പഴകുകയും പ്രാര്‍ത്ഥിക്കുകയും ചെയ്യുക

ചിതല്‍ വരുന്നത്‌ ചിലപ്പോള്‍

മണ്ണിലൂടെയും മനസ്സിലൂടെയുമാണ്‌.

മണ്ണില്‍ അവ പാകപ്പെടുത്തുന്ന വ്യവസ്ഥ

അവയ്ക്ക്‌ സമാധാനം നല്‍കുന്നു.

പഴകുകയും പ്രാര്‍ത്ഥിക്കുകയും ചെയ്യുക

എന്ന ഒരു ദ്വന്ദം അവയുടെ

കാലത്ത മന്ദമാക്കുന്നു.

ഒരു ധൃതിയുമില്ല എനത്‌ ഒരു സ്വയം പൂര്‍ണമായ

യാത്രതന്നെയാണ്‌.

എന്നാല്‍ നമ്മെ ചിതല്‍ വന്നു

മൂടുന്നത്‌ ചിന്തിക്കുകയും ചിരിക്കുകയും

സ്നേഹിക്കുകയും ചെയ്യുമ്പോഴാണെന്നത്‌

ഒരു വിഡ്ഢിച്ചിരിയില്‍പ്പോലും ഒതുങ്ങുന്നില്ല.

മനസ്സില്‍ അവ വന്നാല്‍ പിന്നെ

എല്ലാ മറക്കാന്‍ തോന്നും.

മറക്കുന്നില്ല.

മരിക്കുകയാണ്‌ ഓര്‍മ്മകള്‍.

ഓര്‍മ്മകള്‍ നിരുപദ്രവകാരികളാണ്‌.

എങ്കിലും നമുക്ക്‌ അവയെ പ്രേമിക്കാം .

കാരണം ചിതലുകള്‍ക്ക്‌ ഓര്‍മ്മകളെ വേണം.

വെറും പൂവ്‌

ഒരു പൂവ്‌ വിരിയുകയാണ്‌,

ഒരു മുന്‍ വിധിയുമില്ലാതെ.

ഒരു കാറ്റില്‍ ഒരു പ്രണയം,

ഒരു ചലനത്തില്‍ ഒരു കവിത-

ഇതൊന്നും ഉന്നമല്ല.

ശരിക്കും ഓഹരി വിപണിയും

ഡോളര്‍ വിലയും നോക്കി പൂത്താല്‍

എന്താണെന്ന് ചെടികള്‍ ചിന്തിക്കുന്ന

ഈ കാലത്ത്‌ പൂവ്‌ ഒരു സന്ദേശമോ

സൂചനയോ ഒന്നുമല്ല.

വെറും പൂവാണത്‌.

വെറുതെയും പൂക്കാം.

മഹാപ്രസ്ഥാനം

പൂക്കളില്‍ വളരെക്കാലം
താമസിക്കുന്ന പൂമ്പാറ്റകളുണ്ട്‌.
ചിലപ്പോള്‍ അവ പുറത്തുവരും
അവ ഭാഷയറിയാതെ കാറ്റില്‍
പാറിപ്പറന്ന ശേഷം വീണ്ടും
പൂക്കളിലേക്ക്‌ തന്നെ തിരിച്ചു പോകുന്നു.
ഇതിനെ മഹാപ്രസ്ഥാനം
എന്ന് വിളിക്കാമോ?

Corpse – poem by m k harikumar


How many times has he lain dead.
Many times he even stood dead.
He did not have to be told
As to how he should turn dead
At home, office and before kids.
He did it as a matter of course
He succeeded at it many a time
And no one noticed even when he failed.

Not for nothing it has become
An obsession with him, for,
It was a option better for him.

And he maintained his being
Excited and voracious in speaking
Of international and scientific issues.
Even while on a bus, he bounced on anyone
who just got leaned on his shoulders,
however, inadvertent the man was.
All the while, he had a rare faculty
Of hiding the fact that he was a corpse.
But when he lay dead,
he didn’t feel anything unusual.
It’s all sheer repetition.

But he had his composure poised, thinking
That he wouldn’t be asked to be dead gain.

If ever be alive, it has to be like this.

That Leopard -poem by m k harikumar


That leopard surfaced
First from a textbook.
When there is none to look after,
It is natural for any beast
To go for some make overs.

It is a kind of redemption
For them to be off the paper,
For they need not be scared
Of poets and their verses.
Such ineffectual beasts like these-
Ones with no idea how to feed on grass-
Would be happy moving around
And go describing their times
with the textbooks. Of course,
that is what their pastime is.

Sadly though, our literary critiques
At our abodes of learning
Remind us of these tigers!!!

A Day-poem by m k harikumar

A Day comes before us
Cleansed up and fresh.
It tells us not to worry.
It’s a message that
every moment is yours.

The lives, which we refurbish
In some unknown times,
are a musing.
And, at times, when we forget
We all become different fast.
The difference is in our minds.

That difference is when
We leave behind
nothing with none!

Rain-It’s the same ever – poem by m k harikumar

Rain. It kept on and on,
Sans any more emotions.
And on its way forward
No sign of man it did find.

Rain didn’t imagine anything.
But it just went on pouring in
As if it was up against all symbols
Still, it wasn’t able to see anyone.

Rain is a constant flow:
It never ever changes
Nor takes any refinement.
Even pouring, for ages thro’,

She who sells oranges-poem by m k harikumar

She came down
to a super-specialty street
to sell oranges.

The street kids who were sate
with too much oranges
had her skinned like an orange.

And they even had her dress off her
Just for the orange colour.
Without smelling or feeling it
They wrapped her face
With that yellow drape.

And for the red, the kids
went for her inner wears.
Still not feeling satiated
They exerted her breasts
and bled them out to their fill.

Who ever wasn’t able to scribble in
What all letters of their personal prowess
Right on her tongue!!!!
At last the sour and bitter
she spate out, alas,
did not have any colour.

Out of their dealings of alphabets,
Beguiling all the other colours,
she somehow learnt a thing or two.

It is with a little primitive fear
and anxiety that she learnt those scripts of the ancient tribes

The Tigers -poem by m k harikumar


Those tigers go to the river
In groups, and drink water
and raise their heads in unison.

When they fall upon some prey
They eat it the same way, together.
But before this rare fiat
They would look at each other
As if they were up for a race.
They defecate together too.

However, they do not know how to eat.
But their master must keep them spoon-fed.
Thus roaring, mating, begetting, together,
and voicing lofty ideals in between
They kept on indulging themselves there.

The global committee constituted to study–
How man and woman could take a stance,
To claim for maternity allowances
and try vasectomy at the same time,
all the while stay cohabiting,
And thus bring in a closed world of theirs–
Has come in search of these tigers straight.

And these tigers stood
taking great pride, and laughed:
Describing their rare sterility
and the asexually obsequious humility
As an honour of some rare order.

The stink that laughter emitted
Left the whole ambience rejuvenated.

Then they thought ‘it makes sense’, somehow,
To manipulate their way into some textbooks.
They needn’t be afraid of anyone, in that case.

The best way to tide over
Chengaras* of any order
Is to be silent and sleeping deeply,
By reading every trash of news:
They took a firm resolve.

Chengara*

A state-citizen land dispute in Kerala which took proportions beyond civilized human endurance and comprehension. The State, instead of protecting the life and property of the citizens, took an inhuman stance wrecking untold misery to the affected poor.

Tigers don’t bite -poem by m k harikumar

Tigers don’t bite these days.
Instead they keep on coming
In search of zoos thinking,
It is better be living in cells.

At a time when biting and roaring
Are of no value, to be all out en masse΄
in search of tigers is revolutionary.

And what is breaking news today?
It’s the tigers’ effort to be a neo breed.
By being not biting and not roaring.

They went on seeking fresher traits
Even in their eating and sleeping patterns.
They broke lighter moments with kids
And mistook themselves to be a newer race.

Even when kids groped deep in their mouths
They did not bite, but just laughed assuredly.
And their fight now is to invent pseudo jokes.

Thus they fell upon a major finding
That there is not a self-indulging thing
As much pleasing as realizing that
they themselves are a laughing stock.

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