Selected Works of Prof. Geetha Nair from LiteraryVibes (Vol. 2)

POEMS by GEETHA NAIR G.

Here is a mini-anthology made up of 12 of my poems.

Many of them were published in various issues of literary vibes from June, 2019 to march, 2020. Almost all of them are part of my second anthology of poems, drawing flame, to be published soon.

I am deeply grateful to Dr. Mrutyunjay Sarangi, IAS (retd.), for giving me this opportunity for my poems to gain enhanced visibility.

GEETHA NAIR G.

From Literary Vibes - Edition- LXI,  27 March, 2020

1. UNEASY PEACE

The sea is closed;
The waves in stasis
Hold fishes in translucence.
Ants alone hurry hurry;
Scurrying, hoarding zealots.

Our  towers of silence sleep now;
For how long?
Will smoke billow soon,
Build steeples here
And pierce the sun that dims in fear ?

It is an uneasy peace. 

From LV- LIX, 13 March, 2020.

2.TOO EARLY, TOO LATE

At the temple that evening
I was early, too early.
The flowers were still askew upon the tiled floor,
The lamps rested like soldiers, on their sides.
Walking around, I saw the old priest,
Lean legs exposed,
Crouching by the well,
Scrubbing a figure.
It was dull grey and big
I saw him right it ;  a human shape
With a projection for nose,  sockets for eyes and a dent for mouth.
I hastened away and waited  by the gate again.

The sanctum was  closed.
He shoved it open
With his  towel-wrapped burden.

In time the bells pealed
The door swung open
A hundred lamps sent flickering rays
Upon His ornate face.
Big lustrous eyes
Scarlet smiling mouth
A gleaming crown
Shimmering robe-
The works.

While the devotees swung in worship
And in praise;
I too closed my eyes...

All I could see was that grey figure,
Stripped, wet, true. 

LV - LV,  14 February, 2020.

3. PIND  DAAN

Her wet palms strike each other.

The sky darkens at the sound.

Pinions beat, air whirrs,
The cocky ones arrive;
Wheeling lower, lower
Above the hunting ground.

Wings spread, they glide to land-
Grey, black, grey-black,
Young, old, middling -
Egos engorged like their rotund bodies.

She throws them words to feed on;
They peck and gulp;
Then eye her nubile self.

In vain she scans the sky
To glimpse the gift of him
Returning strong
 from the empty blue.

Then, grown red-tongued, ten-armed,
She whirls,
Her gleaming weapons
  Drawing flame…

The cry of birds rends the captive air.

LV- LIII, 3 January, 2020.

 4.THE DRIFTER

  Lapping waters
  Lull him on... .
  Now and then a fish rises
    Iridescent in the sun.

Into his boat it leaps, flails, beats;
He watches with wary eyes,
strokes it
with a finger turned frenzied
And then tips it back
To turgid depths.

Fisherman
Seeking a fish too fey

At sunset the banks turn bright
with lights that leap and dance
Flames
That shrink to wicks
Smouldering, silent.

The boat drifts on
Aimless
Towards the last sea

LV-LIV,  31, January

5. METANOIA*

“Relax”, croons the super beautymaker.
Her face is a painted mask
Her scarlet talons hold a gleaming drill,
Some instrument of torture
Poised above my face.

“This will hurt a bit
but make your dead skin burn
and fall in tiny bits.
Exfoliate;
So you look smooth, sleek, young.”

The instrument whirrs to life:
I lie back, tense.

Metanoia.

Will it work with you, I wonder...
Some burning, some scraping
Till I am free of you ?
Half animal -half stone,
Will I stop hungering for a lick, a pat
And rise, turned two-legged,
While my passion shatters in pain
  and lets fall its shards 
    on your inert face,
Leaving me old, cold, sane?

*the process of changing one's heart, likes, life, self.

LV-XLV, 6 December,2019

6.MOON

The night the moon got caught on our doorstep
And I captured him with a click
We spoke of this and that
In a rare languor,
Till daybreak pinched the silver wick
of the still night.
  

I did not dream then
The eclipse was  brooding
Just out of sight
Waiting to erase you
  in that silent cave
Bereft of light.

When shall I hold you captive again
In my cupped hands?

Now there is only
A picture
In my hourglass heart
Where slow fall the sands.

LV-XXXIII, 13, September, 2019.

7.STUDIO

‘In the room the women come and go”;
Dropping thoughtless shards upon my torso.
Their words are a fog I burrow through
To reach our lone studio.
Chiaroscuro.
I must empty every nook
Of its prints.
Cast them out
Cleave them
Heap them
Douse them;
Where is the match to set them all ablaze?
 Burn them
Char them
Scatter the heavy ashes 
Of the chequered years
To settle that heaving earth;
Firmly firmly
To build 
That one still cenotaph.

LV-XXXIV -2, September, 2019.

8.STICHOMYTHIA *

Why are you mute?

-The wind speaks for me.

I  know not its tongue.

-Listen; you will learn.

What does it say?

-It speaks of falling leaves.

I see them not.

-Close your eyes; see them
twirl and swoop.

Yes. Our dreams; they cover me.

-I see them too.

Love, hold me close.

-The leaves hinder-they are dead.

The wind speaks no more.

-Farewell.

*a dramatic device : two voices alternate short lines. 

LV -XX, 14, June, 2019

9.FINGERS

In the mirror
I see your fingers trace the lines on my face
Your eyes are sad
And then those fingers 
Turn fierce
Whirl back time 
So that we are young again 
And no lines are drawn
In our sudden dawn.

LV -XXI, 21 June, 2019.

10. SHIPS

Your practised steering
That moved over swells, fore and aft,
And made no swerves to search the hold within
Senses soft gold today... .

Tug after tug that I sent
Chugging
Have guided you close, again.

Lie alongside, then,
Drop anchor.
Pirate, caulk your vessel
With that molten gold
That will seal it, steal it
From storms and winds of chance
That threaten every clime;
And help to hold your hull together
In weary weather.

LV-XXXV  27 September, 2019.

11. TODAY

From these heaped promises.
 Broken bottles 
  Rise spirals of smoke

Where are you, 
Love ?

You emerge from the fumes,
Gleaming cross held firm
In your hard hands
All shorn of dross
Like your new self.

Nail me to it
Let me weep;
And at your feet
Your name on my lips
Murmured thrice,
Quietly sleep.

LV-XIX,  7 JUN, 2019.

12.GLOTOY 

On my shelf

It rests

Arms stuck out

Eyes dull

Motionless

All day

All the weary day

As I twirl

My daily spin

 When darkness stills me

It comes alive

Glowing

 From my bed I can see

Its big head gleam welcome

Its arms stretch to me

In growing warmth

My old, alluring toy

My night time friend

My joy.