Shades of Love

Dear Readers,

Here’s a poem excerpted from my book Shades of Love.

Men and Contentment

He licked the edge of the cup
where a slender stain of the tea
the lady’s lips left behind.

Juxtapose this contentment against the mindset of the men
who aren’t content with the nymphs who are their wives,
and who seek out a variety of flowers,
ignoring the most delightful fragrances
of the roses
of their own gardens.

Greater is he who values the littleness of her touch than those who devour her–
restless still.


Please click here to order this book plumbing the theme of love from many perspectives.

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Shades of Love

Elusive love

While God expects the entire humankind to discard the world for Him,

some humans crave lifelong for one fellow.

Desperate to escape the pauperism of love,
they lap up attention that turns out to be a fake penny
that a frail beggar had visualized a piece of bread on.

For one leaf, they wait, wait, wait;
but spring’s itinerary happens to be selective until they pass away.

Music credit: Deep Sky Divers

Elusive love

Love as a Maxim

Some treat love as a geometrical maxim
that withholds acknowledgment
of its growth into a bloom,
without consummation.

Intact hair is frowned upon
as the husk untouched by a storm;
dry lips as a raw cherry,
which awaits carnal warmth.

Just as a hairstyle
would be encouraged to be copied
from a fashion book
and diversion would be antithetical
to a perfect look,

coquetry, a cart, follows as its application;
the kiss, a horse, as a compass.

 

(Published in Munyori Literary Journal, 2013)

Love as a Maxim

A Family Bond: Devotion versus Consumerism

Family MattersA family is founded when commitment triumphs over
the cleverly vile logic of sexual compatibility.
And the heart refuses to keep tenants:
couples realize they’re Humans!

and it is products—a cloth, a shoe, a toilet tissue —
that are gracefully suited for return,
vindicating the trust in a consumer’s sense of satisfaction.

A family then is “felt” when there is no complaint of boredom
with an existing relationship, whose bloom survives a partner’s death.
In this family, the child gets the lesson in willing sacrifice;
where the meaning of “bond” is seen beyond
its epistemological veil, since this is the bond
that the members have cemented and ably sustained,
unlike quick-fix solutions based on exigencies.

And that’s why in such a family, a wife can wait anxiously
for her husband who has been languishing for decades
as a prisoner of war in the foe’s jail:
and it is not the loss of delightful nights that she broods over,
but her’s husband’s safety. And there, unfortunately, might be people
who label her willing devotion “female subjugation”,
since to them it is predominantly
the loss of a night companion.

Family, indeed, matters as it can work both ways,
depending on what brings the couple together:
love or mere lust; commitment or convenience.
And the difference manifests here:
children might behave as tortoises that shut themselves off
when a tragedy hits the family;
and they might appear as swords
that out of sheaths assert themselves to slay adversities.

The minor nuisances, of course, I know of such extreme bonds
when crazily you eat, upon a flurry of insistences
and receive a thousand instructions on safety,
or in a foreign land you receive a call from parents who ask:
“Have you put on a warm jacket?”
And when you go back home, the neighbors—the extended family–
dare ask: “What’s for me?”

I love Indian family!

Source: “Family Matters” (anthology), Nivasini Publishers, 2013

 

A Family Bond: Devotion versus Consumerism

At the Altar of My Departure

Destiny had me look for him in autumn
when fall colors seduced and disappeared;
the delusion of his discovery marked the youth,
and this is the labor that has no compensation!

He whispered: “Spring is not far!”
He whispered it today, and I remember years back!
Now I whisper:
“Spring will joyously appear
at the altar of my departure;
offer fragrance to my ashes
when I would be no more”.

At the Altar of My Departure

A Woman to a Man: Because I’m Not Clever….

My caustic words might smack of
frightening independence, bitter assertion,
stubbornness.
Understand, they’re like a new- born baby
and I didn’t cloth them with sweetness!

But don’t fail to sense the innocence:
tell me if you find guile, see a trap or discern a lie;
remove softly the layers with your touch
and refuse to talk if love you don’t find!

A Woman to a Man: Because I’m Not Clever….