Saturday, January 21, 2012

Alone, let's make love




Like a mentor teaching
His son to breathe.
The girl would not
Uncover her sheath.

You lost me, when
You said you had me
Going, when the last
Thing I want to be
Is annoying.

One building is bigger
Than the other in size.
The bigger the thicker
Are their faces disguised.

The chimneys allow the
Smoke to go through holes.
Every city has a place
To blow off, a whore.

A limerick, a dark comedy
Suspends the air in
Unseen algae, no peering eyes
Parked in the lobby.
We are alone,
Let’s make love.

-- Mohan

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Beside the house




Listening to the heartbeat of a wagtail,
Running on the ground covered in dust and ash.
Sweating not in the summer heat, but lightly pressing
Its feet to the earth, scampering to her nest.

A crawling mongoose, with ferocity in her eyes,
Lurking creepily under the bushes, searching
For something to eat, now and then coming out
Into the sunlight, standing tall with her tail behind.

A few sheep grazing gracefully, quietly
To fill their larder. Once they go home
To feed their young ones with milk
Sweeter than nectar, nutritious and pleasing.

Every one of the old, surrendering
Their self to fight for their young.
Who sit and wait in the shadows to eat
And savor the tit-bits to grow up
And take the same care and share the same story.

-- Mohan

Friday, January 13, 2012

Chirruping bird



Chirruping bird,
Chirruping bird.
You sing with the buzzing bee.
Like, no other song I like,
You sing your melody.

Chirruping bird,
Your heart is sweet.
Your throat is made of harp-
Woven from the softest silk.
It tears darkness apart!

-- Mohan

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Trepidation



 Magical and misty nights,
Drown my corpse'y bed.
Lying above the field of cotton candies,
Soft, tender and silky white.

Dreaming of blue water droplets,
Falling from the green leaves of trees
Bending over to get raped by the wind,
That pushes on and on in a ritual intercourse.

Sweet sweat flowing down the hair,
Burning eyes that are closed and wet.
On the pillow a lusty maiden
Lays her head.

Turn, kiss, love
Get lost!

-- Mohan