Its touch so sensuous
Its eyes drawing me into itself
Its body snuggling in mine
Rousing a passion yet unknown
...
He was as old as my grandfather and I, just twelve.
Marriage meant nothing to me, not even a new cheeram.
He lived in penance and I, just a little child, tended the aashram,
Never cared for, not even acknowledged of my existence.
...
(This is a small poem written years back for my daughter, when she was still a kid.)
'Why Sunday? '
My daughter asked.
...
'Vinaa dainyena Jeevitam
Anaayasena maranam'
what the ascetics of the yore
In India dreamt of, always.
...
When you see a silver lining in the sky
just look for the dark cloud
that it encircles, ready to break
into a thunderous shower.
...
Winter,
The goddess of the longest nights
Of the netherworld Hades
My days she invades!
...
Emmet Till
A little boy of fourteen
A little black boy of fourteen!
Now on his mutilated head
...
On Twitter
Was an old picture
Of a few mothers
Grieving over two coffins.
...
The secrets of your heart
I try to read by my amorous eyes;
the touch of my loving fingers
leaves my message
...
THE WORM AND THE ANGLER
They (the fish) are not as intelligent as we who kill them; although they are more noble and more able.- Earnest Hemingway in 'Old Man and the Sea'.
When you picked me up from the dirt
...
Love inflicts
such wounds on the hearts,
as lightning on the clouds,
that the pain is so soothing.
...
I am fortunate to have been born into a family with keen literary interest. My father taught Malayalam (the language that people of Kerala speak) literature in the High Schools. My mother, though a home-maker, has excellent knowledge in literary works in Malayalam, English and Hindi. Both of them took keen interest in our education. There was a good collection of books at home, which served as our introduction to serious literature. Poetry, fiction, biographies everything was available to sate our hunger. Moreover, at home we subscribed Mathrubhoomi (Mother Land) , a weekly in Malayalam, that used to dwell on serious literature. This shaped our interests and promoted our talent. I still read whatever I can lay my hands upon.Very keen on poetry. Malayalam, English, Hindi, translated. Fiction too. A true fan of Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Umberto Eco. I write both in Malayalam and English. Especially, poetry.Some fiction, book reviews, sometimes about banking, literature. A book of my poems in Malayalam has been published recently by " Green Books" , by name " OZHINJA KOOTUKAL" (Nests vacated) . The book is available in Amazon, the online book store. I am a banker by profession. Married. We are blessed with one daughter.)
The Swan And Me
Its touch so sensuous
Its eyes drawing me into itself
Its body snuggling in mine
Rousing a passion yet unknown
Slowly it dawned on me
He is no ordinary swan
He is no swan at all
Then what, nay, who is he?
His golden feathers
Gleaming eyes
And voice profound-
Did tell a story different…
His lips reaching up to my ears
Whispered, 'Leda, I'm Zeus!
May I take my own shape
So you'd believe…'
'No' I cried. How can I
The queen of Sparta
Be seen nude with a man
Be it Zeus himself!
And I wanted to fly
On his golden wings
Over Mount Olympus
I was already his…
(2)
The touch of his body
His lips on mine
Webbed feet on my navel
Mounting passion
I remember nothing
I lay in the poolside bath
Tired as a dead log
Unable to move a limb
But his mere thought
Roused me again
Kindled my passion
Longing for him yet again
(3)
My husband Tyndareus
The king of Sparta
Who'd not touched me
For the one month past
I went to his harem-
With many a concubine
Where he slept
All spent and tired
All those girls I threw out
For, through the night
I wanted to be alone
With him, till day broke
Never did I allow him sleep
Throughout the night
For my passion rose
Whenever I thought of Zeus
My hunger I wanted to sate
But I wanted to give him
A night to remember
So he'd never suspect
Whenever I longed
Zeus did come to me
Always as the swan
In the form I wanted him.
(4)
With swan I have slept
Not a human any longer?
For, two eggs I laid
And waited to hatch
The first one hatched
Out came twins both male
Reminded me of Zeus
I was sure, they were his
My heart longed for him
My body for his touch
Out came Zeus
To see his babies
The other egg hatched
I had another pair of twins
Were they borne to Zeus
Or me husband, the king?
(5)
But my desire was else
And he knew it well
His passionate hug
With his feathered arms
His lips searching mine
My body aching for his
I was his yet again
Never sated, never again.
Very critical. Love hearing the criticism and feed back. Love the poems and work from you also.
A versatile poet who can capture readers attention with his vast knowledge of mythology and has the zest to write it boldly the realities of life. It's a pleasure to read his poems and to be associated with a poet par excellence. My compliments and wishes from the bottom of my heart. Keep sharing your beautiful thoughts.
I am entirely enamored with this gentle poet from India’s epic poetry. I highly recommend the Sunahsepha epic series. For example, look at just these 2 lines from Sunahsepha Part 5: . Their teeth and talons bared A hound of soldiers stood guard. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -With these words he paints an indelible scene for the readers’ eyes and hearts. I feel the boy’s pounding heart and what a magnificent description of the soldiers- -it makes me shiver. Excellent writing, Excellent. . Then there is the more tender side of this fantastic Storyteller, witness this line from Sunahsepha Part 6: . Fingers of rain long and slender - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - now that is a very visual phrase! ! ! ! Readers are quickly engaged by the epic events of this particular series whose plot is enhanced by beautiful phrases like this. . Oh, but beware readers! ! These epic tales get addictive! ! ! He’ll have you eagerly waiting the next installment! He writes these with a very stately heroic tone- perfect for a storyteller relating the epic adventures and brave deeds of the past heroes and how their actions affected the future of mankind. There are so many rich threads woven through his poems- they take the reader on a journey through his country's heritage as well as through its philosophy and psychology and artistry. I particularly enjoyed the tapestry of human relationships in these poems and quite frankly I cheered when the bad guys got smoked... they so deserved it, after all. I have been on a colorful journey with this set of poems and I hated to see it conclude. . And beware Storyteller. There is a problem with writing these sagas? Your readers instantly want MORE PLEASE! ! ! ! . UNNIKRISHNAN is not a one-trick poem. Not by a long shot. His other non-epic poems concern such topics as love, anger, youth, age, revenge, and wisdom's role in life. . We also would miss a lot of good reads if it were not for this kind gentleman’s generosity in translating poems into English for us. We Thank You! That makes you a great friend to the writers and to all the readers on PH.
A poet with great sensitivity to what is happening in the world. His acute social awareness flows through his works. He writes with great finesse. His writings speak to the heart of the reader. They are well-crafted. They stay with the reader and make a powerful impact. I'm looking forward to more of his works. A verse par class.
Unniji is a wonderful poet and a very down to the earth gentleman. He has understood the great difference between illusion and reality... that's great
A great talented poet his poems has a feeling which could be barely found in any other poets.
He is a poet of Great talent and one of my favorites! .. Just read and you will see why! ..
He writes of sorrows that will make your heart cry! .. He writes of love with such a deep beauty and pureness inside! ..
He write of religion in a way that opens others eyes and brings compassion! ..
The choicest ornaments to a man's house are his friends.
'The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a hell of Heaven, a heaven of Hell.'
You can't expect that after a poor fellow has written a book he should also understand it.
Whatever God has given every human being, like knowledge, power, wealth etc, is for sharing with the deprived.
Selfishness is doing what we like, without considering how it would affect the feelings of others, especially those who love you.
Styx drained Enough to drown The Universe And the infernal fire under it.
This journey I have started on my own A journey with no company.
Whatever I have is his; nothing Mine. His was everything.
When you see a silver lining in the sky just look for the dark cloud that it encircles
Would my pen bring the spring on this paper!
No one is innocent until proved guilty.
In the fag end of one's life Time surely renders one Ugly, abjectly miserable.
Winter, As she waxes in Light wanes, days wane.
I am an unfinished story that He has omitted to complete.
How do I, friend, put the angst of separation in words
Many may come who may hold your hands But not one like me who'd share your pains
Poetry Cures you of all ill, what cold!
Son of God will be born Then shall deliverance bless us
Life is just a drop of tears That still burns And tastes blood
Life does not acknowledge your existence, until you prove it.
Darkness is the only truth
Truth unpalatable to the uncouth
Dreams, amorphous water
Soul is the sole identity of the body
Autumn, the Evil Spell of the Hades
Flower is the offspring Of Goddess of Spring.
Love's so intoxicating like wine That once you taste it The joy never comes down.
Who says, distance smothers memories?
silence kills my words.
My poems are the pages of my life Some are frayed, some folded;
Life freezes in tents Outside grey skies weep.
Life is a river You cannot enter twice. Love is another.
It is when your silence starts to speak That your love feels deprived
We may not be able sate hunger of everyone But may we feed at least one hungry soul.
Black skin is NOT a sin.
Tiananmen Marx turned in his grave with eyes moist And his heart bleeding red
The sin of killing a fowl Is washed away, as we eat its flesh.
They were the poison fangs And the hood, the hiss And the venom That dyed me black
Dwelling on vengeance causes A wound that never heals.
Never get Carried away by anger, Anger brings disaster.
Everything comes to an end, Some day.
Eschew greed, lust and violence
It is November The Fall has just fallen by the wayside.
Our eyes betray our sorrow, distrust, diffidence and extreme contempt for ourselves.
The Authorities fear the tearful voice of a few Thousand young quivering lips
The sin of killing the bird Is washed away, as we eat its flesh.'
I wish I could drink from Lethe and forget everything, even my forgetfulness.
Like Prometheus's liver, Moon wanes in a fortnight and waxes to her fullest in the next!
Music is the language which everyone understands, not just human beings, but plants and animals too.
You earn only what you give unto others!
Poet Unnikrishnan is a prolific writer from India, who has great depth on Indian philosophy and his poems carry fragrances of India's culture.The series of poems drawn on the characters from the epic Mahabharat can be cited as examples of his depth of knowledge on Indian scripures.Moreover he has given his poetic touch to them and given some new interpretations.