OLIVER(b1952) is one of the finest English poets from India.A native of kerala, he writes in malayalam as well. He has written two books of fiction, one book of travelogue, a collection of stories and a collection poems in malayala. He has also published a book of English poems titled WAR AND LOVE. His recital of poems can be heard on Youtube, at OLIVER MALAYALAM POEMS. more »
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Oliver ......... Poems
Hail, rain, sweet rain, sleet and Winds eastward, southward and, Northward! see, gale-blown fig Tree-dance! stay chair-fast, mick
RIGHT AND WRONG
Just as right kisses On the wrong lips or otherwise, Sometimes a right word I choose for wrong thought
O Silent earth, swart and rugged, Benevolent Mother to our mothers And fathers, take back now your Glorious son, the chief black
The eyes here, the throat As well femur there; But name in the air, transitory In the mercurial mountain air!
Sooner He Is Laid Southward
Since our gentleman is laid southward on this pyre- Doss as geraniums in the courtyard are Blown and beaten awry by harsh pluvial storm, And mourners sit crooked towards
Four - Cross Road
The old man's in the street Bearing a barrage of discreet And disorderly communion of sounds At the throat; helpers look
Midnight! I hark to the whispers of trees that toss Their branches like dancers in festal season! O trees, they swing as the breath of darkness gushes Across the thorpe! Beneath this blackish or brown
FROM AN EASTERN GRASS FIELD
The grass, its green flame; the flame's soaring! Uplands nourish the family of culms that clamber On damp river-sides. The grass unwinds its striving
RAIN IN TRAVANCORE
The rain now falls; its diamonds break, and break! The rain here sinks like thoughts that lapse in mind; Enormous and blissful, it drives its frenzy to wake
LINES ON THE EVE OF NEW YEAR
Now the rubber-tree leaves are cadaverous, and strewn Along dry river-banks and stony sinuous passages! This is the time you stroll out, remembering past Festivals when cicadas blare swan-songs from tree-boles
No one heard the screams That burned in kitchens or roads; The act was final like rape.
When holy water Ran down the streets after That rain and thunder, we drowned and Then no escape, no escape!
FOR MANY A YEAR
For many a year, lonely I leaned Against this pillar, my soul! Solitude, solace and strength
Rain falls, uneasy through The supple boughs of my brain-tree When mum sleeps on And Dad's among the farm- trees
Comments about Oliver .........
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Edgar Allan Poe
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(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Hail, rain, sweet rain, sleet and
Winds eastward, southward and,
Northward! see, gale-blown fig
Tree-dance! stay chair-fast, mick
O dear sleek cat feel big!
Rain-drain, rain-drain, rain-drain;
Drip-drop, drip-drop, drip-drop!
Sleek green, slick sheen! see, fig
Tree-prance! Sly cat, meek prig,
Leap down; brown cat, seek this!
Rain-drain, rain-drain, rain-drain
Drip- drop, drip-drop, drip-drop!
Peak-top gleam, slope-gleam and
Deep bourn! what mad rain at
Three-three! Rain-train chutes on
Steep knolls! Glee glee drops on