Monthly Archives: February 2011

A romance with the grass!

Beautifully embellished with morning dew,
The grass starts its life anew!
While extending its arms to reach the sky,
It as well sways and falls down
To the innocent music of a lonely flute’s cry!

Reflects its warmth with the golden sunlight,
Dances with the wind and sings in delight!
Pampers all lost love’s weep,
A bond it creates thats so deep!

I lie on it spending my lonely days,
Watching it to surround me, nuzzling my face.
While all ugly beauties disappear,
Arise a merry unknown,
A beauty thats pleasant – a beauty of a newborn!
Called the treasure of my dear earth, the grass,
Thus, gives me a motherly pleasure
Of an embracing humble lass!

Heart – spilled out!

The heart palpitated
With emotions that are strong.
It cried with the rain that poured along.
Severely poked with gentle music
It wept at its depth.
With the pain pinging in its veins
The nerves around it strained.
It swirled in the violin
That was heard again and again.
An awkward emptiness arose
Engulfing the evening rainbow
Spreading everywhere its shadow.
Where is the light?
Where is the beauty?
Searching for these, the heart,
Disappointed, would cling on to which art?

சந்தர்பவாதம்

விடிந்தால் அணைக்கப்பட போவதை
தெரியாமல்
ஒளிர்கிறது தெருவிளக்கு பிரகாசமாய்
இருளில்!

கண்மணியே…

அள்ளி யள்ளிப் பருகுதடியென்
உயிர் ததும்பும் தேனதனை அவ்வருவியிலே
குளிர்ந்தே மனங்குளித்து கூத்தாடுதடி
இசை மிகுந்த காற்றின் அலைதனிலே
படர்ந்தே தென்றல் பந்தாடுதடி
பண்பாடும் பனைமர ஓலையிலே
பருந்துபோற் சிறகடித்துப் பறக்குதடி
என்மனம் இன்பமது ஊடுருவவே
தனிமைதனின் சோகமும் மகிழுமோ
விரைத்த வுள்ளந்தான் உவந்தேவுருகுமோ
உன் தேன்மொழியதனை கேட்கையிலே?

When those words ring…

Ring those uttered words of hers,
Like the melody of a bittersweet symphony
And linger those fond memories
As charming as a sketch of a brilliant art!

As I walk alone along the barren paths
Of mouldering autumn leaves in the dark,
The street lights blur as I think of the past,
Whose fragrance make me spin and die, getting high!

Her voice united with cricket chirps and rustling leaves
Along with a tingling silence as a whole,
Strikes an emotional chord deep inside
As it stealthily drops down the soul!

Springs of joy sprout, out of nowhere,
In the arid land of nightmare,
Gifting it a new life of flowery trees,
Butterflies and buzzing honey bees.
A scene that I would wish to stare at, forever!

To hug you, my dear Earth!

I regret for I couldn’t stretch my arms
Sufficiently to hug you my dear Earth.
You spoke to me with tweets
Of morning humming birds
That circulated around tiny flowers
Which embellished the tender tips of plants and tress
Along with weird buzz of wandering honey bees.
You looked at me with the exquisite eyes
Of beautiful women imbuing my soul
With voluptuous sketches, showing me the artistic world!
You would shoulder my mother with care
For me to feel her cozy warmth
And smiled, when my sleepy eyes swayed
For her lullabies.
You made me kiss you breathlessly,
When I was provided with heavenly beauties
That decorated your stretched shaped body.

As I drown in you,
I wish to write a solemn song
To celebrate my pleasure with music and poetry.
But I couldn’t!
Having lost the tranquility
My mental faculties were tainted
With poisonous sadness of disappointments.
Unable to instigate the numbed mind of mine
I regret now in the darkness!
You bring me stars that shimmer
And a delicate moon that shines like a pearl,
With cold breezy winds that murmur
To console me.
Yet I regret, in the depth of loneliness,
For I couldn’t stretch my arms sufficiently
To hug you, my dear Earth!

Unfurls not the art!

Appears the art right in front,
Out of nowhere all of a sudden,
Becomes more and more artistic
As I spend more time with it.

Gets tempered the palpitating heart.
Beats faster sometimes but,
Seeking for values to emotions,
Adding innocence to its notions.

Mind bends for the beauty unbound
Regrets for it when not found
For the art unfurls not
To the fullest its beauty.

Bewildered to see the lost love,
Looking around for a temporary wow,
Is the mind not charm enough to be let in,
To flow and stir itself in the art tasting?

Disturbed is the music,
Clamored is the rhyme,
With the shaped merry distorted
Weeps the mind of mine!