Poems by Lakshman

Virgin forests sinner men

a poem by Lakshman

A friend is available,
I call him from a distance,
He gives me an accepting glance,
It is for a cup of tea.
We don’t know if it has any effect,
Just that it’s perfect,
To get over your sleep,
And celebrate,
Then the feelings elevate.
We move to the chairs by the side of the forest,
The tea shop by its side inviting.
We order for two hot cups
Each cup of eight sips,
Then I notice the forests, green,
They are undisturbed,
I perturbed,
My inside too never seen,
Like the heart of the forest.
Sounds throng from everywhere,
As if welcoming me for a visit
But I just sit,
For the job outside is calling all the time
There’s no freedom to cross the boundaries,
The noisy to the silent one,
Sometimes noise is just exaggerated silence.

Poetry goose

a poem by Lakshman

The world is silent,
sounding like stone age,
except for the music, rock;
the cool breeze,
about to cease,
from the power of cells,
human, battery,
sniffed by a mongoose,
stiff, listening,
the alarm clock,
the beetles talk,
the telephones clang,
then the paws,
with blue claws,
the deadly fang,
then the pangs,
the prey is killed,
my page is filled.

Adieu

a poem by Lakshman

The bed is cozy,
comfortable,
the water jug is full,
fruits and flowers are fresh,
the “GET WELL SOON” cards are scattered everywhere,
the man is in his last sleep.

Music

a poem by Lakshman

The music-soul stirring,
except for the recorder, erring,
the sound is complete and incomplete,
the rhythm is picking up,
as the rhyme in my mind,
I am in a state of rewind,
not of the past,
but of yesterday,
when I lay in the wooden bench,
by the lawn,
thinking why does it always dawn?
can’t the smooth night continue,
silently,
with all sufferings given time,
to face relentlessly,
why the hopes by day,
when by night, they elope.

The Night

a poem by Lakshman

The night has submerged in dew,
leaving behind the morning moments, few;
to quench our thirst,
with the new day,
we lost the previous night.

Routine

a poem by Lakshman

Morning hour,
no job done,
the voices soar, alone;
I am in mourn,
streaked by thoughts, sour;
thinking of this sojourn,
when will I ever learn?
I retreat,
retrace my home,
lost in thoughts,
an air of solitude rots,
open the curtains,
sun shines,
between the two old pines,
then again the moment lull,
as if the mind is full,
and body is not,
then I close my eyes,
dark from sun’s spice,
I surmise
I am at the skies,
me alone,
happy,
then the alarm sappy,
forms my thunder,
I wake up, an aura of splendour,
then the fresh life,
stale tea.

Thoughts

a poem by Lakshman

The mind,
house of thoughts,
beautiful, ugly;
happy, sad.
Thoughts-
I owed you
you owed me;
you owned me,
the moments sad;
I owned you,
the moments happy.
my domination,
lead to creation, materialistic;
your domination,
lead to recreation, spiritualistic,
by the name-poetry.

The Night

a poem by Lakshman

The long day is over,
the night is out,
the party next door has started,
I can hear the music,
piercing the creeping silence.
I switch on the TV,
variety of channels to surf,
I’m awake again
alone,
in the wilderness of civilisation,
between sound and vision
while the other senses dwell deep,
making me feel weary
about today’s failures,
in the classroom,
facing the trials of education
before the ruthless teachers,
their work, my burden
their tests, my failures.
In the room next door
my creators,
always late from work
even if early,
their hymns in praise,
of the boy next door.
I’m afraid more of the day,
when everyone else in gay,
I’m in fright,
my solace has always been the night.
The dark world,
wherein solitude places me in comfort
as the king of my dreamfort,
I rule
every moment I lost, with a bit of smoke
from nostrils,
they are my oxygen, I’m in paradise,
daring to face tomorrow’s hell.
With a lot to yell,
I cry,
hoping someday,
there may be tears of joy,
in these wide open eyes.
I don’t want to sleep a wink,
for my ship of dreams is already
about to sink.