Monday, November 18, 2013

Short Story: A wooden livelihood

A curtain crumbled and spread out on the floor. The light rays came out in silence. They glanced at the earth and its thundering tunnels. Not many people were around the place. They found the children skinny and sober. None wanted to take them home. Pinch of salt, pound of advise, they heaped on them. They stood with the aging chair next to their abhorrent abode. People could not wait any longer. They left the light rays and went on to the evening darkness. Faded by the past, they became smaller and smaller. They marched with the ants and all the species on the nether lands. Chair stood next to their village of luminescence and found it curious. It began to grow its legs and leaves. People became pillar and post around the humble feat of a wooden livelihood.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Poem: Mermaid of miseries

Vaguest of the moments
Vaulted in the veneers
A veneer of his veins
A mermaid chose to steal its soul

She ran into a coil of herself
Only morning was upside
In the mourning of a mermaid
Its progeny has overheard
The lessons of a shipwreck
The songs of a crystal moth

The mermaid was a mad cow
A miserable thing of angst
A mild sense of serenity
A mellowing season of soberness




She evolved in disdain
She revered her pale roots
She caved her breast of illness
She gazed at blind bloods
She was found among the branches
Of pale old banyan trees
That mongered the fate of deserted temples
That minced the shape of kernels

She was never a case for corals
She was found in sediments
Of age old walls and molten bricks
She pierced her beliefs in person
She punished the house in poison
Worms are left, wickedness is lost

Wish her your miseries
Weave her a silk of your dried up tears
As she shall be the mermaid of miseries ever

Thursday, September 26, 2013

How IBM Watson helped me select the right mobile apps : A science fiction


This is a fictional narrative on cognitive mobiles. With Supercomputers like +IBM Watson, cognitive computing has become an immediate reality. Can these cognitive computers solve our real life problems and confused mind? This article presents a dream where a man's misery with mobile app is resolved with the help of a cognitive computer!

Please read more and share your thoughts at http://ibm.co/1bHDRyb

Friday, September 13, 2013

Poem: How to dine in a dizzy street

This season of idols and icons
When rains are random and revered
When I know evening is never even to all
When my wife went to hometown
I went for a passive dinner a little afar

A photo by giancarlo de luca: under non-commercial license.
















Love for noise
Love for gaze
Love for traffic
Love for crowd
Random thoughts guided me in bumpy road
It welcomed my grumpy stumpy thoughts

I am silenced by fading shades of faces
I am stoned to the fuming walls

On every second eateries
People gazed away their dinner
Chewing them like muted cows of unknowns

On the other side walks
I found them swallowing like snakes too
I found them dumping their stomach 
They were jerks and ill in my terms

The first group was silent and detached
Food was a passage of their thoughts

The second was vocal and enchanted
Food was a just a passage for blood and flesh

Both the groups were so muted
Their shadows were more vocal and hungry

Everywhere I saw crowd and chaos
But all of them were silent and tied to an order
An order so invisible and invincible
At least by this stagnant moments of night

By the time I finished my dinner
I was hurrying home
To cook my brain once again
To feed some crows waiting somewhere

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Poem: Story Of a Fortune Cookie

How to write a poem
On the walls of a fortune cookie






















When you know you have a sea at heart
It equals sleeping on a blast furnace
Or perhaps like on the shore of an oil spill
That kills many stomach bleeding food
That wipes out many more organs of desire
That wraps up untold stories of misery
That never weeps to the worrying seaweeds

It weaves a lovely edible lattice
It leads me to a meadow of meshes and circuits
It holds myriads of nice words and weaves

In its crystalline lovely lattice
That shines beneath an iron sheath
I saw a purple pupil that I love lost
It was like a night even where stars lose sheen

In the dried up moments
I went for a chase in my hometown
I went in a summer equinox
Running away from blanket of nightmares
Like a hunter for shades and shadows

I know not any art of spiders
To cave all the emoticons and laugh
Every inch and pinch of salt
It is a fortune cookie

Every pine and pillars
It is a magic lamp
It landed on a sea
And spill over like a magic cube
It went up to a highway hill
Stood up like a lightening love
It knows not any oil spills
That has blindfolded its breathing wishes

I know this will not stand as a poem for any
I know this is not versified in any senses
I know this has lost its rhythm for many songs
I know this is a broken chain of words

Now I know where all these fortune cookies are meant to be
Now I need to buy a market to trade their lovely lattice and labor lost
Now I never will sing a song for ring roads of their mermaids and heavens
Now I dare to call upon the stars that stare at this son of black magic

When the story meets its creator
Every fortune cookie will have its meat
And then it will drink from its own vine yards

+Gokul Alex 

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Poem: Young lady and the Sea










Young lady and the sea
They began a journey
In the crust of a daily mountain

Their own nimbus clouds
They soaked the earth of their own
Veins they bleed, Voids they loved
They were countless in roots and soils

Young lady walked across the shores
She could share her eyes for all the waves to come
Yet she stared at a beacon of men
Yet she stood for the caving emotions

Waves were mad and melodious
They found her young
In their wilderness they embraced her feet
Open skies where they meet
Olive leaves where they meet

Sea was full of naked weeds and algae
A gaze through the waters
A gale of the mirrors
They carved songs beyond
Ocean was waking up to the winds

Young lady and the sea
They kept their distance
At respectable ends
They traveled in parallels and prisms
They waved their hands
At miserable moments

Young lady and the sea
They loved one earth
Their songs and blood
They were ashes and clouds
Young lady and the sea

+Gokul Alex 

Friday, August 2, 2013

Poem: Land of Commoners

Commoners, we commoners
Coiners, we coiners
Our eyes, feverish eyes, they were fond of slit and slings
Our peaks, senile peaks, they found solace in sewage

Our eyes, their roller coaster rides
In the streets with uncommon winds
Stranger to self, those eyes were glittering cold
Blood of sheen, Bath of Beams
We found a street full of mesh and mistakes

Pity our eyes, Pity their lens
For they never reflect the truth of the nerves

Eyes: born are they mirrors to be
Eyes: bound are they lies to be
Eyes: burned are they bound to be
Eyes: beamed are they babies to be

All around the body we adored them
commoners, we commoners
coiners, we coiners

We charmed the other darkness
Where eyes could hide from walls and walls

Flies like a fish market, Filth like a rodent canals
Fumes like a failed chimney,

Eyes, they counted the uncountable
Eyes, they coined the clutter and clusters
Eyes, they cursed the silence and the silenced
Eyes, they creature the calmness and callous

Commoners, we commoners
Cohorts, we cohorts
Cosmos in coins, they coined the world
Eyes of them, Ever circling the uncommon winds

+Gokul Alex 

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Poem: A Lizard in a Garden

A Lizard in a Garden

Fresh of life
Is not lost in wild
It comes near and dear
And a lizard is born in a garden

It turned coats and spells
It skinned by instincts
Aimed the walls
But never surmounted them
Born as a reptile
Brave as a snake
Primitive of the forms

And now it bridged my silence
And now it spaces my mist

Lizard in the greens
Lizard with black dotted skin
It just was a passer by
On my way to a Tuesday morning

Neither of us where bothered of each other
Like other humans too
We crossed each other, lest nor stared and frowned
We mean each other, least by life of our own
We make space for each other, in verticals of time

Lizard in a plastic garden
It was just as amused as I am
Seeing the lusty winds
Lure of money, Lost smiles

Lizard was a wizard, I know for sure
Time was his slave, Space was his circuit

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Poem: A Farmer's Eyes and a Sailor's Shadow

A thorough yield
On a farm field of far east
It took me time to realize
How far I am to my far east of coast

Call of my weather
Call of my winds
I sailed further and farther
To my naked coasts
Naive songs, Nimble rains
Nile of rivers, Nascent clouds

Reaching this far
I kissed my earth
Ground of my grief
Glory of my ghosts
Glad is those leaves
However scanty they are

Cast is my shadows
No longer they hide
My colors and my figures
They cast numbers on stars
Measure their light
Scope my winters
Scale my summers
Scanty my rains
Scuttle I wish my springs

Now let me see my greens
Their leveling heights
Their leafy gaze
Their spiderly gesture
Their primordial texture
Now let me be slow
In company of my greens

#Poem by +Gokul Alex

Rain of Senses, Ripples of Time

Rain of Senses, Ripples of Time - My Poem published in PoetrySoup.com: 

Long sheath or shadow, it is so fragile and delicate

I am in , I am out, yet I know 
it is so much there 
It is wrecked like an unwanted ship, incline to my thoughts 

I am in, I am out 
like a child for an eternal womb 
I am wild, I am wolf, for a dancing forest of many ages 

Senses are glued to it, as it resonates my songs 
All I know is it has waves, periods, cycles, rains, seasons and songs too

We know it by pale ripples 
And the wrinkled faces of all those mirrors 

Time, its stealthy wishes 
They stood next to my horrible evenings 
I mediatate, I contemplate, I vision, I corrupt, I collect

I kill My senses, My lovable lusty mind and body
And their unknown roots and leaves
Yet they live and know, die and unlearn all by itself 

When I ripple, I crawl and I cry in the songs of time 
And you see just and must, a little echoes and ripples in time

Friday, June 14, 2013

Poem: Nature and Eye

What is to live a life without smile
When he gazed at me I just saw an eye to eye
I, and this world are seeing each other
Eye, and this world, both mutant, are seeing this world

In his oddities, in his feverishness
In his sunrise, in his suntan
In his summer, in his songs
I see a silent giant of past

From strange self to self estranged
I traverse a land of kites
From head to tail, waves alone

Where is to hide from this world of disguise
Where there is no fading meadows
Where there are no loving nests
Where there is only one abode left

Keeping an eye closer to chest
I ventured a stalking night
I pierced my own darkness and pains
I pitied my own thorns of flesh

How do they talk to my other
How do they eye my shadows
Do they really see my distant dreams

Nature and I, we see each other
Nature and I, we saw each other
Nature and I, we steal each other
Nature and I, we step in to each other
And that brings me home to the land of kites

+Gokul Alex 

Monday, June 10, 2013

Poem: When I wake up as a Chess board !

This may have ended up as a puzzle
Or a game of chances lost in past
Or a maze of doors locked in between
Or a face of jumbled senses and ages
But I have set a few secret questions
Of a PoetQuest, Of an Intellect Explorer

... I gaze and whisper like a wicked ship

When I wake up
I may be a myth of oceans
I may hold my breathing tree
I may swap my will to pieces

When I kindle my spirits
I may have lost its sheen
I may have weathered a blindness
I may become a rattling snake
I may spite poison or ashes
I may turn coat and wind my needles

When I behold my tongue
I must have lost my love for answers
I must have lost my urge to question
I must have lost my repulse to regrets
I must have lost my naked skins
I must have lost my purple wishes

When I bask in memories of mist
I should pay back my solitude
I should shrink my veins
I should crush my irons
I should fresh my fist
I should flesh my love

Else for all and others in time
I am a chess board of nine lives
Seven colors and just two lives left

+Gokul Alex 

Saturday, June 8, 2013

Poem: When the Rain Bleeds Red

I know a color which we call red
But I see only blood and flowers around

Here again rain bleeds red, shivering skins
Spell bound witches, Silent Myths, Streams of August

I see a leaf of life which all of us eat as green
But I know only when it kisses ground and turn pale

Mirrors yet again, who is the culprit?
My time, My space, My face, My facades

Rivers again, full of anger and mist
Why should I step into the waters again?

I tried a life of all sorts in a palette
Now fallen asleep in frozen pictures

Why do they dry my eyes?
When I am ready to iron out the differences

Open ends of a Golden knife
They turn coat at every cross roads

I bought them at large
Larger than life, longer than my breath, lesser than my lips

Now I know all the colors
They never lied to me, Nor they will ever

The palette is blank yet again
Last time it was born as a Blanket of love

In the summer of idylls, when the rain bleeds love
When the silence breeds itself, another shell ruptures

+Gokul Alex 

Sunday, May 5, 2013

Poem: Dear all women, You made me write again and again

Dear all women, You made me write again and again
Not about beauty, not about beasts, but about my self
And the origin of my silence, snakes, silos and stillness
How much ever fast I ran, you caved my self, selflessly

I searched your depths in my gaze, in your glance, in our trance
But all fell out of shape, like a gazoid, like a river that speaks for itself
Your language of love, your symbols of seduction, your systems of life
These words may be pending for a long time, long due or long rustic

Poems are written, lost and left behind, same like the river of leaves
That gets rotten in the bread of brown grey wooden ground
I saw many roots, hanging in the wretched skins of my arms
I sketched wrecked ships of my golden past
Poems to pencils, Words to Worms, Purple to Pupil
All are an act of Engines of growth through the Pictures of life

Many roads covered, from love to lust, dream to desire
Arrogance to ambivalence, words to willows, papers to carbon capacitors
I still shiver when a pale glass window opens in front of me

A paper cup and a torus of ladders, they came back in time
And I stood by their wishes, their long beards, their stale wishes
Their history melt before mine, though I am alone, and they wander in mine
I have their fight in my mirrors, the mirrors that I name, call, scream and spit my gaze 
And I know that they never shapes up itself

Dear all woman, I borrow your silence, your strength and your sarcasm
On my ways, On my days, On my rays, On my wooden willows of whims and wickedness

 +Gokul Alex 

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Why I love a White Noise!

A crowd so white
I searched everywhere
Found none but noises white and grey


Why I wish for a crowd
to stamp my head to ground?
And make me realize the taste of soil
Its soild pills, stale heat, and still roots
Once again for ever

I know once I held my head
high as a flag
in whitewashed castles
floating as a kite

Now I need to kneel
Down under my feet
I love to crawl once again
At least once like a snake
If not a gentle silver lizard
And to predict the lies
And to erase the truths

I preyed in my own darkness
It is all white now
White as in white noise
Grey as in grey cells
Black as in black boxes
Green as in green games
Yellow as in pale yellows
But ends meet on a white noise

#Gokul

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Wonder that is a Woman

Wonders of her mind :
She unfolded like a little rain
That was waiting for my weathers
She entangled my eyes with silky words
May be I was a rain-forest before

Only to wish a better morning
I wished her sweet dreams
Not knowing the cast of plays
that web her dreams and nights
that cast a shadow on her eyes
that craves for humble waters
that coils round the hands of a little child

Behind the whys and ifs of her
I found a little child
woke up so early in her nights
silent so late in her songs
half said, half being unwritten

Wonders in her little breath
That Only she knows
Wonders in her special smiles
Wonders in her web of questions
It is a journey called woman
That I venture now and ever
From the origin of silence
Through the mist and oak woods
Through the valleys of wishes
Through the silky words and snakes of charm

She herself was a wonder to her
In her web of questions
In her closed ends of skies
In her unknown knots
In her spellbound dreams
I am just a traveler

For her, her childhood and her future
Wonder that is a woman
No wonder why I still wander in her silence

Wonders of her words:
A woman is a woman
Godard* said
Wonder that is woman
No body said, as far as I know

We make stories on her
As if she is a headless coin
That we can toss forever

We believe she is shallow like a song
We believe in her imminent depths
So as to cross her forever

Wonder that is woman
Why do you need her mysteries
When she herself has no stories of her own
All she needs is a mist in your days
All she love is a song in her little roads 

#Gokul Alex
-------------------------------------------------
* Jean Luc Godard - A French Film Maker 

Monday, March 25, 2013

Fire knows nothing ...

Every fire will meet its end
A perpetual sea of ashes

Every fire will see its tongue
A shivering leaf of love

Every fire will eat its own meat
A soliloquy of hate and love

Every fire will embrace its death
A bond of darkness in some valleys

Every fire will shine its own skin
A graveyard is born every second

Every fire knows not its meaning
A pain and a few flowers become ash

Every fire will hide in its chimneys
When it sails past its desires

Every fire is irrational, impulsive and crawling
As it knows its origin of hunger and lust

#Gokul

Sunday, March 10, 2013

An Ode to Darkness


A pitch blend
A carbon black
A lead pebble
A curl of roots and leaves
A radiant jewel of beaches
A curse of blindfolded wisdom
A mind of wrinkled viscera
A myth of worms and walkers
I know various colors of darkness
I know they pity them
That I knew them never before

My eyes ever loved the red
Even the seaweeds were rose petals underneath
I know they laugh at me
When I shy away at their dark bloods now

Odor of black
Order of melancholy
Odd tints of mud
Ordains of minced meats
Ornamental rituals
Orifices of blood and fury
Even dark leaves of olive
Elliptical curves of iris
Eclipse of the daring moon
Enigma of the dying mountains
Energy of the clouding ashes
I know they play with me now
When I wanted them to silence my foes

Darkness never fails its preys
Darkness never feels its depths
Darkness never perishes at nights
Darkness never ages with lights
Darkness never climbs any mountains
Darkness never mourns at any death
As it knows only to survive its days and dreams

#Gokul

Saturday, March 9, 2013

They Pie my life

Be it a pen and paper
                 They pie my life
                 They make my weathers
      
Different vegetation
Their high-low
Variant temperature
Evening sickness

Among the reasons, ruthless
For a clueless morning

Missed a voyage
When I departed a graveyard

Among the reasons, ravaging
For a cold blood winter

I count my steps, sickles, and sweat-skins
To every other lies and mountains
They move indeed
Along with your eyes and beliefs

Not a Jesus, be born again
To surmount your lies and lows

#Gokul

Heavens, I, Deny

My life
         My surface of life
                              My smiles of life
                                               My horizons of cliffs
I try not to hurt you
            At least by my words
                         They lip my love
                                 My live my life

I departed those clouds
                 that figured leaves
                        of disjointed heavens

I deny the sickness of those carriages
                whatever name you call it
                wherever you baptize them holy
                let that be whitewashed churches too!

A wrinkled face writes to me
A wrinkled face I see on all
                 my mirrors, not by ages
                 but by anger and angst
                 whichever of them is born first
                 though I never know
                 yet, heavens, I, deny that you own my clouds
#Gokul

Chavez, my words for you

Mr. Chavez,
               I don't have any flowers for you

You lead a nation, I know
You spoke a lot, I heard
You were a TV Star, I saw
You scolded Bush, I loved
You teased Obama, I laughed

But
     Your antics and acts carried mysteries, I think
     Your actions and orders were verbose, I felt

A pack of lies, you covered
A baggage of power, you loved
A mirror of glamour, you loved

Yet
     A nation that I love, you loved
     A nation that I love, you lead
    
Mr.Chavez,
             I have only tears for you 

#Gokul

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Blood, Sand and Mist

I blood, sand and mist
              They red, sane and eat
My veins, self and hungry self

I blood, sand and mist
Ahead of my head, around my sound, at least my zest

Blood, sand and mist,
Where do they meet?
When do they meet?
Why do they meet?
By birth, by death and by depth and deceit

Blood for the bath
Sand for the soul
Mist for the miseries
I carry them forward from left to right
Rinsing my illness of lies

I blood, sand and mist
I stay irritant, hesitant and reluctant
Throwing the words, Shielding the eyes, gazing the gales

Blood of life, I love
Sands of time, I travel
And mist of mistakes, I celebrate
All for one and one for all

Original flowers, Oak forests, Odd calenders
They unite our wishes
Our blood, our sand and our mist

#Gokul

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

From Macbeth to Othello: A Song for all the Blood Bathers


A Song for all the Blood Bathers

This poem is born out of pure anguish on a system where we embrace the illusions and deny the realities. This verse has a lot of pretexts, named blood bathers' and has no particular context as this will define and redefine the context... Please continue to read!

At least I know, the value of my sweat
That it never stinks
Even if it is as old as my memories
Even if it is as deep as my wounds
Even it is wiped out of my bones
Even when it is ironed out of my skull

At least I know the pain of my eyes
When they return a moist and wind
When they roam islands for miles and hours
When they blink endless like mermaids
When they blind me with mulititudes

At least I know the pain of my words
When they are only harsh at my loved ones
When they have to be sweetened for my foes
When they have to be coated for all sort of crooks
When they have to be licked for all those leeches

At least I miss the breathing second for a while
Though I exist and continue to exist
Knowing that I exist and I continue to perish
Unknowing that I perish and continue to exist

At least I know I am moving beyond all horizons
Because Sea has never been so vast
Because Shores have never been so narrow
Because Streets have never been so silky
Because Snakes have never been so plenty

At least now you know
that I am not blind like an owl
that I don't dig like a mice
that I dont't degenerate like a soil
that I don't despair like a lover
thatt I don't believe in your lies
that I don't see any cages ahead
that I have words at my mercy
that I can sketch my wounds
that remember to forget
that I forget to remember

#Gokul [  Read, Rationalize, Revolutionize ]

Friday, March 1, 2013

A Brother for all ...

He carries himself
A wilderness
A vivid voice
Mother of all his thoughts
Is way beyond, beyond all bondages

A fire will never catch fire
It will never wait
           For others
                       To quench its thirst

No hunger
             No hallucinations
All by itself

He carries himself
                   A vivid voice
His eyes
            So sharp and shaped

And my brother. Abey ...
               All by himself
               Is a brother for all ...

#Gokul

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Wandering Words!

A sea of thoughts
They just invaded my self
So selfish in their unison
Perishing waves 
Weaving another spell
They just asked my pardon
And I lent my time and ears

Color of dreams
They were unknown
When I melt into the darkness
Pinned down forests 
Just a fog of stillness 

There are only texts
Sheltered on walls
Hidden caves
And stakes for truth
Flattened lies equaled them

Lintels of shadow
Ghosts of gleam
Words just entered my skull
Worms like curl everywhere

Rewards of arrows
Are just a piece of chest
Just a pierce of love
Just a coerce of lust
Just a farce of zest
And many more bones and marrows

Wide wheels of life
They were not mere circles
But crude eclipses and mystery
And they remain wet as tears

Helpless words again
They mouthed my self
Moths of smile all over
My walls waited for a carve

Running down a senile mountain
Meeting a kite of wisdom
Slipping another dream
It began to weather another smile
All alone for a vagabond fire!

#-------Gokul ---------------#

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

City of Thoughts

It would have been a simpler poem
When purple met its sunlit shores
If thoughts were not still and stoned

It would have been a romance of kites
When winds were hiding in his wings
If he was a bird by birth

But he is not a poet 
And his ground was not stolen either
And he is round the roads together

Pale thoughts, Palette grained out
Canvas exist, Colors exit, Yes, they just exist
And he had exits in all corners, office, house, lanes

Green browns, Black Greys, White Reds,
Red Yellows, Blue Whites, Brown Yellows
They made his day full of blends
In between them, he and his thoughts
All at once, One for all

Sunday, January 27, 2013

Sifting in Time ...

A turn coat
A refuge to wisdom
A simmering rain
All these words are never cast away

Fury of clouds
First of the fumes
Filling violets
All that we see are better distant for ever

Primal fears
Past of primes
Provoking a madness
All that I face are never oneness alone

Calmness of breath
Callous winds
Crest of the beams
All that I build are just minutes alive

Minute eyes
Monologues in misery
Mirrors of lust
All that I envy are just minted together

Jaded faces
Jocular murmurs
Justice of time
All that I rave are curling in beds

Snakes of sunlight
Snails of twilight
Sellers of Surprise
All that I hate are sailing a wreckage

Here again
Holding a hand
Huskers of humble lands
All that we dream are just hushing away

From left to right
Spiders and spiders alone
Sifting in time
Sweating in vain
A colossal fear 
A spinning mountain
Knows why it exist 

#Gokul

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

ചെറിയ ലോകങ്ങളുടെ കാവല്‍ക്കാരന്‍ ...

1
ഒരു കടുക് മണിയുടെ നിശബ്ദത
അതിന്റെ പുറകെ ഞാന്‍ സഞ്ചരിച്ചു

ചെറിയ ലോകങ്ങളില്‍ നിഴലുകള്‍ ഉണ്ടാവുമോ
ആ കടുക് മണിയോട് ചോദിച്ചു

ഒരു നെടുനീളന്‍ തെരുവിനെ കാണിച്ചു
അതിന്റെ കുറുകെ ഒരു പെരുമ്പാമ്പ്‌
അതും നിശബ്ദം

വലിയ ലോകവും വലിയ മരങ്ങളും
അതിലും വലിയ നിഴലുകളും
ചെറിയ കുങ്കുമ പൊട്ടു പോലുള്ള മനുഷ്യരും ഉള്ള നിമിഷങ്ങള്‍

2
സ്വപ്നങ്ങളുടെ നെരിപ്പോടുകള്‍
അത് ഒരു ബാധ്യത ആയിരുന്നു
ഇനിയും ഉപമകള്‍ക്ക് പ്രസക്തി ഉണ്ടെന്നു തോന്നുന്നില്ല

3
ഒരു നേര്‍ വര വരച്ചാല്‍ അതില്‍ നൂറു നൂറു വളവുകള്‍
അതിലേറെ പ്രശ്നം വൃത്തങ്ങള്‍
ബിന്ദുക്കള്‍ അദൃശ്യവും മാന്ത്രികവും ആയിരിക്കുന്നു

കണ്ണുകളുടെ പ്രശ്നം അവരൊന്നും കാണുനില്ല എന്നതാണ്
എപ്പോഴും കണ്ണുകള്‍ ചിതിച്ചു കൊണ്ടേയിരിക്കുന്നു
അതുകൊണ്ട് തന്നെയാണ് ഗര്‍ത്തങ്ങളില്‍ അപായം പതിയിരിക്കുന്നത്‌

പലപ്പോഴും കത്തി പടരുന്ന വനാന്തരങ്ങളില്‍
സത്യങ്ങള്‍ ചരങ്ങളായി തീരുന്നില്ല
ഉരഗങ്ങള്‍ക്കൊപ്പം അവരും സഞ്ചരിക്കുന്നു