They Stitched My Tongue
THEY STITCHED MY TONGUE
&
they stitched my tongue with their arrogant clubs
and robbed me naked for the mindless YELLOW
swishing their blinding blades letting out my throbbing RED-
i became a tattered football in the game of their orgy
and suffocated drenched in their nasty abuses in flood-
my journeys in city buses resembled my funeral procession
with unruly namesake students battering the interior-
the courts transformed into centres of lawlessness and deceit
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poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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A Depressed Girl
a depressed girl
&
her eyes have strayed into the horizon
never to return for eternity, it seems;
or have they struck a chord with another soul?
her heart is a boiling cauldron of conversations;
she tries to serve to all near ones through her tight lips
but none seems to have appetite for her delicacies;
she has hence forsaken this proximate world of far off hearts
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poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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A Deathless Bridge For Loving Souls To Unite!
I and she, standing close, facing mikes,
Melted our voices into golden fibres of melodies
To the accompaniment of percussions and strings
And poured out our souls in mellifluous tunes into mikes
In varying emotions, moods and intensities
Of love, longing, separation and meeting of passionate hearts,
But, between me and she, it was just profession,
Uncoloured by any distant dreams of desire or love!
Yet, the joys and sorrows and longings
That rode on our songs, clasped their hands together,
Embraced and twined in passionate hugs
And winged along the skies in surcharged emotions;
And powered the electrons of love in excited hearts
To reach out to the craving atoms of longing hearts!
O how blessed are we, defying time and distance,
To be a deathless bridge for loving souls to unite!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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I Am The Last Flower Of This Flowering Season
i am the last flower of this flowering season!
&
I am the last flower of this flowering season
and my tree and the season looks jaded and tired-
there is none to take leave of
nor anyone to see me off
when the softest wind would gently snap my ties
with the slender stalk that dreamily holds me aloft
and send me in swirling descent
for a final kiss of the earth
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poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Hi... Bird of The Spring Season, What Is Your Name? [Part-2]
The pleasing painting of the morning
Perching somewhere on a secret bough!
From where do you drizzle your melodies?
Have you brought the heavens
Down to this earth?
Are your body and blood
The mesmerizing music?
Which nation's maestro
Is your blessed teacher?
After folding your artistic wings
Have you now spread
Your golden poetic wings?
Do you float in ecstasy
In the horizon of music?
Have you forgotten
O Bird, your earthly presence?
Yours is now a gentle rain
Of sweet syrupy honey!
It seems you would melt
In your music that sobs and heaves!
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poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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A Poet.Is He The Man Who..?
A poet-
With dream as his face
with his feet a few feet
ever above the ground
walks all over the earth-
With his beaks of intellect
pecks at all fancies
that come within his grasp-
Scattering the rich soil of this earth
upon the expansive space,
and scooping with gusto
the luminous seeds of heavens
and showering them on earth in joy-
are these his daily routines?
Is he the wanderlust
who plucks blissful word-flowers
in the dense jungles of language
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poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Mind You, My Friends And All...!
mind you, my friends and all..!
&
mind you,
my friends and well-wishers-
i am absolutely not arrogant
when i politely say-
all my thoughts,
indeed everyone of them,
walk on the ramp of my mind
in graceful style
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poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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I Was Born When Cameras Were A Luxury
i was born when cameras were a luxury
far removed from the middle-class homes-
no faded and moth-eaten photographs
to spring memories of my lost childhood
from those frozen frames-
what were my thoughts and fancies then?
memories are blind and dumb
till i was six years old-
none cared too to remember my acts
to retell when i yearned to learn about my baby life-
really sad that i am unaware of those casual days
when life was given no special importance,
soaking in flashes of lights-
who knows what i prattled
and how i spent my idle hours in play-
o how many years of autobiography
have i lost in dim darkness?
must be the same for every guy of my age-
o time, walk back in slow steps into my toddler's days;
reveal me the imprints of my kid steps on your sands-
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poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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O Myriad Stars Hanging In Heavens!
O..myriad stars hanging in heavens !
I shed tears for you!
At nights you give out your all
to sprinkle your meagre lights
and faintly speak in lonely hours!
What use is of your spoonfuls of light
scarce even to illumine your homes?
At inconceivable distances
in infinite numbers
you bloom in mind-boggling sizes
to shower your grandeur!
In such an absolute mess
how to relish your beauty I puzzle!
Each one majestic and mighty more
than our smallest 'sun'!
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poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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O Naughty Child..! [part-4]
[ Part-4 ]
All day long
Like a tiny sparrow
On its delightful flight-
Running and dancing
You spread out
Cute little wings!
Is there not
That one word
' Weariness '
In your dictionary?
What we reject
You greedily collect;
How worthless articles
Transform to gold
At the incident of
Your curious rays ?
Won't you part with
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poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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