"preethi" poems
while drawing the map of India
I know of a kid who was
worried as to where was Kuzhoor
a sketch job that took just five minutes
to score three marks
misled him many a time
between the question paper and the answer sheet
he
searched for his canal, bunds and fields
here’s Varkey chettan’s tea stall
there’s the butcher shop
here cricket is played
Subramonnian temple there
Kundoor river bank here
the friends wait here
Preethi turns into the alley here
like that he marked
even after the warning bell
India wouldn't be drawn in full
Kashmir not marked at all
Translation : Rajasree
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 9:23 PM UTC
O rain,
That falls
On the green
That I love most
Let me kiss
Your tender chest
Nobody to come, or go
Alone, alone, alone,
Have to bear the heat and odors of earth
Was the world built by someone?
In it, the marks of a kiss
By me or you
Is graffiti
In Ethihad’s cabin
Your name is Mariyamma,
Mine is..
The sound of someone singing on earth
Mother might be crying
You might be singing
Or else I might be muttering about myself
There is only one place to say
Peace, peace
Your mother’s ******
Only one way to come out
To go inside, at least a thousand ways, but
All blocked
With what Ammu, Ammini and you have earned
Not as beasts,
Not as humans,
It was not father
Or mother
Who gave birth
To us as us
Someone else..
Will name a dream after you
Will name another one after you
If you miss at one, you will get it right at three
I will give my name to the third dream
A mouthful of grain is a word
There is a mouth
There is rice
When these two combine
You
Like myself,
So unbearable,
Love.
Children,
Was it the food you ate
Or the tall and hefty myself
You or me
You or me
Please take with you
The care and protection
Of this SMS
In the morning
When
Anxieties leave
As I fight like a butcher,
No,
No,
Preethi, from Maha Iranikkulam
Calls me to take a bath in the temple pond
Was it you
Or me
Or our children?
Amma,
Amma,
Amma,
Amen.
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 6:42 AM UTC
I stand in the middle of space where am bounded and hooked up by the fine threads which are though visible but cannot be unhook
I struggle with the exhaustion caused in my brain and heart making me suffocate tearing down my ray of hope- calling those threads as paternal and maternal relations!!
~preethi
Jan 3, 2021
Jan 3, 2021 at 3:45 AM UTC
Getting entrapped in this word called
LOVE..
Love itself is not something beautiful as it seems to be ! It’s a myth!
Love is just like one’s irresistible feelings towards the other things and were unable to make any distinguishing between them and called it as LOVE
~preethi
Dec 5, 2020
Dec 5, 2020 at 9:13 AM UTC
Besides the idle winter river,
And in the vacant summer days,
Under the shades of my trees
I wish , I would sit down with
The most peace in me,
I want to stand quiet
Quiet along the forest alone
while the wind shaking down the wilt leaves
the river clearing the burnt deeds of guilt,
I want to see the real reflection of my existence.
~preethi.
Nov 1, 2020
Nov 1, 2020 at 4:52 AM UTC
How it would be if I meet you again as a complete stranger ?
I would never talked about LOVE,
I would never indulge you in my feelings
I would rewrite my story just including me,
I would never have you in my dreams,.
The feeling of strangers is good,
No voids and No nulls.
.
~preethi.
May 30, 2022
May 30, 2022 at 8:35 AM UTC
In The dusky night and the starless sky of the winter day ,
The sweet fragrance of Nightqueen flowers, and the scent of the winter night ,
I move along the corner of my lane reviving the beautiful memories
There lies a world full of wonder and excitement , beyond the vision of naked eye,
There lies a world with the half acquaintance with half of bewilderment,
I fly in my darling world with the bud of hope and fragile petals
Alas! the winter breeze blew my hair bringing me back to the World of people
~preethi
Nov 4, 2020
Nov 4, 2020 at 10:37 AM UTC
What are we upto? What is this tremendous amount of time and foolish energy is upto?
When this life is such a ring
Where every step still makes
Us stand In the circle?
What is our Ill gratitude for people is upto?
What’s our bravery to complain about things?
IN THE END ALL THE THINGS ARE LOST IN THE NEGLIGENCE AND DEATH...!
~preethi
Nov 15, 2020
Nov 15, 2020 at 9:29 AM UTC