Tuesday, September 1, 2020



Language Of Flowers

Busy are the Bougainvilleas, color-washing my soul
Leaving their pigments of love all over
On days when I feel autumn in my heart, or
When shoveling is too tough, on my snowy mind
My darling Paper flowers, not fragrant
Yet, the scent of joy spreads within, as they shoulder
As they embrace me in vibrant colors of hope, like
Spring kissing my eyes...

Telosma! My Tonkin Jasmine!
If solitude is a creeper, it could be Sampangi
Gently climbing upon the evening's shoulder
Intoxicating the world, as she begins to smile
Her lips in drowsy orange, and milky green hues
Memories and moments heady in her fragrance
Making hearts swirl, and twirl

Language of flowers, is always love
But, to love just a flower or two
Through a language, breaks my heart
Each flower, even the unseen, unheard
Is a messenger of love,  hope, and my precious muse
To each petal, my heart bows down in gratitude
The language of flowers, some might say
Is color, fragrance...
I hear love, as each bud unfolds...
"Chrysalis heart..."

I have chosen silence
To coil up in my cocoon
Breathing therapeutic moments of unfriending the chaos
Scrubbing off the stains of the mundane
Soul taking a shower, under mute waterfalls
Do you have the patience to wait
Until my wings sprout, and I meet you as a butterfly
You have too many impatient questions
To this chrysalis?!
Do you know, love is
Not just conversations and conversations and conversations, but
Listening to, and guarding silences too
In sweetened patience
Until I come back, and begin to talk
Like a child saying its first word, and
You hug my voice like an elated Mother/Father...

In Love With The Art(Ist)

Gerua evening sky, melting
Into crimson-purple…
Slowly flows the starlit hues
Of a chilly night
Bonfire by the lake…
As they sit together
Gazing at the petals of fire
Absorbing warmth
Scents of silence, kindle the voices
Hidden in art
Poetry in his captures
Paintings from her woven words
Begin a brand-new conversation
In the language of art…
As they listen, engrossed
The moon serves warm nectar…
At dawn
While the blue unfolds, and gold blushes
Their intoxicated souls
Smile in gratitude
For the hangover art gifted…

Old Is Gold
(Forgotten technology)

Dialing the humble old telephone
That we did not even own, but
Ran to a nearby shop, or to a neighbor’s house
Paying for calls, investing a rupee or two
Gaining priceless joy of hearing a loved one
Sharing joy concern surprise, and
Sometimes, hiding tears lacking privacy...

And you! My dear Roll film
Delight it was, every time I captured moments
Conscious of the thirty six, and occasionally an extra film
Saving few for the possible 'best moments'
"When can I get the prints?" my restless question
The lab aNNa always faced
Collecting the pictures, quickly seeing them all
At the studio, with a grinning heart
While 'digital dust' accumulated these days
With umpteen forgotten clicks...

Hello dear cassettes, how I miss you!
Recording my favorite songs from a shop
The rewind forward and pause buttons
You were obedient to, and
The pencil you might have been angry with
For screwing you guys often, but
The songs had to keep playing, you see
I apologies now, for the harm...

Nokia! Darling gadget that weighed like a brick
Worked like a yoga instructor
Fit and strong inside out!
Your battery life or clarity, you were trustworthy
Even dropping you from the tenth floor
It was the concrete road, that shattered

The list is long...
Radio, Walkman, VCR(rented), Floppy disc, Pager
Nostalgia cascades from each one of you...
But now, all I could do, is
Write to you all, from an android phone
With eternal black and white and sepia love...


MADHUMATHI:  An ardent lover of Nature, Poetry (English and Tamil), Photography, and Music, Madhumathi believes writing is a soulful journey of weaving one's emotions and thoughts, having a kaleidoscopic view of life through poetry.  She experiences Metamorphosis through writing. Nature is her eternal muse and elixir. Poetry, to Madhumathi, is a way of life, and loves to leave heart prints behind in gratitude, through her words. She strongly believes in the therapeutic power of words, that plant love, hope, and enable a deep healing. Madhumathi loves to spread mental health awareness through writing, breaking the stigma, and takes part in related activities, too. Madhumathi's poems are published with the Poetry Society India in their AIPC anthologies 2015, 16, and 17, the multilingual anthology 'Poetic Prism' 2015(Tamil and English),  Chennai Poets' Circle's 'Efflorescence' 2018, 2019,  India Poetry Circle's 'Madras Hues Myriad Views'(2019) celebrating the spirit and glory of Madras, in the UGC approved e-journal Muse India, in IWJ-International Writers' Journal (2020), and e- zines Our Poetry Archive(OPA), and Storizen.

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