Unleash the wings of poesy
Those night behindhand extend till Three
Thoes night prattled Extend till Three
Stunned by the way you say.
Nor moon, nor star, nor Mite
Stopped our night:
but emotion which has no formation.Has to be, I know it’s weird to.
Think of things makes sentiment,
Your story never stopped me from thinking.
Nor love, nor life, nor lust, nor anger, nor sad, nor friend.You have experienced it in my age:But me listening to you crazily Nor experienced or experiencing it in my age.
To the way as dogs day in fare vessel
Extensive to extend in sea, can’t stop pageant.
For more that problem,we gaze nightfell.
Sun wave only to waves not:, draught.
Thus much to eat, Portuges to kadazan.
What to choose, Moment owns not you,
On a spur of deed, pled to abundance.
Douche till hebdomad fare in perdu.
Esse of cloud offers Adam’s ale
Sensation self in bewildered, why not ego.
Bills of Piedmont, seem’s like rail.
Should not be drunken man has go.
Let man cease his thoughts
World will soften toward.
Was it I,
Hurt him, crushed him, killed him!
No!
Out of love I bathed him with
A colour in this colourful world
Not knowing the fanatical eyes which
Crookedly preferred to my cover of colour
Over his book of virtues,
Over his dream of laurels which
Gleams brighter than Sun.
The flawless painting of his righteousness
Ruinated by the colour I fortuitously added.
Was it I!
No!
Atrocity on the sea of Rampalian-Wretch
Sail! Every night! against the tempestuous.
Legendary leaders had legacy
Fighting against bigotry
Yet buried alive at the premise of equivalency.
As they rashly accuse me
Of making people look savage,
I pray Him to pluck me
Out of their intolerant eyes
Let them wander without sight
And be forever blind.
Wasn’t it them the same ones
Ruined the Great houses once! Derek!
The heinous prejudice strangled him
To death on the face of Earth.
But upon Heaven God’s hand
Now fondling his nape
There he carries his breath to breathe.
Atrocity on the sea of Rampalian-Wretch
Sail! Every night! Against the tempestuous
Every night! Every fight! Against the wizard of Uz.
Oh My blissful companion! How meaningful now this life is!
Essence in each and every thing by His Craft
But ludicrous I seem, dexterously moving the Sun and the Moon
Like Atlas at last be fettered forever on the east end of Earth
Oh Speak! My coy mistress of eternal silence
Is it the biggest blender to be the greatest of all attributes!
Why envy even He, known as all sufficient for mankind,
Yet to learn enduring my excellence.
On the quest of conquest, Homer deems me as Odysseus’ father
In the battle of cleverness, will enslave Plato on the day of debate
Oh Hear! My bare bondless brother!
Myself, the king of all and everything on and above
The helm of History writes me each pages in every ages
Of my avaricious, serenely slaughtered bunch of Corinthians
Thus dare not they to disobey my commandment
Consulted Pythia for the art of shearing souls smoothly
And seduced Tyro the Thessalian princess in the game of thrones
Killed many a times to preserve my hubristic rules
For Hospitality, never ever be my cup of tea
My warmth hostile to the hosting upset Him
Nevertheless, Thanatos chained by my deceptive decency
Persephone sympathized by my crocodile tears
Tricking even the gods in thier own goddoms
Angered Him to wrack me on the facade of Corinth.
Here chained I am as infant with uncut cord.
But with absolute pleasure trudging from the steep
After rolling thou over this Nature’s hunchback.
Wherever thou slide and glide whether on ground or summit
Its height not even be nearer to test my might.
As if a penalty, sentenced to push each other
Till the Meteors and the Earth crash together
Foresee! Wise philosophers at the end of civilization
Find me
Become me
Oh My soulless stone! Life is absurdly beautiful isn’t it!
Like a petty star laying over the Neptune
The flower flowering upon you, my everybody’s moon
Dews on your cheeks is the milk of Heaven
I drunk deep the dews over-driven
Drugstore of your leafy wet lips’ each kiss cured my pain
And never let me and my torpid mind loiter in vain
Your love-making through my nerves elevated me in ecstasy
And serenely spelled my psyche rest in fantasy
You stole the muse I had once
And placed yourself over there since
The seeds that sowed on the lawn of my brain
Never be reaped without reasonable rain
Is there any poet has ever become great without your consent?
What a mighty lurky demon, in truth, do you represent?
Is it you the la belle dame sans merci, My Keats warned
And dragged himself into the misery state of mind after everything earned?
No complaint, We traveled tour over Xanadu in merry
But why fortook My dear Coleridge to Hades at last in hurry
I loved floating around the million stars by your company
But now, no longer, wish to live in devil’s harmony
Leave me for I readily sacrifice even my treasure of fame
As I do not want anymore to be tame
CUT OPEN A PAPAYA
Cut, open a papaya.
The seeds are you in my brain
Each is you and every neuron.
The black seeds are black board
Your name is written
Class room door left open
In every emergence of your evocation
Comes cool breeze
The letters freeze
I overwrite again and again —
Dwindling as a chalk pen
The cool breeze moisten
The letters,
Causing me trouble:
It became unrubbable
My tears not enough
To make the duster wet
It’s a threat! It’s a threat!
My system alarms:
Malware found!
It’s too late. So strong is bond.
It says
“Disk format
Or keep it corrupt”
It’s like
“You want your memory
Or amnesia?” Misery!
BUFFET TO STARVING
I wrote like eating buffet out of passion
I sipped the soup out of your mouth.
To set the mood, get appetized.
Starters, lovely: I pick one by one, all veg:
The meat balls, the chick’s leg and thigh,
The unbarbequed steak of flesh with a button
And finally the whole undulating mermaid of a fish.
Unlike starters, the main course available here,
To the contrary, is just two in which I chose one.
For the Blazing blazons of starters
And panegyry of main course
You were the reason ofcourse.
Slowly I rejoice every morsel
Filling, burping, filling, burping
Water, now and then to lube.
I eat for body and eat for soul.
Nutrition to body, satisfaction to soul.
I eat body and I eat soul.
Your literal body and your unmatchably tasty soul.
The food, I am the food to you for
My starvation quenches your hunger.
The food, you are the food to me
To keep the libido running for pages.
Does even the immortal ink drains to crack?
Cause I’m deserted before the desserts
And no more buffet here after!
I wrote buffet out of passion.
Now out of hunger, Out of passion.
He, the admirer of my imperfections!
Never ever my days are bloomed without him_
And, his every night has never missed my lyrical lullabies
Ever to give its ears to hear.
My imperfections helped me
To shape him out with perfections.
I did, I did it! yes! passionately I shouted inwardly.
Years passed.
Now,
The umbilical cord has been severed!
He introduced me into his family,
‘His’, yes, he cheerfully welcomed ,”Here, My family Mom”.
I got understood well that My Son has become a Man.
My world is ‘He’,
But, in His world ‘I am NIL’.
Spending life in orphanage,
By thinking of the past and with
The bliss in imaging how He would be, now,
just grown or full-grown man?
during this 15 years of separation.
The pain of separation is tormenting me,
Taking me near the end.
I still firmly believe in that he would arrive
Ensuing my death to do the essential rites.
At last!
The charioteer of dreams, Time has brought my son
In front of me for one last-time.
Bed-Ridden me:
Difficult to breathe,
Trying to utter a word_
With my Son, the Sun of my life.
I reminisce, by stuffing my pupil with his presence,
Those special 10 months for every mother-to-be.
He dwelt in my womb where
He was stayed for 10 months. And, did
Some mischievous movements and unforgettable kicks.
Rare kind of jubilation I felt from
Whatever He had offered when He was inside me.
The best Of me offered,
Beyond the best is,
He to me.
The coward heart has no guts to beat anymore,
To see the tears in his eyes
even with my blurring eyes.
O!! How can I bear that the reason for his pain is me?
He is the treasure who came from me,
How can I let him feel the pain?
Heart of mine has been torn before it gets halted
by seeing his tears.
The muted ears boosted up with
The lullaby he has sung for me,
To have an interminable Sleep.
It is the one, His favourite,
It is the one, I used to sing,
Till when he was around five.
Sensing gratefulness to have
Him as My Son,
My eyelashes are gradually hugging together.
His voice is a pain killer to me,
My Grief-filled heart cannot tolerate,
The sin of being the cause of His painful tears.
So, nothing more to do,
As a retribution, I myself hold my breathe.
Blessed to be His mother…
The few seconds before
When all getting black in vision,
He is the last image fallen into my eyes.
Feel the Peace after the successful penalty,
Death greets me and avow:
The buried Love of your son
is what spouting as tears by him for you.
Death trumpets:
“Mother is pawning her whole life
To Death to raise her offsprings;
and, as well,
Every Father has sold his soul out
To God to fulfil his offsprings’ requisites”.
When all the lands on the earth is asleep,
As they were given sedative to sleep,
An Ameture crew of paddlers, often fought
With their restless ocean of thoughts,
From the city where kaveri spilts into two,
Among them a commanding sailor too,
They gallantly approach the endless ocean
To tame its unruly tides in motion.
Flag of fame is, seen far, fluttering in slow- motion.
Million thoughts flash on their mind’s screen
Those are fresh and green.
As they embark in a boat for undestinied land,
“Who knows untill their breath stops they may sail without an isle to land”
The fearless comander faces all the faces
Before him, to trace if there is any fear’s trace on their faces,
Admiral-like comander can observe the firmness on them
So he firmly believes.
His eyes comand them to get on to the board
And take the paddles:
More familiar, more grippy as their own paddles.
As the sailor places his right leg on the bow,
The boat moves and the marking on the hands of the paddles read: Kilk.
Your voice, sweet slender drops, slips and seeps like a snail through your, honey-dressed lips.
My love and your voice gone eloped from the world, from the hands of air, And, from you and me finally. I think, They would mazily roam like a bee And drink the sweetness in the flower As you and I do over each other.
They both took flight. Dislocated the heart of clouds. And, sail like swans upon the ocean of the world. Both blessed with drops of isolation Like me with your tresses Which cuddled the melancholic wall of my face like a trellis wet with dreams of flowers.
Now, your voice and my love, return like a perfume, to their cave of our mouth, Which is closed by our lips!!!
kilk 
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