"unalarmed" poems
I do not like it here
I do not like what we have.
Take the shovel,
here.
Pigeon-toed,
austere.
Dig deep in the earth,
big capable man.
Plunge through that dirt
until you reach the other side.
I'm
restless
as desert dust
the steps on me,
heavy.
Plant in me
the rose
and garden
the romance.
Won't you
resuscitate
the dear
in my tongue
tighten
the clutch
of these arms
soften
this face,
unalarmed
out of its casket
into a smile...
Take the shovel,
here.
You’ve been cold too.
Your body is quivering
so
dig
through
that
dirt
Dig deep in the earth,
big capable man.
Bring us both back
the last breathing rose.
But the man with the shovel
never came back...
However
I did hear he reached the other side.
Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 11:59 AM UTC
The night bows out tired; in rushes reddish new dawn
What is ahead in store for him, knows not he forlorn;
From afar a bird chimes a broken welcome note mourn
To the light that shakes up at the distant horizon!
He wipes away the cobwebs of his hung over thoughts
Sticky wet, like the last drying silent tears spots…
His bugle of duty calls; beckons to take up arms
He must put on now his myths, wear the attitude calm;
The mountain paths lie ahead await the grind of rams
Those grief laden story wheels must roll on unalarmed!
Hail the country, hail the flag! He is one in a swarm;
His feels, he must forgo; his freedom in chains unarmed…
-Kesav Venkat Easwaran-
29th October 2010
Oct 29, 2010
Oct 29, 2010 at 1:58 AM UTC
With my first words
I struck a match
Like a flick
On the zipper of a faded pair of jeans
She notices
Unalarmed
Not convinced
I bring the flame
(Flickering with ambivalence)
Up to my face
Square between my eyes
And she watches
She watches
Behind glasses of dis-concern
The gloss of her eyes
Reflecting the light
Like lies
I make a motion
As if to blow out
The flame
A whispered apology
But instead
It catches with a click
The steps that lead across
A wood-framed arch
Between my eyes and hers
Heat-soaked hands
Climbed like a ladder
Rung by rung
To the space of disbelief
Living in the “o” of her mouth
The flames race
Faster
Burning the bridge
To the ground
Nov 16, 2011
Nov 16, 2011 at 5:42 PM UTC
I think—
I think there was a man and a woman...
They were arguing.
Inside the man’s tightly curled fist
Rested a pistol
With his index finger slumbering on the trigger.
The woman,
Unalarmed, stepped forwards
Challenging the man.
He jumped in reaction,
The gun flailing along with his taut, strained arms.
The woman began to shout, when
An explosion of gunpowder
Cut open all the air
And everything went silent.
Apr 1, 2019
Apr 1, 2019 at 8:18 PM UTC