
photomk
critic, columnist, journalist, poet, novelist, philosopher, theorist,short-story writer and orator/- ഞാൻ എന്നെയാണ് വായിക്കുന്നത്:എന്നെയാണ് എഴുതുന്നത് . എം കെ ഹരികുമാർ /

Though titled ‘Ants’, this poetic peice
doesn’t have either a life of its own
nor any halo around it
Sans any vain imageries of either
separation or grief
ants are breaking all poetic rules
This poem is an escape from history
without any nostalgia,
neither sublimity
nor the flow of Papanasini
Unable to withstand the sense and
senselessness
the ants are creeping
among these verses;
Without the least faith in lyricism
the ants are searching for poetic impulses
outside the walls of lyrics
The symbols in this poem are nothing but
pieces of life oft used and discarded
by contemporaries
The smell of silence is akin to that of the
frozen bodies in a government hospital
There was sensuous mourns of prostitution
inside a taxi car
There was the lament of the dropouts pasted on the
walls of the police station
Ultra modern lusty obesity of the female mass was in wait
In the condensed darkness of the
transport bus stand
The solitude of the corroded
bodies of a dog lie in the rail track
The discarded plastic cups spread scattered
in the rail tracks
The absurdity of the dumb adolescence
was throbbing inside the lingerie of mary,
a street hooker
The condom crazy feminists
The archaic quivers of the epileptic
being rushed to the hospital in a local bus
Shadows of literary criticism reflecting in the entrails
of the tomoto got smashed onthe road
before reaching the
vegetable stand
The ants needed only the symbols and not
any reviews or explanations
Refusing to become symbols the ants
bid audio to poem, scattered all over
losing their way
Even this poem has nothing to
do with explaining symbols, emblems or wisdom



photo :mkThe misty crest of Munnar melting apart
in to clouds, sky and ocean
It becomes whiter and whiter resembling
the ever-depressing sense of separation
and gets toned down in showers
In the township, the mist
is both spiritual relief
and refreshing for the tourists
Among the tall eucalyptus soldiers
who are yet to wake up from dreams,
the clusters of mist become puzzles
The epic expanse of the mist
escorts the well disciplined
regiment of tea plants parading on the slopes
The eucalyptus trees are like sentries
in the sacred woods of eternal love
The echo-point in the woods
keep on reverberating the words,
“I love you”
The wings of swans vanish
bidding adios
The nuptials of affections
dig tunnels into the past
where carcasses
of forbidden love lie scattered
The packets of “tata tea”,
the invisible embraces of Kannan Devan hills
stretching out from the green
slopes of Munnar
The abstractness of memories
vomited by pain and
the glistening wilds which
wipe away the fearsome grief
Now there is only mist,
the language, the ritual,
the religion and the god








The sky looked like a broken kite,
just as the lone murmurs of the street girl, Paru;
Buses were roaring away;
Automobiles were writhing at the deep impact
they had made on lifeless bodies
Wind whispered a rare mantra akin to a
jungle song in Paru’s ears;
The tentacles of depressed heat waves
were encircling her
amidst the buzz of the city’s unemployed lot
She found succor in the tantric rites of tribes,
their concoctions, blood red garlands and
broken coconuts
In the pay-ward of anguish,
she waited for the birth pangs of yet
another dream
The thirsty moans of the oppressed
got drowned in their own sweat;
as also the wailing of the illiterate
and hapless
The empty bowels had the
hunger of the Panchapandavas
The bleat of the horns of buses
reminded the moans
of those tribal chieftains
who succumbed
to unknown maladies;
The street became deserted like
the frustration of an young girl
Yielding to archaic
temptations of a scorned soul’s
noontime heat,
Paru turned a wild beast
In the street she snarled
at the onlookers;
she boogied forward
on the look out of the killer demon
In the backdrop were whispers of the
scorned leaves which have lost its green
in automobile emissions;
The creeping whispers hung
as a crown on the
monstrous
theyyam dancing just
behind her
MK