Thursday, June 18, 2009

Poems by sreedevi nair

words
Sometimes the words are arrows.
Some other times they are frogs.
They move about jumping.
Words are manykind like
Chameleon,Doves, and Dinosaurs.
Only words know how to change color.
Words seldom think theselves
While uttering or enjoying.
Once a word talked about its bondage;
Not needed,nothing is needed.
Iife seemed waste.
For what all these havebeen to?
The life that is not needed for the word
Is necessary for the Man;
The man who rapes the word.

The prey

Did u come Summer Birds
The other day,
Will u spare me from
This vain cage of flesh?
Iam just a body
In the summer paths
Where humanim is lost forever.
You can gulp me too.
Iwould be an ideal prey for u.
Tell me if there is some preparatins
To become an ideal prey.
I have decided
To become a prey.
Sufferings given out by Life
Never complain on anything.
Every thing was enjoyed well.
My knoledge remained in complete
If these were not there.
Now I understand every thing;
The prey,the body and this life.

Words again

My words left me
With out showing any courtesy.
When unrefined words
Tried to be poetry,
I objected.
Words said;
We want to be poery.
The poet is their enemy!
Words ,leaving the poet,
Usurps the arena.
Where is the ground
For the words to become poetry?
Words said;
We would buy the land.
The words,searched for the Truth,
That would buy the whole world.
At last admitting their failure,
And remained alone at the gate,
I asked ;
What happened?
Words said again;
We failed.
It's impossible to find Truth alone.
But would give the truth-seekers
As much as u need.

sans peace

Searched for liberation
In the Ganges and the Yamuna.
Felt like ending each journey.
Cows did go grazing
But never did come back.
Bird nests fell in the wind.
Fises are thrown scattered in the tumult of the ocean.
Prostrated before
The fire,the water,
The air,and the corpse.
Prepared rice gruel for
Ant, cat ,crow and begger.
Yet mind alone
Never did get peace.

bats

Bats hung upside down
In search of a chance to be sad.
While sad,they remember
their previous births.
To be sad is a cleansing forthem.
Acleansing from the
Damn life's darkness
A cleanliness
Like the one when iron is hot and beaten,
To make it supple.
Saddned and thus cleanesd,
Hanging up side and down,
Bats could see the
Nakedness of the humans.
A beauty which the humans
Bear unknowingly.

Singular

Body's plural
Mind's also plural
World's plural
Language is plural
Name is plural.
When,
Mind leaves the body,
Words leave the poem,
Sky leaves the cloud,
Flowers leave the tree,
To be free,
The singular me is born.

In search of

Searching me, even yesterday
I thought of enemies.
Iwent alone where
The city lay dead like a sick dog.
Didn't find me.
Searched me in the market
Where carcasses were hung upside down.
Saw life trying desperately
To leave the last grip of breath
From the tip of the goat's sliced meat.
Saw the broiler chicken sitting impatiently
Awaiting the butcher,in their nest.
life must 've become so much bored
Only for the broiler chickens.
Never did i see me in
The government officials who came to
Gather the bones of the street that died
Slashing its guts.
Never did see me evenwhen
Reaching home and getting naked,
Hurried to make love.
Was it me who went by caressing me
Like a lightning?

poetic

As banana flowers fall,
As the dew drops fall from the foliage,
Clouds transform in to dusk,
Reuctant to seek the fruit of poetry.
Poetry is lost somewhere
When ever thinking of poetry
Some thing poetic
Surges up.
No flower is poetry;
Not poetic either.

night

Night turned a raindrop
And hide
On the black feather of the bird.
Where ever the bird flew
The night also went along.
When it was about to dawn
The night got dead bored.
Loosing the grip on the feather
The night fell down.

The painted forms

Colored shapes fill in the canvas
As terrifying forms.
Drawn, all in mixed colors,
When ever tried to beautify them,
Devils kept on dripping down the brush.
Who makes the world weired
Hiding behind the colors?
Are colores the successsors or representatives
Of some terrible truth?
I kept the brush washed
To keep my life from getting colored.
Are human emotions green?
Is Nature green?
Is Nature's green also a guise?
Could easily detect empty emotions on the painted faces.
Let's not color the picture of Life.
On the canvass,invisible forms of voidness
Blossomed.
It is always risky to seek the soul
That throws away the mask.
The risk of enjoyable emotions.

trans: k santhoshkumar