end would win me over, before long.
Gap – the gap – this gap between…
Would cocoon worlds' entirety
The gap between the lips, longer still
If sealed, once sealed – chime unity
I could sing ballads of love
But I am a lifetime shy to be a poet
I speak my plight in vain hope
Of being one – with you, just for a moment
Virtues will be restored
And boons have been bestowed
If the night unfolds with you beside me,
- My man of gold
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 8:33 AM UTC
Sitting, dull, fingers fixated
Shadow covers shimmering screen
All feelings subsided or degraded
Our choices made have their meanings faded
We are not following our shallow dreams
In the hollow, our greyscale souls scream
What is this phenomenon?
Soullessness in lack of love
Or enlightenment in lack of light?
Dissonance attracts to me
Pieces fall like grey floating dust
Darkness calls in on an autumn dusk
Boons beneath our silence
And silent thunder
What decadence lies, so deep
Beneath a white sky?
How do I repair myself from under?
And hear clear my love’s calling?
When my eyes have been torn asunder
I cannot bear to make myself die
I keep switching from ditch to ditch
No man’s land is lost without light
The mist forming atop my mind
No longer blind me from sight!
Not without my heart’s light
To put up a valiant fight
In the highest of harmony
I shall let my soul take flight…
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC
at least one shooting every week
congress & president mild and meek
whatever they might do or say
no blame goes to the NRA
that keeps abusing the 2nd amendment
who needs militias today?!
and thanks to that ****** arrangement
more students weekly fall prey
to psychopaths in our states
whose weapons open the gates
to free indiscriminate killing
thanks to our politicians unwilling
to forego all the boons
they receive from their insane tycoons
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 6:12 PM UTC
i look up from my porcelain throne
in the fifth point cafe 42 minutes before the am’s fifth point
crown all whimsy-eyed and thrown
and see "the end is near"
so i think to myself
“me oh my oh golly geez
whatever
will i do in sight of these”
the ends
of the tp roll, that is
i look up from my pew
and there’s too much **** on the ceiling for one sheet
i stammer
then i realize, that’s not a ceiling,
that’s the sky
and that isn’t ****
those are scars
scatting stars
scattering
i stammer, “fuck-it”
what am i worried about, one last sheet
those chronos blast-holes
they’ll wipe themselves out
heat death infinity splitters and all that such sigh-fanciful nonsense
and so cheers, to life
the ends
to that which must overcome itself
to the earth, "good night-boons"
to the sky, "good night, moon"
i blink once more and
“sea-ya, night-time crouch-joys“
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 5:54 PM UTC
Oh maiden of white,
Don in veil and dress, black as night,
Your voice projects dark tones,
To calm the cries of bright halos.
Oh maiden of white,
You dance under the moonlight,
Your shadow hides the truth,
To expose the lies of the world's boons.
Oh knight of light,
Clad in gear and mail, your face out of sight,
Your bravery showers the evil,
To show your smiles of good will.
Oh knight of light,
You cut through your foes with might,
Giving out an outstretched hand,
To turn every person into your friend.
Oh maiden and knight of white light,
Together you hold hands and fight,
To show the world, light in darkness,
While loving one another relentless.
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 6:28 PM UTC
A LETTER TO MY FIRST CRUSH
My Dearest Kevin
My hands shake nervously as I write this letter
the ink made heart-shapes
resembling pieces of my heart as it reach out to you
I just want you to know that loving you isn’t easy
My dozen of Harlequins and my entire Mills @ Boons
collection of books
Haven't prepared me enough
To deal with a player like you
I heard it through the grapevine,
That you are heartbreaker, and a womanizer
With only one thing on your adolescence mind
My grandmother always told me, that
Why buy the cow, when you can get the milk for free
My grandma is a wise woman
More like a heroine in my eyes
I am the heroine of my life
More like a Nancy Drew
Without a clue
I am never satisfied I am curious
And mysterious
However I am very chary
Kind of gal
^
I do believe that
I am in love with you today
However,
I might hate you tomorrow
Because you never know with a secret admirer
To the man I love today
They are nothing more than I can say.
I will wait for your reply my love
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
Come with me, I’ll show you where
The wonders sparkle beguiling blessings
Arousing perceptions of gratitude innate
To heedless humans in lack of deceptions.
Irrefutable eternal verities unfolding
Elegantly before disallowing eyes
On the expanding canvas made of space
Moulding elements of plasmatic grace.
Wind back the hands of time with me to witness
The emergence of the first and most abundant substance,
Hydrogen out of recombination epoch
Finely orchestrated by physical laws to form and fuse in stars.
Stellar nucleosynthesis where nuclear reactions
Are boons in disguise for new combinations
To bear lithium, carbon, neon, oxygen, iron,
The entirety of the essentials on the periodic table.
Indulge with me in the mesmerising marvel
Of watching those incandescent stars go supernova,
Their shock wave thrusting silver and golden nuggets
Throughout infinity creating planets.
Now return to Earth with me and look around,
At the stars’ debris under your feet, feel the ground.
Take this glass of water, a cocktail of hydrogen
And oxygen, breath in! Gaze at all that exists.
Stare at yourself, made of trillions of cells,
Nourish the awareness that you are part
Of the bewildering opus yearning for you
To live your life and honour with consciousness
The wonders sparkling beguiling blessings.
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 5:22 AM UTC
And tell you I shall...
Of boundaries I wish not to speak
for all boundaries are sins
sins committed against one's potential.
Of rules I can tell tales
concerned with scrutiny
and enamored with safety
your ancestors placed them
where you now find them.
Tales span eons
tales spawn demons
tales scrawl boons
and tomes
and epitomes
On the present
and the way things are,
could have been
or would have been.
Many a scholar and clerk lay martyred or maimed
It is a dreadful subject my friend
for it bends the very fabric of humanity
and within its confines, no room exists for morality
and under its hood burns all reality.
On God.... Well God is and isn't
any continuation of the previous fragment would be a lie
as I know not what God is or isn't, only that God exisits.
Jun 21, 2010
Jun 21, 2010 at 12:35 AM UTC
Almost died but this time I didn’t
the pain of an artistic with an academic life
being bound by wonton grasping
don’t even seem to know who or what I’m asking
Got so lost again when a guide mentioned in passing
Theres a fork in the road up ahead
no choice is still a choice maybe end up dead
Always walk the darkest path until
i remembered the angel and made up my choice
pull myself up like I hoist
out the words when I’m verging on verbing in Voice.
Seen demons, I hear hell, Headache of pride make ya head swell
been sick as hell/ oh well
stuck at the bottom molding
unseen granting boons
in the moon-lit wishing well
But I ought to see my life as odyssey
like I oughtt to be the hero
more playful like the spirit
otter i otter be
Im stuck in feedback loop self
but the emerging, unfolding, ever so bold in its calling
states plainly that it is time to fall down shaking
cascading blood caking memory set
wrong or at least oblong in it’s making
moments
seem to make me lose my voice
so how can I preach
if I m not acting
how can I teach
If my arms ain’t out
mama how can I reach?
Wishing the earth calls me
yelling come back my child
Rest in my arms and forget
I am death living memory leech.
╭∩╮(Ο_Ο)╭∩╮
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 12:28 PM UTC
shared intimacies and a lonesome whisper
love that blooms and withers on cue
where no one is just your own
every moment shared with a select few
all travellers converge at one port
no one owns it, no one can claim to
his was a journey so defiant
he crossed the desert to arrive
another one swam across oceans
yet another bled his heart out
all converge at the mecca of their calling
and pray for the boons to be bestowed
It was long ago, but still it seems fresh
the blood is still hot as it was in veins
imagination riots in unimaginable directions
each one reason for his own misery
like the strings plucked in harmony
they weep the music of their souls
no other tribute will do
no other sacrifice will register
Feb 12, 2010
Feb 12, 2010 at 3:07 AM UTC
That Ladies compound such Prime Beauty's Field
As Aramaic known one Pure Language be
So would I jest to your Harmless Conceal
And Mark our Saviour with such Blasphemy
Yet through His Cross beg this Honourable Save
Though by the Wheel my Allegiance despite
His Universal Hand; Blow kisses to your knave
Then her Just Hugs cause Rebellion incite
And now? If that Editor shall you Heed
And ferment every Nuggish Word he writes
Would we say ****** As Osama indeed
Laughed his Grand Project of Onerous Sprites.
Still my Heart plants; Yet blast those Berry-Boons
Too seeded for my Taste though fit for Raccoons.
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 4:38 AM UTC
Alone under starlit sky
mulling boons of miseries'
convoluted manipulations
*when suddenly she runs by
in gladness leaping high*
I her secret laughing witness:
*Clearly joy is more direct
if happy is desired effect*
Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 8:10 AM UTC
from the rust,red soil,
the nastursiums come.
first as tendrils, spiderlike
then, the little, disc umbrella leaves.
green and expectant,
in the sub-tropical,
late,winter sun.
and soon the riotous ladies,
come with skirts of colours
bold and joyous
resplendent in the party wear
then, they will run and skip
in rampant dance,
over rocks, tree stumps
climbing up the old fence.
with pepper in their tongues
and cheerful smiles.
they are one of summer's, most happy boons...
and soon and soon,
they come,
from the rust red soil
they come...
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 6:28 PM UTC
Bygones will be Bygones
and their baggage shall beg
to plow again.
Between the gains and confines
of the wrestled soul,
resinous,
behind his silver buttons
and navy knitted nylon
beneath it grey,
cunningly,
breathes the pain
of his flourishing.
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 7:02 PM UTC