What storm does with cherry trees






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The sandpaper sky,
a moonlit night.
thunderclouds hid the winking stars

The moon was left alone to fall
in a million puddles of rainwater;
waves don't wash it
with their current;
casuarinas can't bend more

~too heavy for the ants to carry,
the moon reflected
with gratitude.

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*முதல் பயணம்*

ஆடை உடுத்திய ஐந்தறிவுப் பறவையாய்
ஆகாயத்தின் ஐவிரல் நுனி பற்றி;
விரிந்து சில வினாடிகளேயான இறகுகளை
மேகப்புனலில் விரித்தேன் பாய்மரமாய்.

வீசும் காற்று என் வால்நுனிக்குப் பின்னே;
தொடுவானத்தின் தொலைதுாரம் குறைந்தது !
கடலின் பிம்பத்தில் உதித்த கதிரவனின்
மஞ்சள் நிற உதட்டுச்சாயம் பூசிய உதடுகள்,
என் இமையருகே இனிமையாய்ப் புன்னகைத்தன.

சுவாசக்காற்றை சுவைக்க முயன்றேன்;
கடலின் மௌனத்தை வானின்றும் தேடினேன்;
கிழவனின் தாடியாய் வெளுத்துக் கிடக்கும்
மேகங்களின் மேற்பரப்பில் கால்பதிக்க அயர்ந்தேன்;
ஓடும் நீரின் நிழலை நாடினேன் !

இயற்கையின் மெல்லிசைக்குத் தலையசைக்கும்
மாமரக்கிளையில் அமர்ந்து இன்பம் முகாந்தேன்;
வானைச் சூழ்ந்து கொண்டது இருள்,
எனக்கு வழித்துைணையாய் நட்சத்திரங்கள்.
விரைந்தேன், விடியலை நோக்கி!

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A cyanide ocean.
Crushing poems in my palm,
I drown, to dissolve.

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the hidden waters of a seashell are being extended
with every teardrop that fell;
the flowers are burning with flames
rather than the mere warmth
that used to be there, caressing their petals

and those petals now remain parched
by the warmth that had left

mists of a thundercloud
surpass my eyesight,
i trace the footsteps of the path:
six footsteps walked north
which must've been eight,
now two had left,
like the ends of an untied knot

the cracks on a bougainvillea bough
bend by my window
to hold my withering worries

the darkness around,emitted by her shadow
is born from the flickering specks of a matchstick
that lit my path to the canyon's edge;
to fall into the lump of her seived shadows

and once i drop myself,
my eyelids would never again be drooped
i wonder if she could differentiate between the hues
of a dead red rose my heart
and the blood of a dead man's heart in the pocket

she, the roaming floricide that
killed the flower,in and out of
my world of assumptions;
she, the genocide of my envisions
went breaking my crystal balls

she, the not so instant cyanide.

-

A missile flew east
Boom! The dark sky ate the light
and nothing happened.











captioned?

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the nouns around
went hiding under tableclothes
to escape the darkness
that overflowed
from the broke-up tungsten of a bulb

i imported light into the room
with a matchstick
and it shrunk the visible colours

a notorious goblin
screeched with its nails
at walls that were recently invisible

a little candle cannon light
shot light at the wall
and i penetrated

a paper held my placid words
and jumped out
into the night
to merge with the high notes of cicadas
as a song with solace

~the night breaths in darkness

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just let me be.






captioned//

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_____________________________________________

a shattered sky broke the sea into seven silver waves
and scraped off the cliffs that clinged to cat-pawed canyons;
the sweet streams of the canyons
are now guests of the salty sorrows.

the escaped parakeets perched on
the pine trees of my sketchbook
where deforestation is a dead joke;
those dangling debris that held tufts of grass
slipped and tripped far beneath

an eerie moss, startled by the same monsoon's mist
grew unaware of the bay's fable
under the shelter of a cobweb;
black snow with no other hue
blew down, from what was the wide blue

~a bleak blanket borrowed a breath
_____________________________________________

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hold the stories behind every smile
within the wrinkles of your parchment
to constellate those like the stars of the sky-pile

connect those dots anyway you like
criss-cross, loops and curves
but make sure they don't build another spike

grow a bonsai in either of your boots
and feel the moisture of fallen maple leaves
that wait to rejuvenate when spring toots

drain the silver sponges of your sorrow
go plunge into the void between two phonecalls
gather the fallen feathers and fly out before the skies narrow

can kangaroos really walk?
take a chalk and evolve, from a paranoid to a paradox;
what if lions can say quack?

if there's something longer than the Nile
tis the ecstacy of the extent between your cheeks;
hold the stories behind every smile
to constellate those like the stars of the sky-pile!

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