She invited me to make love. I went (that was of the past) before I became saved. I felt too nervous and ashamed and failed to get an ecstasy. Twice she invited me and I traveled half away and came back. Now she invited me again. She was fascinated by me the poet. I did not bother to communicate. There stands my adultery as coming to an end. I praise God for making me flee from temptations.
Master of the
To me ….
Me from danger
You are Master
I give all
Help me live
As the person
You want ….
I love thee
Words like Lincoln, Wednesday and grateful have eccentric spellings quite unlike their pronunciation. May be the makers of these words had too much beer in their bellies.
When Jesus was crucified he was cruelly adorned with a crown of thorns. Crown of thorns as an idiom means a period of fortune, prosperity and success.
I was traveling by car and then I was able to watch a gigantic cut-out about a newspaper and it said: ‘we have increased our readership to millions—we are Kerala’s most trusted newspaper. I wondered amused and thought that the 4th estate is a manufacturing industry giving cud to chew for the masses.
I have wandered across the archipelago of South East Asia. Among the course of wandering I fell in love with many exotic women. I love the clove cigarettes, duck roast, grill fish and sambal (a mixture made from chilies, shallot and lime). I miss these islands very much. Yes, if time and money perch in my pockets and then it would be fine.
How they streak
Across the sky
Lifting the veils
Of my melancholic
How they dance
In Cosmic delight
Of the soul’s
Ode to Psyche
You melodious flight—
A nirvana of ecstasy—
A dance of the soul—
Music on wings—
A colored harp—
In you I’ve
Beauty and Art
You echo a dream of passion/
Love’s magic fountain/
My wife’s night is spent in watching the news, celebrity gossip, TV Serials and commercials. She is a couch potato.
I am also a couch potato but my tastes are remarkably different. I lie on the bed ruminating about visiting famous art galleries—about my favorite artists like Van Gogh, Picasso and Dali. I would also love to travel to exotic places and fever my pen with exciting relish. I have also the joy of sharing thoughts on Philosophy, Poetry and Fiction.
Yes couch potatoes are stunningly different.
The Book Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie is banned in India for its blasphemy for the Muslims. However, to my happiness, I got one smuggled out of Canada. It lay in my shelf for many years without being read. The day I picked it up for reading, my conservative wife told she has consumed it to the flames. I wonder why Indians are raising such a hullaballoo for a book.
Epistemic Fusion gave birth out of my own thinking and my interactions with 8th 9th and 10th graders. Their science and social science textbooks depict an onslaught of a mechanistic, scientific and rationalistic worldview. All these world views are presented as half baked formulas. I wondered how to maneuver and not ruffle the feathers of their already established Theo-centric worldview. I became a tight-rope-walker not disturbing their water of faith and let them adjust to both the worldviews. This I call as Epistemic Fusion a term I got from Foucault’s epistemic rupture.
In this essay, I would like to focus on the various forms of poetry and not the types about which there is plenty of narratives.
The forms of poetry are nature poems, sentimental poems and cathartic poems.
What are nature poems? Poems describing the soul of nature are nature poems. The emotion of the poet penetrates into the inanimate world and re-echoes nature as a personification. Visual imagery of nature is transmuted as an echo of the poet’s soul. Objects are rendered with beatific nuances. Here are some examples. Stones breathe with a soul. The brook murmurs with passion. Flowers blossom in the nectar of verse. Mountains echo a music in pulchritude. Rivers wander into erotic depths. The sky resonates as a twinkling ornament. Butterflies dance as a musical symphony. Thunder roars with rage. Waves frolic in mirth. Oceans shudder in orgasmic ecstasy. The flower that blossomed is a delicate heart. Lightning streaks pink with desire. Ecstasy you are a gorgeous fruit. Wind has the soul of art. Mist is a mystic’s beard. Birds are gay when they are dancing with nature’s tunes. Trees radiate sparkling voices in splendor. Radiance you are a twinkling eye of the night. Green trees are a banquet of nature. Birds sing in good cheer. Honey is the nectar of music. The chorus of rain is heavenly music.
The next classes of poems are sentimental poems. They are resonances of the soul. They speak with beatitudes of the heart. Sentiments can be happy or sad. The wellness of my soul is like the waves the heart. She has a sculpture of adorable music. Soul bursts with joy. Her body is a fountain of music. I adorn her body with a fountain of poems. Desire is a gladiator of the body. Poems are spoken with love. It is angst that plagues the heart. Worms have eaten my body up. I am contaminated with poison of hate. Misery weaves an ornament of poison around me. Profligacy falls on me as a dirty object. Let the dead sleep serene. Death is a bitter pill to taste. Dawn is rising in my sentiment of faith. Hope, you are a rock that stands firm. My heart is a shady tree. Leaves, you are clothes of the body. The body is a fountain of joy. God gives pardon the humble soul. Please cling on to the harvest of achievement. Loose not hope as it comes to you like a running brook. Soul is thrilled with cosmic wonder. Pain, you are an enemy cast into hell. Angst, you are a diabolic fiend. Rage, plunder not the mind.
The Third Class of Poems are cathartic poems. They can be visceral or cerebral or both. Some examples are given here. Reading the Sermon on the Mount is a beatific experience. Watching Macbeth cleanses the soul. The mirror that lies in the heart is one of stained glass. Feelings rebound with hope. Faith is a sun that never sets. The mind thinks like a sword. I want to let my heart speak true words of hope. My heart is a mystic wandering in the ocean of faith. Cruel words are opium for the soul. I have found a ray of hope in God Christ. Passion should not abide in adultery and fornication. Satan is a thief of the heart. Envy you are a poisonous fang. I have a mind that does not fear death. God—Jesus, I am your adored devotee. Unleash your feelings with gusto. I would like to live an art of poetry. God will eradicate from my mind, ill will and sloth. God make me temperate in my desires.