Ancestral marvel

Sun chasing cool mist crawls past my soul

Wild jack trees sway in excitement as I walk through

Tapioca dipped in fish gravy manhandles its landlord

Escaping barriers, she sends her aroma to excite my nerves

Acknowledging her call of longing, I cross a sloping stone road

I slide down gracefully to the lap of an adorable home

With love and nature around, a well and a pond to ponder

I sense the ancient heart of me throbbing aloud

Distant church bell reveals prayers that made me

I ruminate the past served in spotless plantain leaves

The happiness that spreads brightens the high skies

Tongues, minds, and silence brings forth a million memories

Drinking palm nectar, I walk on my ancestral leftovers

The breath I inhale is from my ancestor’s trachea

These waters washed the dirt off my blood countless times

And quenched the thirst of my lineage

Undetectable green stem and its soiled brown roots, I comprehend

Twigs may have moved on to different continents or places

It’s a mystery, how I had been made up from million years ago

It’s a marvel, the way I live had been planned and saved long ago

Avni- the ever-glowing flame

The breath of her longing and fear lingers
The green walls of her home weep - after
Her residence turned a mouth of a dragon.
She wasn't allowed to live or die naturally
Her enemies want her as a symbol of pride
Her glowing skin as a showpiece of victory
But... she needs just her home, her habitat, and kids.

She was the mother of two young bright children,
Full of love and play, the home roared in happiness
A day came when she metamorphosed into a destroying fire
The anticipated threat, her motherly instinct blossomed
Eyes transformed every trespasser into a monster
She killed every intruder eavesdropping her parenting silence
Labeled the mad mother, the man-eater, she was murdered
The murderer becomes a hero and she a villain, not victim

In a world of wolves who know not a mother's love
In a world of wolves who knows not to pacify a defending mother
In a world of wolves where the kids are not protected
How could she survive even if she was a tiger?

She just merged to her funeral pyre to keep glowing
Hoping to find a better home for her descendants.

#shalinisamuel

Mind

Oh, being of violence and romance
In you, I see a mini Syria
You are a dictator
Extreme and adamant
Yet you fight for freedom
Freedom from yourself.

You hurt violently
You break your head
Pluck your own eyes
Perplexed you protect yourself
From whom do you run
When, you are the culprit?

Pity in your helpless eyes - rare
Your aggression kills my sympathy
Your agony milks tears from dead eyes
I pour gallons of milk on you
Red it becomes on your battlefield
You pull me into your confused island

Oh unwavering undecisive mind
I am scared of your impetus
I wish you dive into silent oceans
And not be scared of sound silence
Don't scare me with your foolishness
Oh dear, enchant me with your penance




- Shalini Samuel

Why

Past has written everything
Future is an unsolved puzzle
Present is revealing its colours
Now, what shall I write?
And what shall you read?

Scribble my pen, the ignorant world
for the men who missed to hear
Scribble my pen, the unheard mysteries
for the men who are curious
Scribble my pen, whatever you feel

Yet, what do I write?
What do you read?
Does it make any difference?
Can it diffuse a bomb
Or can it stop an accident

Nothing can the poem do
Then why should I write?
And why should you read?
To just fool the mirage, time
Or is it a showoff?




--Shalini Samuel

The Dead Touch

Numb hands move over green branches

Trembling soul shudders - bitter cruelty

Scared, the foliage hides under the meadows

Along with the dust of the deceased – to perish

Beyond evil eyes, the seeds find solace

The day of resurgence, they long for

One by one, the fruits go into hiatus

The green succumbs to the dead touch

Alas, killing every inch of life

The dead hand feels the weak twigs

Resurrection of the prey, the dead craves

Through it he wishes to come back alive

Sinless and blameless past he wishes to create

Consequences force him to resuscitate the kill

The dead is dead, it cannot breathe again

Yet the seed is resting somewhere in the wild.

The germinated seeds will catch him, one day  

When HE forgives- over the passage of time

- Shalini Samuel

PS: The touch of some men/women/beast destroys beautiful things of nature. It takes eras to be rebuild. Let not we be cruel enough to destroy beautiful nature. Join hands to protect beauty and nature.