Before the Sacrifice: Pavithran Theekooni

In the morning
your knife
will win over me
Cut into pieces
I will be hung
With bloody hands
you will be counting the coins
Depending on the possibility of sale
you keep on changing my name
and selling me
For this cheating
after the sacrifice
I may forgive you
But
In this darkness
In this quagmire
You have tied me
In such a way that
I can’t even move
How will I forgive you for this?

Untitled: P. Raman

Shiva
you did not die
even with poison in your throat

The little one died
with a whistle in his throat

The old man died
with phlegm in his throat

The fisherman died
with fish in his throat

Shiva
you did not die
even with poison in your throat

The little one died
with a whistle in his throat

History: A.Aiyappan

The history teacher stammered
Stammering
he swallowed the truths of history.

For him history means
to boast
about one’s own family.

His son
is an expert
in making paper boats.

One day
he broke the bundles of history
and made planes, ships and boats.

The plane soared high
The boats and ships
turned blue and red in water.

The dreaming ant: P.P. Ramachandran

Getting bored of living on the earth
an ant moved on a sun’s ray
heading towards heaven

On the way
to take rest
it stopped on my window sill
Being tired
it soon fell asleep

I could see
the dream it saw
through its transparent body

A temple’s compound
filled with blood
the environment polluted
with the sound of crackers and trumpets

One could see smoke
on the fields and roads
I was awake the whole night
and slept at dawn
when a cracker burst

The ant woke up
without knowing that
its dreams had been stolen

By then the sun had set

The ant lost its grip
and fell to the ground.

Rain: V.M.Girija

I don’t feel like going out in the rain
But it’s the only time you go out
Like the finger that caresses the hair
Like the emotion of the kiss
Like the milky sea enveloping the elongated neck
Like the scattering beads
Like the broken thread on the breast
Like the warm flow on the
Stomach
Thighs
Legs
And its fingers
As though lost in itself
Like dancing in water
Like dancing in joy
The rain…

Crime: Santosh Alex

I wanted to hear the Koel’s song
I wanted to hear the harvest song
I wanted to hear the boatman’s song

I wanted to hear
the music of the river
the sound of the black bee
the swaying of the bamboo

I wanted to move
along with
the north and south winds

Hearing a loud noise
I came out
The koel, the farmer, the boatman,
the river, the black bee, the bamboo
the north and south winds
were being arrested and taken away
for noise pollution

In Malayalam: P.N.Gopikrishnan

I read a French novel
this week
I saw an Italian film
had doubts on Sanskrit grammar
and applied allopathic medicine
on my wound

I am happy listening to
Hindustani music
My need is
the ration from Andhra Pradesh

In the afternoon
I yawn in Malayalam.

Song: S. Joseph

A person lives in a house
in the valley
By evening his song
envelopes the valley
Don’t ask about the meaning of the song
Maybe it is meaningful, maybe meaningless
Forget about all these things
Let us sit under the shade of the tree
and listen to his song
How beautiful are the earth and nature?
Do you know how many leaves this tree has?
This song too has something likewise