Saturday, October 11, 2008

poems of sree devi nair

Serpent’s Travel

Why should we look for the lines
On the hands which come to soothen?
I stand on the side of the breasts
That comfort me.
The look of the loving eyes,
My angst.
The beauty of the eyes that bo\ehold,
Another domain
I do not need its tradition,
Nor its beauty
Honey drips in words:
I do not need it
Words slepping out of tougue
Do not provide staple
For my anger.
I search for love
In all lips.
More than the beauty of lips
Do I need, not the clinical preciseness
Of the dentals
Looking into my soul,
I can see this all.
My belief
Is my breath.
I cherish the sigh of
That mind which comes searching for me;
Not the beauty of the nose.
I do not seek the beauty of
The hands that embrace me.
Remember the touch of the hands
Is a rare love, silence.
I am not in the firmness of the
Breasts which love me,
But in the over flowing love
Will I plant myself.
Not the ornamentation of the feet
Not its shapeliness
Will decide my path
The firmness on
The earth
Like unending power of will,
Like a serpent, slithering comes
Though my thoughts.
My feet
Follows that serpent’s travel

Scattered Rain
A drop of rain
Male me love-torn
Is somebody coming
To land me through the
Labyrinth of Love, unknown?

I received from the sharp nails
Of rain, tiktats unknown, sighs.
Is it that the rain drops
Could steal the lust of my eyes?

Like some organism,
Rain drop beckons me,
But I cannot ever see
The rain
Like scattered idols of life, rain.
Yet my mind
Not cooled.
On each glass piece of
Shattered mind, a rain reflects, may be
In the sky, into the mind
I keep seeking the rain.
May may love
Come as rain