കൊഴിയുന്ന ഇലയെ യാത്രയാക്കാൻ
വർഷം തോറും ശരത്കാലം എത്താറുണ്ടായിരുന്നു
അതുകൊണ്ടു തന്നെ ശരത്കാലം എത്താതെ
യാത്ര തുടങ്ങാനാവില്ലെന്നു അവളും
സമയത്തിനെത്തിയില്ലെങ്കിൽ അവളെ
യാത്ര അയക്കാനാവില്ലെന്നു ശരത് കാലവും വിശ്വസിച്ചു…
ശരത്കാലം
My Grande Dame
I never felt my legs since six,
And ever loved my lake since then
My boat was my cradle
And my lake was my Grande Dame.
Scent of milk
Any fresh day when she sees me
there is a smiling moon floating
in her deep calm eyes.
Sonnet to SPB
You are the sweet mist in my labyrinth
The feast of gooseberry to sweet stream
The letter from the moon to Macbeth
The taste of blueberry with a wild scream
The Secluded Silences.
Temptations are wings
And addiction, the sky.
Ever roosting bats
Never ending hunts in dark
Cloak of Solitude
When her eyes are blank and cold
When there are no ripples of warmth
When they are like a frozen brook in a new moon night
When they look at me still perceive no image
Unsolved Problem
I believe, we all have
one unsolved problem in life.
For a few, that may be a secret
which hides like a grenade in the pocket
Three Dots…
Three dots … were left wounded
awaiting the ‘inevitable sound of death’.
Till recently these three dots … were our lifeblood
Now see, the poor dots are bleeding to death. Continue reading “Three Dots…”
I Have You Only…
When my quaver meets
a premature death in my throat
When I curl up like a Chartreux
I have you only
Coffee Bean
Kabini* was carrying the coracle** and me
like a phlegmatic old man who carries a Palanquin
and I saw you floating towards me
sitting on a banyan tree leaf
covered in red thin skin and sweet pulp.