This collection of poems is the outcome of an inner journey trying to explore mysteries of mind and secrets of cosmos. It may guide someone trying to embark on such a voyage.
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Inner and OuterA Collection of Inspirations in Poems
By Dheena Subramanian
AuthorHouseCopyright © 2010 Dheena Subramanian
All right reserved.
It is not 'I'
who writes this.
because only when I am not I,
something descends, unseen, upon me or
something ascends from, nowhere, within me,
and gets it written.
Since it is written with my fingers, pen and papers
I call it mine!
Who knows whose?
Where was I
before I was conceived?
Was I in mother's ovum?
emerging out of bloody nebula
oozing out of her entire system
Was I in that tiny bubble?
spinning and rocking
on the shores of womb,
devoid of a centre?
Was I in father's sperm?
speeding like lightning
to pierce through to the core
setting in motion vibration of life?
Was I in a static sphere?
waiting to sneak through
as an image of leading sperm?
Where was I
Before I was me?
When stomach is full,
It keeps mum.
But the mind,
More you feed,
More it asks.
"What is Life?"
'The present is the effect of the past and cause for the future!'
"What is Love?"
'In balance fuses to create
In stress collide to break!'
"What is Death?"
'Holiday for stock-taking!'
'When will you stop questioning?'
I intervened before it completed.
"When you don't bother answering!",
Came the swift reply.
America! O! America!
Stretching thousands of miles,
Not run past
By a colt galloping into a Stallion,
Whose treading hooves
Sending vibrations of a rhythm
Echoing that echoes against mountains,
Melting and floating over a bubbling stream,
Whispering pride of freedom
To the leaves of grass,
Swaying to falcons soaring into sky,
Land, Rock, water, wind, and sky,
Were all once strung by thread of life!
America! O! America!
Who were they?
Where they came from?
Were they the sprouts of your own soil?
Or wreckage-remnants washed ashore?
Who were they?
Whose bows and arrows,
Knives and axes
Knelt before barrels of gun,
Old, bold and gold.
A pinch of salt dissolved in ocean
Of speed, pleasure, violence and death!
BLESSING IN DISGUISE
More than pain
Joy is unbearable!
While grief anchors down one still,
Excitement scatters all over
Wrecking and rocking wild shores!
The past is killed
Memory is blank!
What is the present?
Bundles of puzzles!
A blink for a blink!
Why this tendency towards non-existence?
Why this urge of merging with nothingness?
Is it an indifferent escape from harsh realities?
Is it an illusory capture of the ultimate real?
Is it possible to transcend all past lives to return as primeval light?
Is it feasible to shed all desires and thoughts by humming with universal
Is it a mistaken outward Journey for an Inner one?
How does an Inner Voyage witness similar cosmos?
Before the Inner eyes expands the Buffer Darkness,
There is no day or night,
Except occasional flickers or rare brightness.
Particles of sound and waves of images collide, fuse and fissure,
Ideas, big and small, rotate and revolve,
With emotions and thoughts held in their magnetic field,
To be their errands on demand.
The mind merely observes,
It can not step into the floating sphere
Lest, would be lost into oblivion.
The mind simply watches, standing on the edge.
Each and everything slips, unaware, into the darkness.
The mind can not call back.
But, very often shits and rarely pearls are thrown ashore,
Ready to be washed away!
The watchful mind picks up pearls.
The mind's prayers, often, go unanswered,
Still, when least expected,
It pours down tearing the roof!
CARBON AND BLANK SHEETS
I am written on and through,
Overwritten on and on and through,
The last written merging with the first written,
Through the intermediates written,
Like a collage indistinguishable,
Like a unique compound inseparable,
Except a word here and a word there,
All out of joint and whither,
Now meaning one and then another,
Leaving, at last, nothing but non-sense.
When will I become a Book of Books?
A Blank mind decoding all the minds,
Words pure and simple appearing
And all disappearing when no more needed.
Like a silent current flowing unseen,
Transcending, Time and Space, being nothing?!
"CERTAINTY OF UNCERTAINTY".
Rocked by innumerous waves,
From infinite angles,
Drifting away from the set direction and the desired destination
A destined island.
I was a premature baby abruptly excited
Searching still for the womb of nature
Taking refuge in the shade of dark leaves or thick bushes,
Calling her deep ... deep in the Time past,
Never getting the answer back!
I had a congenital loss
Of a link of gene in the web of instincts,
Lacking urge to build my own nest.
So, I lay eggs in the crow's.
From a distance, I watch
Crows and cuckoo hatch.
Impulsively, I, approach,
Excited, my baby cries,
Alarmed, mother crow chases me out!
I cry for my mother,
I cry for my child.
Neither comes back, but just an echo of my call!
Round and round and round
Sailing all along
Islands emerge and sink
Elegies and lullabies merge
In an echo that is drowned
By waves that rise and fall
Fall to rise again!
Don't ... don't follow me.
It is a waste of life!
My way is as different as my destination.
Ask your inner self,
The answer lies in you and you alone.
If there is no direction,
Your destiny is too far,
Your path has not still been laid down,
And your time of departure has not been yet scheduled.
Till then, wait!
A few casual acquaintances came, talked with me and have gone.
My immediate neighbors came, played with me and went off.
I am alone!
Meanwhile, it seems,
My best friend ever,
Had come to stay with me.
His knocks at my door,
Still echo, disappointed.
I try to recollect and identify him,
I am terribly left alone!
I feel thirsty,
Though I am surrounded/by fresh-water lakes
In a land of refuge,
Though I get profusely wine and honey
In a foreign country,
Still I long for a hand-cup of water
Water of my own land!
Blood flowing veins
Crave for its smell,
Enacts its taste.
Though my land is famine-stricken,
Though my soil looks for the skies,
Still, drops, dripping from the rocks,
Preserved like pearls in hard shells,
Smell like my father,
Sweet like my mother,
Oh! How I thirst for water of my land!
Present likens a dream
Future, dream in a dream!
When will it be the dawn?
When shall I return home?
When shall I quench the thirst for my land!
Never, never I thought you would part me,
Why, you could have asked me,
Gladly, I would have let you free!
Was it not our terms to complement each other?
Have we not known compulsion hinders compassion?
If I had ever known it,
I could have got prepared!
Why did you part like that?
So bluntly, so violently, so crudely and so cruelly ...
The holocaust's blast mutilated my core,
Oozing blood curdled and serum stinky,
Writhing and wrenching pain sucking up all energy
And spitting out like scattered straw,
Burning within and without,
The radiating agony sweeping from string of hair to nail of toe ...
The present dissolves deep,
And the past resurrects,
The memory of loss revives,
With that the yearning for you!
Can't you come back?
A few movements of moment,
Shall soothe lightly the wound fresh still,
If not completely get it healed.
Can't you ever come back?
Why, say, why did you ever part me like that?
So desperately, so impatiently, so restlessly to be your own ...
It was a full moon-lit night,
The moon was so near,
Caressing every being with her breezy touch
Covering everything in dreamy slumbers ...
Suddenly you fell me
With a lightning thunder,
I stood aghast,
And you are no more to be seen!
I feel I am going to die,
As mysteries of Life, Love and Death unfolds,
As there is nothing to be told
I feel I am going to die.
I feel I am going to die,
As the body's organs pretend stopping,
Having lost the purpose of their hopping,
I feel I am going to die.
I am afraid I am going to die,
Though the mind expect the unexpected,
Still, something somewhere objects ... but,
I feel I am going to die.
FUSION FISSION OF LIFE AND DEATH
Hydrogen fused and re-fused to form the soil and the oceans,
Oxygen fused to forge the ozone,
Soil and ocean fused to bear plants and fishes,
Organisms fused and cross-fused to mutate man's flesh,
Plants fissure water air light and soil
Organisms, animals fissure plants and proteins,
They all grow, live and die to let live,
But, man fissures and fuses atoms to annihilate one and all,
To let death and darkness forever to cover over all!
The sun and the moon are parents,
Whole day and night, they are caring!
Coming bright in the morning
Going light in the evening
The sun makes life all glowing!
Taking charge in the night
Singing cool till the light
The moon keeps all sleeping!
The sun and the moon are Rangers,
Saving the Earth from strangers.
Guarding from the speeding stars,
Burning down stray meteors,
The sun shields all safer!
Freezing all the Star-dust
Putting germs into rest
The moon does her best!
If it is a Scheme celestial
Precise to the nano-second,
What can do the human interference?
Seemingly influential and halting
Yet, in finality, superfluous,
But triggering further the course of its execution!
On the shore
Vast is the earth,
Wide is the sky,
Big is the ocean,
How small I am!
"IF NOT I"
What I would be
If not writing poems,
A crab walking sideways
Looking suspiciously at everything,
Scared even by the sound of waves,
Running back to take refuge,
In to a small black hole.
A mouse tearing constantly
One or another into tatters
To let not the sharp teeth growing
And piercing one's own self,
A mere government employee
Tiring like a willing slave
Carrying rumors and telling tales
Taking grudge of others into the grave,
Having no friends
To say a word of grief or joy
Bequeathing nothing to posterity
Leaving no trace in history
Except the remarks
'Good' or 'Satisfactory'
In service register and confidential report
Bundled to records section
With a label,
'May be destroyed after three years!'
Like, bees in swarm, humming the same tune,
Playing ceaseless dance in electron fashion,
Gathering honey from flowers far and near,
Thoughts sing, dance and labors all hours,
Till the stick of Death, strikes the mind,
To squeeze away all, that was stored.
Lips to lips
Whisper secrets of love
In breathless silence
Witnessed by tinges of blood
Suppressed by a glittering smile!
LAST DAY OF JUDGMENT
Dusty ashes and
Can not rise from the graves or crematoriums.
But, on your last day of breath,
When your door is opened by death,
You are caught alone,
No relatives neither friends
Nor even Gods come to bail you out.
You are left all ... all alone,
You are yourself ...
To decide yourself!
No summons, you are the witness!
Everything is evident!
Just the judgment reserved!
No multiple choices
Either cessation of Birth
Or sentence of Life!
To be or not to be
The final verdict!
A city- traffic congested,
With vehicles long and short, high and low,
Running helter skelter as 'L' board drivers,
Going round and round losing sense of directions,
Wasting time without knowing,
Leaving space with suffocating smoke,
Crashing one over another,
Raising cries of non-sense,
Jamming everything to halt,
Releasing howls of horns,
Striking fore-head and cursing fate,
Vehicles move on and on to repeat the same.
Wait till all slow down and get parked,
Let it be dark but the starry night is enough
Be silent and be patient,
Don't look back in anxiety.
Suddenly, a vehicle comes in lightning speed,
Lifting you up along grand landmarks and new vistas,
Dropping you at the desired destination
For you to recollect in tranquility!
Though it is my next door,
I have not gone through
Except throwing occasional glances!
Of its splendorous architecture
Whose bright domes, stupendous pillars
Intricate carvings and delicate images
Unveil the unseen out of the seen!
Of its mysterious silence
Echoing from one hall to another
Whispering hidden secrets
Of time-long treasures!
Of many familiar exhibits
And several that delude faint memory
Moving like a dream in reality!
At the thresh hold itself
I stand aghast!
I had forgotten you
I would never remember again
Even if a friend reminds
I would brush it aside.
But, the very same probing stare of your eyes
That tore my heart thread bare once
Haunts me now again
Drifting my mind into deep past
Anchoring into unfathomable sadness.
I know pretty well
The past can not be rewound
And played once more now.
But the heart nostalgic
Harbors the single thought
Of going back in Time
And putting things in order once for ever!
Oh! How much I long for a time machine!
OURS AND YOURS
We write with perspiration and perseverance
Under the streak of cloudy light omnipresent,
Hearing the chance tune of eternal music.
But, yours seem to be
The Lightning compressed of all lights and
The universal vibration being Source of all Creations.
Craves for excitement
Caused by sensations
Be it by
Smoking joint, sipping peg
Kissing girl or
All you can have
Or at least buy,
But not a poem.
You can not force out
A premature child
For a still-born one.
Wait, you have to
Till the slow moving worm
Eats up its green share
Sleeps deep in cocoon
To wake up as butter-fly
Fluttering here and there
Bringing joys to eyes that behold!
Excerpted from Inner and Outer by Dheena Subramanian Copyright © 2010 by Dheena Subramanian. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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