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Subtle Complexities and Myriad Simplicities by Ashok Subramanian P is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Monday, August 22, 2011

The Black Widow

The black widow,
She shakes her shapely behind,
A barrage of urticating hair,
Like poisoned shards of fiber glass,
Pierce the skin of my tender being,
Tears open my laughable defense,
And lodges between my tired flesh,
Pours silently from my poisoned veins,
A scarlet stream of beautiful thoughts,
And as I lie enervated,
She pounces on her choicest prey,
And seals the deal,
A fatal sting,
Paralysed, I see just a blur,
Beyond my tingling extremities,
And my tumbling confused self,
Dissolves in her treacherous bile.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

The Arrival

Trails of tears wash away the trails of blood,
And leaves a little bundle of joy,
Like the mild warmth of the sun in spring,
And the bubbles in a cold autumn stream,
Her unfamiliar cries announce,
Beams of light through darkest doors,
And spews fragrance into the tired souls,
Sweaty hands and sighs of relief,
Amazement at the wondrous miracle,
Thankful in our silent prayers.........

Thursday, May 19, 2011

The Second Fiddle

The second fiddle in a dreamy triplet,
Churns out a melancholy strain,
But alas! A chivalrous baritone,
Drowns the serenading refrain!

The Crystal Ball

I wander aimlessly along the streets,
Where dwelt a long lost memory,
Like a dusty crystal ball that,
Rolled away never to be seen,
Beneath each piece of furniture,
I grab at each strand of hair and web,
In futile attempts to regain the past,
I slash my arm just to feel it throb.

Monday, April 04, 2011

A Sexist Jeer

In the ladies' seat of life I rest,
With my eyes tightly shut,
Lest a fairer, daintier one,
Displace me with a shove and frown!

Sonnet #3

The miles between a bed of live coals,
Simmering cruelly to singe my feet,
The air and ringlets of smoke enfolds,
My stifled urges and fears discreet,
I yearn for the air that gracefully held,
The plumes of thy timeless fragrance,
The curls on thy cheek that I once beheld,
And thy throaty impish cadence,
That clumsily broke into fervent cheers,
At every innocuous jibe and jest,
Gulping mouthfuls of indefinite fears,
And smothering every doubt in my chest,
I carelessly leap and sprint along in vain,
My feet and tired soul now rejoice in pain.

Monday, February 21, 2011

A Day at the Fair

In a cup and saucer, A fair of sorts,
Revolving clamps of rotating machinery,
The bluest sky and the comforting verdure,
In regular patters with the dampening crimson!

Look on the face, as melancholic as death,
Malevolent repercussion, overstayed the allure,
Amidst candy floss and tarot cards,
The piteous cry of a lovable man-child!

Strewn across the path the sabbath revelry,
Damp confetti and discarded tinsel,
Caked around the grass the ubiquitous vomit,
My day at the fair forgotten in a trice!

Sunday, February 06, 2011

The Enterprise

Spawned is a creature in a gilded cradle,
Utmost care taken to keep it merry,
Even in instances of a bris or a mundan,
Or the taste of the sweetness of jaggery,
From a golden thimble, on a silver spoon,
Rejoicing, the spawners in shady attire,
Unbecoming of their thrifty existence,
After all it's one beautiful golden egg,
Wrapped in a quilt and warmer hugs,
The capital of the new enterprise,
Amidst shams would probably rise above,
The heads of the happy, cheerful revelers,
To transform to the comforting, homely shade,
To shield them from the dubious eyes,
The directors of other such enterprises,
To cast a superstitious, evil eye,
A blackish feline on the balance-sheet,
Almost accurate figures of erroneous calculations,
Of the ideas of credit and debit,
Gone irreversibly, horrendously wrong,
Of credits and unrealistic expectation charts,
The 'targets' in jargonic accuracy,
Each pimple absolved on the face of the enterprise,
An obvious rise in the targets set,
Every green-stained report card home,
Aghast and shattered, A certain dive,
The colourful building blocks of youth,
Gradually built the heaving behemoth,
Six-foot tall and head full o' hair,
The barter of life holds every breath,
The final judgement of credit and debit,
The ideal zero and probable profits loom large,
At the frayed ends of their sanity,
And with the strikes of the judgement bell,
Bated breaths now sighs of relief,
As the balance-sheet now tallied to show,
Definite success shines in the pearly whites,
Of the spawners of the enterprise,
Who now shelve mementos of their tryst,
Encased in ubiquitous glasses of shame,
A preserved prepuce and locks of hair,
Tinged golden in some dream of mine,
Still soft as a strand of Kancheepuram silk,
And a jaded trophy of a balance-sheet.

Friday, February 04, 2011

The Persistent Dream

I wonder what it feels in the clouds,
Looking down at the minions below,
Where camaraderie blooms a perfect hue,
Insignia in silver shines on proud,
Of sweat and blood the castles built,
Shielding from the torrential rains,
The grateful minions who hail thy name,
Sing thy praises in morning prayers,
And in a billion dedicated tears,
In the percussive melody of rosary beads,
A heartfelt, graceful genuflection,
I lower my stare, a reverent curtsy,
Blinds my world thy aura divine,
And if I were a tad bit braver,
Or a few leagues sturdier still,
A stairway to my dreams I'd build,
And if my blood like thine did flow,
On clouds I'd seat my exalted self,
And dance as the minions tunefully bellow,
Rhymes in the praise of their saviours!

Tuesday, February 01, 2011

My Rose

How unfortunate am I in love,
I ache with interwoven pangs,
The nectar sweet as summer showers,
In my cupped palms I hold,
Like the sourest grapes of yore,
Helplessly I try to partake the wine,
The thorn that the rosy goblet puts forth,
Punctures my heart to a shattered tale!

The Proposal

The weight of a burden off my chest,
I elegantly let fall,
A stake that I thrust so lovingly,
Through her unassuming heart,
The drops of blood like our minds coalesce,
To clot as a single entity,
We danced in a gardener's delight,
Proud of his hybrid fragrant bloom,
Little did I realize the colossal weight,
An anchor thrown in the wildest sea,
In situ I live my horrid nightmare,
I stare forlorn into the eyes,
On the visage of my grand decadence,
I let an ambiguous salty tear,
Drop into the saline, dead sea.

Her Waltz

A veneer of warmth covered her soul,
Tenderly clutched by determined fists,
I gulped down my better judgement,
With a swig of her summer wine,
Choicest grapes and subtle emotions,
Her subterfuges now floral patterns,
That adorn her enchanting evening gown,
The gyrations of her smallish waist,
A strong, heady brew, a helpless me,
To this waltz I unwittingly sway,
The tune, the harrowing requiem,
And in the breadth of an inch of time,
I manifest within my darkest fears.

Beyond the Veil

I tiptoe into my very own heart,
Beating a rhythmic lub-dub,
Reminiscent of a tender being,
That frequents my desirous nightmares,
A black cape over a silky black coat,
Blinds and binds my remnant senses,
Clouds my conviction with smoky fear,
Strange manifestations, my pinings transform,
To a thriving living form,
And curls quite like a feline scarf,
Around the breadth of my icy feet,
Like mink on a coquette neckline,
In my mind, On my lap her I seat,
To caress the epitome of brood,
Trembling fingers over luxurious hide,
Adorned with zeal and lethargy the same,
And assure myself of her fragility,
My end and my means........