Cooum
Near the cinema
Stripping women
Of their souls
The river quietly breathes
Stoic like a saint
Though dying of the city's sins
On the bridge the harlot
Too weary to walk the streets
Stands staring at the waters
Mourning the river
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poem by Prabhakar Subramaniam
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Sibling
As I step out
Of the shop
Three carry bags
In either hand
I cannot but
Think of you
Three years elder
Now light years away...
Our shopping done
You used to say in jest then
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poem by Prabhakar Subramaniam
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Dead flowers
Bees hum around
The dead roses
Being strung
Into garlands,
The flower-seller
Has kept aside
Two of the best blossoms for me,
She knows what I prefer -
Something not fully awake
Something between bud and flower
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poem by Prabhakar Subramaniam
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Sky-clad
Behind the high wall
Near the bus-stop
Still stands the tree
Carrying a crow's nest
On its crest,
Though now a bare sculpture
The leaves all gone
The bark coming off
From branches and torso
Giving it a leucoderma look,
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poem by Prabhakar Subramaniam
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Parade
As windows look out on windows here
They have to be kept closed often
Even if the sun and zephyr cannot enter,
When I'm tired of the walls
The television, the kitchen and the humdrum
I throw them open,
Catching eyes or movement,
On the other side
Now hurriedly shutting me out,
It's difficult to make friends -
No tenant stays for long
Next door or at the opposite window,
Perhaps driven to the suburbs
By the rent
Or opting for a city
With fewer desires -
I've seen a slow parade of faces
Like the infertile clouds
In the sky
Before they pass out of sight
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poem by Prabhakar Subramaniam
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Makeover
My distant kin
Suddenly warmed to me
Discovered nice things
In me, my family
The book-worm became a book-lover
Likely to win a Booker
(Do they have one for readers?)
Called me smart, affable and gregarious
When I used to be uncouth, grumpy and reclusive
After 40 years praised my crooked smile
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poem by Prabhakar Subramaniam
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