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Fabiyas M V

Bloomed Rose Stem Lost

Bloomed rose stem lost,
Alone on sand, old fair one
Never it can be.

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Love Canoe Zigzags

Just below black hair fall, and
Along valley warm rays kiss,
Stroking buds leaning stream ward,
Love canoe zigzags

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Just One Touch...

Just one touch,
Unknowingly…
Imprints of silent love…
Fragrance of fingers…
Myriads of self kisses
On the same spot,
Later in the secrecy
Of bedroom.
As a pebble dropped in rill,
Thousand romantic ripples…

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Severed Tail of a Home Lizard

Wriggling tail really tells
That soul and body ride together,
But whose divorce
Death always seeks.

Wriggling tail really tells
That pain is a pin,
Which pricks on
On all the severances.

Wriggling tail really tells
That visible and invisible
Are synchronized
On all beings in universe.

FABIYAS M V

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Bike Ride

Like a vine him entwined,
While the bike rushed.
More speed; tighter hugged:
A ride ecstatic.
The bike roared and jolted
With the thrill never experienced.

Small pits on the road did
Jerk them with the bike.
Rain water in pits the bike
Beautifully splashed.
Very risky drive,
But speed reduce both dislike.

The greatest pleasures hid
In the pits of risks.

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Never Dying Dad

My smile resembles yours,
Everybody says;
Not merely my smile,
I think, my sob too does.

When my legs waver
In the sludge,
I see your rope
To climb up the rock.
I am harnessed to you.
The sparks in my brain
Are from your furnace.
I hold up what you dreamed
Of me for my children.

When you cast your shadows
On every word and deed,
How can I tell
You are no more?

[...] Read more

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My Good Old Sticker

Stickers with pictures so fair
To childhood adhere.
Stickers of pleasure,
Fade as childhood fade.
Being spotted my good old sticker
With red rose in a drawer,
Reborn the lost love for sticker.
A warm gift, secretly presented:
Nothing else I had got, and she had possessed.
Though my sticker
Is faded and fragile,
Never to burn it I decided;
Busy with someone somewhere;
To burn, sweet, but in vain.

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A Top made of a Coconut Tree Leaf

A weaving magic on a green coconut tree leaf ;
The leaf top rotates on the childhood rod fast.
No canker, the child runs with the top of green leaf,
Which, making the rustic road dizzy, spins fast.
Moss of disgust never gathers on the spinning top;
The drooping boredom spins away, as the child runs
With the top.It withers and gets slow under hot rays.
It did spin clockwise: one wishes anti-clockwise.

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Coconut tree climber

Upward movements rhythmic,
With his legs kept
Within a ring of rope,
His life like.

Intuition his
Ripeness assured,
And falls down the livelihood
At the top of trees.

Just a slip
May end in all end,
But the practices
Rarely slip.

Hackneyed his
Ways are;
But honeyed and free
Under the calluses.

[...] Read more

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Paddy Smell

Nostrils are the steps to soul.
Paddy farm, just reaped, smells.
Same old unique smells
Climb up the attic of soul.

Full soul shines in silver
Above the leaves tide.
Footfalls of cat eyed maid
With a pot on her shoulder.

On embankment in field,
Her anklet resonates.
Old untouched love beats,
Then my soul gets wild.

At dawn smelling paddy,
Old white skirt flutters
Below black blouse hers:
Truly soul smells paddy.

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