krishnakumar chandrasekar nair Poems

Hundred and fifty odd souls went down that day
So full of life: so unwilling to die
'cause one man had a hideous little problem
A problem that the system could not set right
...

How old is this car of yours?
Doctor, its running into the late seventies

The engine is a bit too noisy
...

Who am I or What am I
But an assortment of parts
Liver, pancreas, kidneys and a heart
All strung up on this bony comic frame
...

Sitting on an arm chair still
Watching the beautiful setting sun
Unmindful of the winter chill
I tried something in my mind for fun
...

I wonder what he does
Between catches and kills
Waiting, patiently waiting
On that ornate web- his design
...

Let us begin a revolution
That is real and red
Yet not of human blood
But those of roses bred
...

Several times I have been eminently rejected
By elegant connoisseurs of the poetic form
But by no means have I ever felt dejected
And still arrogantly write much to their scorn
...

There was a place once for blacks and whites
And the coloured ones between the left and right
And for humanity it was the darkest of nights
Till Mandela came along to lead the fight
...

Under the bright arc lights
Before the anesthesia slowly takes over
And the hooded doctors seeming smile
The atheist casts aside his vows
...

After you stopped talking to me
The sun stopped rising in the east
And as such there were no sunsets in the west
And seasons wouldn't change
...