"koel" poems
O MY LOVE, COME WITH ME,
LET’S CLIMB THE MANGO TREE,
ITS GOLDEN FRUITS ARE RIPE,
FULL OF SWEET MEMORY,
LET ME LIFT YOU GENTLY,
TILL YOUR HANDS GET A HOLD,
THIS WARM ZEPHYR HAS MADE ME,
SO STRONG AND SO BOLD,
LET US CLIMB WITHOUT SCRATCHING
YOUR FLAWLESS IVORY SKIN,
MY LOVE WILL GUIDE YOU THROUGH
BRANCHES THICK AND THIN,
YOUR RAVEN HAIR CASCADING ON
TO YOUR NECK SO SLENDER,
SHINY NEW LEAVES OF THE MANGO,
SO DELICATE, AND SO TENDER,
SIT CLOSE TO ME ON A LOFTY BRANCH
TO HEAR THE SOULFUL KOEL SING,
LET'S SWAY WITH THE BREEZE
LIKE SOULS ON A SILKEN STRING,
MY HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDER
YOUR LOVELY FACE SO CLOSE,
SUN BEAMS DANCE ON YOUR LASHES
MY PRECIOUS VELVET ROSE,
YOUR FRAIL HANDS ENCIRCLE ME
LIKE CREEPERS HUGGING THE BOUGH,
YOUR WARM EMBRACE ENTHRALLS ME
TO KISS YOUR SHAPELY BROW,
YOUR SWEET FRAGRANCE INTOXICATES
AND AMONG THE CLOUDS I FLOAT,
LIKE A BUTTERFLY EMERGING FROM
A CATERPILLAR’S UGLY COAT,
WE SIT THERE FOR A LONG TIME
SUSPENDED IN SPACE,
I AM BUT A CONTENT SLAVE
TO YOUR HEAVENLY GRACE
LET MY LIPS LINGER ON
YOUR SOFT PETALS SOME MORE,
TILL I ETCH IN MY MIND,
EVERY BIT OF YOU TO THE CORE,
OH MANGO TREE WE NESTLE
IN YOUR MASSIVE ARMS,
LOST IN THE MYRIAD MISTS
OF ONE ANOTHERS CHARMS,
WHEN OUR YEARS ARE GONE ONE DAY
WHEN WE ARE AGED AND SPENT,
UNDER THIS GREAT MANGO TREE,
WE SHALL PITCH OUR FINAL TENT,
UNDER ITS VAST CANOPY WE SHALL LIE
LOOKING AT THE STARS,
OUR BONY FINGERS ACHING YET
TENDING TO OUR SCARS,
MY MIND’S EYE SEES YOUR WRINKLED FACE
SMOOTH WITH AN INNER GLOW,
SOFT AND BEAUTIFUL AS EVER IT WAS,
AND YOUR LOVELY DARK HAIR FLOW
YOUR FLESH AGAINST MINE
FEELS JUST AS YOUNG AND WARM,
OUR HEART BEATS MERGE
LIKE BEES FLYING IN THE SWARM
COLD TOMBS ARE NOT FOR US
NEITHER MARBLE NOR GRANITE,
UNDER THE LIVING MANGO TREE
FOREVER WE SHALL UNITE
OH MY LOVE, COME WITH ME,
LET’S CLIMB THE MANGO TREE,
YOU ARE LIKE ITS GOLDEN FRUIT,
AND FOREVER YOU WILL BE.
Dec 26, 2011
Dec 26, 2011 at 2:29 AM UTC
In the morning I heard the Koel’s melodious call
It is a sure sign of Sneaking autumn’s fall
What a striking difference between winter and spring
It is undoubtedly season’s eternal king
I love nature’s green saree
She smiles with an uncontrollable spree
Her saree is full of beautiful flowers
there are very many different colours
Nature’s Bindi is the glorious sun
Her hair pin is the shining moon
She cools herself with her natural fan
Her stay here might be of a little span
She sits with an yellow sarree in the palanquin
The bride groom looks at her as if she were a queen
Her beauty and shyness is her divine pride
She is a newly married mesmerizing bride
the villages are replete with ripe corn
All the birds enjoy this beautiful morn
Mar 25, 2011
Mar 25, 2011 at 6:05 AM UTC
Arise! Oh Heart, from the catacombs of the dead
Shake off the dust, for Life beckons you like a buddy
Peel off the weariness that wraps you like a shroud
And walk to the open to perceive the light.
Arise! Oh Heart, from the dungeons of gloom
The dawn is at your door step, waiting to break
Sing with the koel, merrily warbling in the woods
Dance with the billows, wildly prancing on the deep.
Arise! Oh Heart, from the ghettoes of *******
Break loose the ropes that moor you to the past
Dart through the panorama of the cerulean blue
And fly high into regions, uncharted and new.
Arise! Oh Heart, from the citadels of hate
Listen not to the shrieking and howling behind
Drink from the goblet of conciliating love
And rejoice at the birth of a dawn with promises galore!
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 8:28 AM UTC
Gold may flow in rivers for all I care.
In the dusty song of the koel,
In the humid and bustling, cheerful bazaars,
In the warm sunshine in the eyes of my people when the rain wipes the ashes off the lenses after another season of fire,
Where everyday is a new storm, perhaps a new rainbow,
In the welcoming, sweat-stained soils,
My footsteps shall always wander...
The rabbit on the moon smiles.
~Wordsmith
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 2:49 PM UTC
Well before the commencement of the spring
The British cuckoo or the Indian koel starts singing
With its sweet and natural melody
Some fools and children try to make a parody
It does not care somebody is listening
Or some others enjoying its singing
Or some fools and children start mocking
It goes on singing and singing in response to the mocking
Some fools think the koel suffer from some mania
but the fools suffer from xenophobia
They don’t like any thing new or sweet
And are not ready to give their hearty treat
They suffer from their foolish pride
and which they can never hide
You can’t become great by mocking at a cuckoo
It betrays your inner sick view
Among the seasons undoubtedly spring is the king
The melodious cuckoo or koel invariably does sing
Mar 18, 2011
Mar 18, 2011 at 12:32 AM UTC
She is a succulent bunch,let me be helpful,
if you don't get the complex chemical scent,
I call her ,"a girl of unpredictable
meeting places"inotropic, is her effect,
She sends heartbeats way up.
Delectable too, she was, every time
I tasted certain parts of her.
Her avatars are numerous, like Hindu Gods
With specific intention for each incarnation
Onee will be pushed in to neurosis,
if doesn't completely relish her infinite variety.
She is a cryptic mystic,
for a while from signals
I discerned and firmly believed
Or is she just a creature mysterious
Doubt raises it's head, like a lotus
From slushy pond
My eyes met her at the level of her eyes first,
the rest in a haze to me was invisible,
Then my heart sends a message
"Right now, I missed a beat here"
Heart then recites a poem,
tells me, it is all her making
"Don't fall in love" heart's advice,
"Go, dissolve in her completely"
Even my own heart has crossed sides,
or is it truly an advice for my sake?
Love is a hallucinogen, get it?
she whistles like wind at bamboo groves
from within sings like a thrush,
she is a magpie, or is she a koel?
Nocturnal animal, in need of mating,
making calls, frantic SMS, incessant.
She is wind and water, elements
that make one burn and drown
She spreads her yoga mat on the floor,
asks me to sit cross legged Indian style,
I am already for that in my mind,
So I spread eagle in corpse pose, indicating, "All through my life", mother earth gives me warmth.
Shanti, Shanti, shanti
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 7:45 AM UTC
Stay well, table, inviting me
to sit by your side, sipping tea,
stay warm, books, wrapped warm
in your covers, steeped in Spirit,
stay well, koel, sing the same way
every stuttering morning that
comes lisping in the winds
and the tongues of the swallows
stay well, gulmohar, ever
alive in a glow of blooms
warming bare the summer heart
stay well, pens, ever meditating
this way, conjuring up
all the stories I tell in verse
stay well, my droid phone,
go on, recharge yourself in your
morning asana tied to the mains
stay well, web, where I plug in
and broadcast my thoughts
and receive blessings and grace
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 10:32 PM UTC
If trees be poems by the earth
In avid joy I read each one
Florets writ in fragrant verse
Inked with beams of the morning sun
In shade, a fruit, a whiff of air
I rest beneath wide branches spread
A cavort of emerald canopy
Bestows comfort upon my breath
I lean against the bark, recline
And think of how it stands in time
Through tunneled years it's stoic trunk
Stands proud against frost and rain
Drops it's leaves to nakedness
Till spring dresses in green again
On but an arm, the koel sings
'Tis home to birds that weave a nest
Haven to sojourners ache
Clasp around, hold close to breast
I trace the names of love engraved
Now forgot; asleep in graves
On felled bark my soul I pen
On papyrus the past I feel
The murmured songs of sentiments
In susurrus as branches kneel.
Nymphs would hide or fairies entreat
With fireflies in silver light
Creatures tip toe on their feet
Lithe, in the darkness of the night
In engraved lines meaning I see
What better song, what poetree?
Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky - Gibran
Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 9:38 AM UTC
It used to live on the hilltop
where a lone bell tolled
by the temple:
but the Deity is long gone
and the bell mourns
in the valley wind on empty
afternoons, now.
I went searching for it:
in late summer, the koel
would sunder open the vaults
of heaven and bring
some down for us mortals
haunted by death.
The koels are long gone now.
Peace,
peace.
Lady siting silent in the evening
staring vacant into the sky,
after a day of labour:
can you give some to me?
I thought it was in education.
But that is stored now, in
almirahs where moths
eat way what humidity cannot.
I thought it was in a position.
But they don't matter, now
a ladder ascending
to nowhere,
vanishing mid-air.
Old man, smiling past hope
that has broken like
your lost teeth:
can you give some to me?
I asked the urchin
playing in the ditch after the rains,
he said: 'follow me, I know where
it lives', and he led me to
a ***** pond lined with plastic
and all our civilization's refuse,
and jumped in.
I returned, disgusted.
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 1:07 PM UTC
There are three important stages
in the life of a man or woman.
Birth, marriage and death.
We do not know about our birth and death
But we enjoy and celebrate our marriage
It may be celebrated in different ways
in different cultures across the globe.
It brings happiness and joy not only
to the bride and the bridegroom
but everybody sitting in the betrothal room
A man and a woman become perfect
only after marriage in any age
The bride sits like a queen
in the Indian palanquin
And the bride groom waits for her
like the spring for the koel.
Marriage is not only to unite two bodies
but to ignite two souls.
The happiest occasion for a woman
or a man is when ***** becomes
a mother and a father.
when the child plays with a toy
the father gets inexpressible joy
and the mother feels like the HELEN OF TROY
Mar 20, 2011
Mar 20, 2011 at 8:18 AM UTC
Now orchids are blooming here,
Sun rises by the call of ‘Koel’!
Sun beam around by the call of ‘Keteki’!
Everywhere fragrance of ‘Keteki flower’ spread out!
It is the time of blossoming!
It is the time of celebration!
A gala for......
“Merriment of brotherhood,
Gaiety of collectively
High spirited choir with nature!”
People are celebrating spring..
Dancing under the Banyan tree
On the mid of the farmyard;
Biting the drum with a wish
The Sounds go to sky and break the clouds
Thunder and rain follows.....
With promises
To watering the crops in summer;
People call it
“Madam ‘Bordoi-chila’ coming to her mother’s place!
Everyone venerate
For nature and season!
They pray to nature
Though their amiable laughs and ovation
Showcasing gaiety of connectivity and togetherness
With a wish for nature’s blessing for production!
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 8:46 AM UTC
A drum beat. A distance.
Breaking out of her veils,
a tender morning.
Hum of the winds.
Hanging roots of the banyan.
Emerging out of mists.
After many lives perhaps
a meeting.
I closed all doors and windows
and lie listening to the tired fan.
You have found your way in,
smiling in the leaves
past the grill,
shadowed on the ceiling.
Oh this feeling. That can light
two hearts. To know this,
to know this.
The roots are hanging strong.
Upside down.
Tugging at the heart, the
solitary song
of the early koel.
Mists un-heeding,
sometimes succeeding.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 9:55 AM UTC
Dust gathers everywhere.
Only a swab on the windscreen is clear
on my dust-laden car.
Too tight to wear,
the ring
vibrates vigorously on the washing machine.
The cycle is ending. Intensity waxing.
A song of the solitary koel
serenades a reverie.
I open the screen from inside.
You, the windows from the outside.
Glances exchanged from either side.
It is the time of the late flower.
A drop, even a drop of hot water,
the skin craves for a touch.
In partings, a beginning.
In still winds, all the leaves silent.
Peace comes visiting, a migratory bird
and sits sagely by the bare stalks,
in a hurry to reach
far off lands beyond the seas.
You only get a moment: a moment
when the world freezes.
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 1:16 PM UTC
So word ons wakker in ons tent en dit reen...aggenee!! Maar dis koel en ons voel gelukkig.
Ek is vuil, so amper dat ek wil huil, maar huil van lekker soos n krekker want dis vakansie tyd!!
My hare is so waar deur mekaar, maar wat maak dit saak want niks gaan my keer om vir n gogga te wys *** deur mekaar ek rerig kan weesie...
Tanne geborsel en room half gesmeer, laat die dag begin want dis ons en ons ford bakkie die keer...alweer...
Kies n rigting en so voeter ons daarin...
Saans kom ons by die kamp moeg geploeg die bosse in om nou rustig te raak met n koeldrank in ons hand.
Dan word n vuurtjie gemaak deur die braafste ou ini land om n vleisie te braai vir die fraaiste meisie, hand aan hand.
Mens voel gou dankbaar vir klein dingetjies soos n stort... n warme een, die oop velde of selfs die digte bosse, die veld blommetjies so geel of die gras so lank en groen, die voels so mooi volle kleurrig en die jakkals so skaam maar nuuskirig.
En wanneer dit donker word le daar baie voor soos die uile se geluide, die sonbesies wat hulle vlerkies saam klap of dalk n hihena wat na oorskied kom krap.
So geniet ons die bos vol avontuur gepos net vir ons en ons se dankie aan ons Skepper vir n skepping net vir ons. 2016/03/14
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 1:32 AM UTC
#*The sun, handsome in a blazing golden striped suit
The birds and busy bees sip on the nectar from the colourful flowers
The trees sway to the sweet song of the breeze
The Koel happy and gay, sings its sweet song in May
But,
My eyes wait for a glimpse of the elusive bird
Know not its form or feathers, hidden in the trees
Sings a rhythmic sweet song from dawn to dusk*#
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 10:42 AM UTC
In the musings of the dark Koel
That perches upon the winding bough
The sun that flushes from the east
Upon the earth's curving brow
In leaves that bend across to brush
The fruit of life that time bears,
The carnation's awakened blush
In the unseen breath of morning air
In swirls of clouds that float across
A placid sky of limpid blue
The ripples on the lake embossed
With dancing drops of sunlit dew
I know His chants, sense His thoughts
I hear hymns of divinity
I see His hand, I feel His touch
Midst echoes of eternity
Aug 4, 2017
Aug 4, 2017 at 10:05 AM UTC
Koel’s song merges with
Musky scent of mango bloom;
My heart lunges up!
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 8:52 AM UTC
Four flowers bloomed this morning at the horizon
and the world is drenched wet in tears the skies
wept for joy, maiden of the dawns, I saw you pluck
stars for your basket of prayers before the hours
and now you are gone, past the windswept edges.
I see your presence that has filled the peals of light
peering into my chamber this hour before deed.
Sombre noons when the koel cries for her beloved
I hear your footsteps jingle in the distant wood.
When the lamps of longing are lit at dusk, send
rains that soothe the valleys and the winds that
caress the river weeping for the sorrow of loss.
Deep in the nights, your silences more sonant
than the footfalls that waken the grazing deer.
I saw your smile behind the untended fires
in the heart of the cavern, but I did not hurry.
And now I hear myself echoing in the quarters.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 1:03 AM UTC
Daar is n lieflike gevoel in die wind.
n Gevoel wat bind, n gevoel wat sink, sink diep in n mens se hart in.
Hy praat met n mens soos n boek, n bladsy wat vertel van die Goddelike wind...
So gaan die pad voor mens oop en raak gou vol hoop van goeie dinge wat voorle.
En so verlang mens dan na iemand, iemand ver, ver weg en seg in jou hart:
“Die lewe is soos die wind, die Goddelike wind wat verbind van een hart na n ander”.
Want die waai deur mens se hare, die gevoel van koel, maar warm teen mens se wange en die verwaai van gras op plaas paaie is wat ek noem die Goddelike wind, wat bind… van een hart na n ander. 2016/01/21
Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 1:38 AM UTC
A cold winter noon
Perched atop a new ruin,
Toothpick stirring a remix bhajan,
Rocking in a lame chair, there I am.
Taking in the sun,
Thinking of the world, the poor
And sipping on my ***
‘’Ayele kanda, batata’’
Ah, there goes my line.
Why doesn’t the idiot shut up?
We can’t anymore buy onion and potato.
A lonely koel perches on the antenna
Clears its throat and tries to sing,
Hoot! Out of my sight you noisy thing.
Give me peace and let me think.
One more sip, the line comes again,
The down trodden!
A girl of sixteen was ***** and killed.
Who will punish the bustards? Such a shame.
A mother of two violated,
Shorn and paraded naked.
Served her right, the five magi hissed
Her threadbare boy shouldn’t a Brahmin have kissed!
The stocks went down; the Taj has gone brown,
Down with the rightists, down with the leftists,
Down with the middle-east, down with the Pakis,
And the Chinese, a foreign hand, don’t you see?
Rocking in the lame chair,
Taking in the sun,
Thinking of the world
And sipping on my ***
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 11:29 AM UTC
**Beauty around
Peace I've found
Spring at its best
An all new zest
Oh life...
I am falling in love with you
Colors sprinkled
Artistically mingled
Heart merrily sings
Mood's upward swings
Oh life...
I am falling in love with you
The glacier of frozen desire
Melting in solar fire
The warmth is soothing
The tenderness oozing
Oh life...
I am falling in love with you
Bumblebees are humming
Right on the buds, chumming
The rivers are calm
Nature plays a balm
Oh life...
I am falling in love with you
Koel birds are singing
On the branch of Palash, swinging
The heart plays encore
For love opens it's door
Oh life...
I am falling in love with you**
Jan 22, 2018
Jan 22, 2018 at 10:45 PM UTC
An evening comes wading through the clouds
crimson the feet wet in mists unfurling
silences whisper hushed in shadows and leafless
stalks, tangled hair, moist in the mellow winds
foreboding the hour when minnows sleep
it will rain tonight
soft on the lotus ponds
landing by the dancing canvas leaves
painted in hues of cream-white
birthing buds of pink
smiling shy
robed in the regal hues of the moon
blushing behind the mourning palms
painted against the skies
solemn
whirling, whirling like a dervish
it is the hymn of the skies
it is the early moon
it is the late koel
the pond overflowing
in longing
I will swoon rhapsodizing
Saying your name in syllables
whirling, I rise levitating
You are there in the distance
You are here by my side
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 11:37 PM UTC
In faint edge find a light breeze
cutting through the koel’s song,
bustle of cars in amongst trees
as thunder rebounds in among.
To mesh of blue and grey skies
confining as a hand knitted top,
lightning fizz in zipped disguise
street crowds shelters if shops.
Between vast European brands
add upon best Asia can supply,
there are centres more strands
for miles as if the crows did fly..
Porsches racing Lambos speed
noisily down a one way avenue,
passing small trucks soon freed
are carrying tens to open view.
While clouds clear in moments
now the people walking return,
a sun bold is drying pavements
once more tourists parts burn.
Resting in hidden on a branch
koel’s continue a pitch refining,
another nest to join to tranche
their calls, Singapore defining.
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 2:26 AM UTC
Season of colour, buds and blooms.
Lovely roses, grass with large plumes.
Hiding high on some tree koel* sings.
How badly I wished for thousand springs.
Large blooming tree, shrubs and climber.
Busy bees fly briskly from flower to flower.
Numerous butterflies with colorful wings.
How badly I wished for thousand springs.
Yellow mustard flowers below skies blue.
Entire flora covered with tiny drops of dew.
Sweet fragrance gentle breeze brings.
How badly I wished for thousand springs.
Far from reality, wishes are just wishes.
It can vanish with gust of wind like ashes.
My fragile soul is covered from top to bottom.
Now sadly I am abode for thousand autumns.
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
on that lonely tree
a koel sings koi...koi...koi...koi
starlit winter sky
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 1:51 AM UTC