Incredible Fires

Joint Poetry by Venkataraman L.N. and Joseph Kurian

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Yell On The Beach

Joint Poetry by Venkataraman L.N. and Joseph Kurian

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Do Kindly Move

Joint Poetry by Venkataraman L.N. and Joseph Kurian

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Joseph is my student in poetry class. He has a highly imaginative and a beautiful mind. Lovely to work with him on a series of joint poetry production. He is a non-speaking, autistic boy aged 23.

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LET ME THANK YOU

By Charles Robert Lindholm 

I want to take
the celebration of
Thanksgiving Day
here in America
to thank those
all across the
whole wide world
for taking your time
to read my words,

A Note

Hi All, it has been a really long time since I posted poems here. Recently I have been working on making music videos with Covid as the theme blended with my guitar compositions (to whatever extent I know to play). I am posting them in my wordpress page – https://quatrainpoems.wordpress.com/

It is not poetry in written form but then is there any thing that does not have poetry underneath? These music videos are a series as part of 30 days challenge I took on myself.

-Venkat

Static Force

Our hands have become limp.
I guess this is when the leaves fall off the trees.
The Cascade snow fills the reservoir for my home,
but night and day, all I hear about is our rain.

This Feeling of Loneliness

I wrote this poem in Hindi couple of days back.  This is a rarity for me.  Hindi is not my mother tongue and Hindi grammar,  specially keeping track of the change in gender of the subject / object / verb combination is difficult for me.  From time to time I did venture in writing a few.  I translated the poem to Axomiya ( Assamese – my mother tongue)   and to English .  Posting these below with English translation first followed by original Hindi poem and then Axomiya translation.
( In the Assamese translation, the translated word for Eerie ( or strange) is a compound word “Advut”.  Even with my best try, my PC ( Windows 10) will not allow this compound letter/ word to be written properly.  So I was forced to replace it with a synonym, Achahua.  

Eerie this feeling of loneliness
Lips have not kissed the bottle

WOMEN

First published on my blog,www.fleetingmuse.wordpress.com, on March 9, 2016 in honor of International Women’s Day, 2016. This poem was also a part of my “52 weeks journey with the letter “W”, an weekly poem for 52 weeks starting with a word with the alphabet “W”.

Women
Wonder everyday
Where would we be
Without them
Mother,sister,beloved,lover
Wife

Divergent Thoughts: Set of Haikus

In the name of God
Millions tortured, maimed and killed
Still preach the gospel

The prophet of peace
Followers kill in his name
Mute spectators all

LET ME THANK YOU

By Charles Robert Lindholm 

I want to take
the celebration of
Thanksgiving Day
here in America
to thank those
all across the
whole wide world
for taking your time
to read my words,

Wet Feet Are Part Of Life

Worry about me later,
for barbarians are coming over the hills,
carrying long pikes and angry words,
searching for reasoning they do not possess.

My sleepless nights are a gene inside me,
melatonin leached from my skin,
my fascination with the moon, my dark monarch
taking flight to greet the lamps lighted.

Where Are The Clocks?

Where have all the clocks gone?
I cannot tell the time,

not without one strapped to my wrist,
or that rectangular block
producing radiation by my thigh.

Plane Food

Out the window
the
World is a tiny place
and
All of the boundaries disappear

Now we are above the clouds

The World of the Day!

I wondered what the world meant..
Was it the love that people spread?
Or is it the hatred which actually stands?

It’s love, they said,
Which linked all in this den.
But there stood hungry men,
Who craved for the blood of these men!

This World, A Seat

when fires dance in the sky

and eyes linger in deep caves

when snow flows into the heart

palms in love with fired coals

 

Bed of Fingers

dice, on this bed of fingers

found dreams to taste

snuggled soft

in sharp edges of sweet

and in warmth of bitter

Beautiful Happenings

The world is uncertain.
Continents split, needs are denied, hearts stop,
Bridges collapse and rivers flood,
A child can rise from the dead.

Green

When leaves
    see their colors, fragrant
When flowers
    feel their blood, green

When grass
    care not to hold fruits, high
When trees
   envy not lush beds, green

The Owl

The dark hollow
of the silent night
Blew into fires of fiery red
Glowing her tucked wings
In molten fear

The Jungle Book

For the deer, I waited as a lion
To the cheetah, I was too late

For the fish, I shot my eye as a stork
To the kingfisher, I was too late

Sands and Gold

Your world, made of gold
To my eyes, perched on your heart
Squealing chirps, you read as a song
Upon every corner, you hold as a branch
As I come, as I go, with wings uncertain
You hold this freedom, you give
By a home, warm as a nest

Ashes and dust

When I was younger than I am to day
This is what I used to say:
,,When I grow up I want to be a policeman”
Well I didn’t became police just a man
Still I am the same as I was back then
I am still doing everything I can
I’m still loved and I still love
For me that was always enough
But now I am older I am seeing more
I See things I used to ignore
Back in the day when I watched sesamestreet
When I didn’t know a heart could bleed

Emptiness

Look, how empty you are
Your eyes, slipping into my world
measure the notes, I play not
Your ears, holding your love
read colors in the dark

How Long, How Long

how long, how long
would we bounce on

Fires

fires beget fires
and we melt as poles
of wax

Look At Those Books

Look at those quiet books around
camouflaged in clothes of brown dust
crumbled into their own garments
blown into particles of aged winds

Creepy Cups

those moments we hold
into our steel hard grip
people, clay cups in hand
to sip one’s tea in pleasure
and throw when worn out

Signs of Spring

The earth drinks in any sign of spring.
The warmth of the sun so welcoming.