Showing posts with label k m tharakan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label k m tharakan. Show all posts
Friday, June 24, 2011
Thursday, August 14, 2008
poem by m k harikumar
The clowning clouds
The clouds went on with their rituals
without a tint of aesthetics
The jungles of the dark triggered
an invisible fear
The deserted railway station
sans neither passengers nor trains
turned into just a track connecting
unknown cities
The moon bored of complaints
was cooed by the heard of clouds
with the metaphoric
consolations
He let out himself for the deaf passions
which even inexpensive love can dispense
He immersed himself in the melody
of primitive ages through the imaginary
wedding mark he drew on her
forehead
He listened to the chants of divine lust
by pinching and pasting
sandal on her lower belly
amid bits of grief strewn
by the darkness
The clowning clouds hauled
the moon into infinite p
leasures
they led him into offensive and
defensive wars
as if in a black magic spell
The clouds at times recited and
performed some mystic verses from
ancient epics
And removed the veil from the
face of the moon with ritualistic
chants and lights
He became ecstatic by the mystic
ballet in the skies
He tried to kiss out with his lips
the evasive half an inch
hair perched
on her left chin
He drew a calf on her neckline
with his nose
and scribbled the fifty one alphabets
on her tongue with his
masculinity
Then he turned pale searching
in vain for butterflies
of sexual bliss
He didn’t know when
the clouds came to
veil the moon
Shedding the attires
of parting
he wandered
in the orphaned
solitude
of the
night
The clouds went on with their rituals
without a tint of aesthetics
The jungles of the dark triggered
an invisible fear
The deserted railway station
sans neither passengers nor trains
turned into just a track connecting
unknown cities
The moon bored of complaints
was cooed by the heard of clouds
with the metaphoric
consolations
He let out himself for the deaf passions
which even inexpensive love can dispense
He immersed himself in the melody
of primitive ages through the imaginary
wedding mark he drew on her
forehead
He listened to the chants of divine lust
by pinching and pasting
sandal on her lower belly
amid bits of grief strewn
by the darkness
The clowning clouds hauled
the moon into infinite p
leasuresthey led him into offensive and
defensive wars
as if in a black magic spell
The clouds at times recited and
performed some mystic verses from
ancient epics
And removed the veil from the
face of the moon with ritualistic
chants and lights
He became ecstatic by the mystic
ballet in the skies
He tried to kiss out with his lips
the evasive half an inch
hair perched
on her left chin
He drew a calf on her neckline
with his nose
and scribbled the fifty one alphabets
on her tongue with his
masculinity
Then he turned pale searching
in vain for butterflies
of sexual bliss
He didn’t know when
the clouds came to
veil the moon
Shedding the attires
of parting
he wandered
in the orphaned
solitude
of the
night
trans:saj mathews
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
poem by m k harikumar
Have anybody seen me?
In the splitting moments
I tried in vain to become a tree
The mind tree of my past
have collapsed into pieces
The thought that I am not still alone
rise from the depths of the heart
and just fades
The arrogance of rotten corpses,
school friendships that have become
dried up rivers
No, never these trees, these sculptures,
sunshine nor the soil
will ever identify us
They all have gone after
newer terrains of human
thoughts
No one wants to refresh
their acquaintance with
this soul swollen with pain
Are the twigs of trees en route
contain the essence of self cooked
agonies
They chain us again and again
in the labyrinth of endless queries
The life truths extended by twigs
The momentous emotions galore
The eternally mute chemistry of those
Who seek pleasure in multiple directions
I have not yet learned anything
Longing to grow in the sprouting tree
of infancy I ended up kissing
the ripe surfaces of grief
when my infancy, adolescence,
those boats that have left its moorings
grow as branches of my freedom
I seek myself in mystic plateaus
Have anyone seen me?
In the splitting moments
I tried in vain to become a tree
The mind tree of my past
have collapsed into pieces
The thought that I am not still alone
rise from the depths of the heart
and just fades
The arrogance of rotten corpses,
school friendships that have become
dried up rivers
No, never these trees, these sculptures,
sunshine nor the soil
will ever identify us
They all have gone after
newer terrains of human
thoughts
No one wants to refresh
their acquaintance with
this soul swollen with pain
Are the twigs of trees en route
contain the essence of self cooked
agonies
They chain us again and again
in the labyrinth of endless queries
The life truths extended by twigs
The momentous emotions galore
The eternally mute chemistry of those
Who seek pleasure in multiple directions
I have not yet learned anything
Longing to grow in the sprouting tree
of infancy I ended up kissing
the ripe surfaces of grief
when my infancy, adolescence,
those boats that have left its moorings
grow as branches of my freedom
I seek myself in mystic plateaus
Have anyone seen me?
trans:saj mathews
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