Posted by: K Viswanathan | April 20, 2011


A wet bird

Sat on the

Fallen lamp post.

It was raining still

The lost bird is

In search of

Her nest

Far away from

The low lands…

It was raining still

A cat pounces

To scare the bird

As it flew away in vain

The cat paws the tree

In ultimate disdain

Posted by: K Viswanathan | April 20, 2011



Petals falls

One by one

Flower says…

‘There are

Enough of them

With fragrance

And color ‘



Doesn’t know

He is

Made up of


Posted by: K Viswanathan | April 20, 2011


Drop of dew in the dawn

A tiny tiny drop;

Rebus the world, in true colors

Silencing all fantasies…

Hidden colors cry;

In the bosom of flowers,

Know the mist full whisper,

Again again and again…

may 2004

Posted by: K Viswanathan | April 6, 2011

a breeze……. love & pain

The gentle breeze

On a falling flower

Slowly descents

Make it swirl

Twice and thrice…

To rob away

The fragrance


…oh wind

An untold pain

Is my tribute to you…


Like a twig breaks

And falls apart

Leaving any pain

When it no more

Belongs to

The tree

A nesting bird

Find its way

To twill his love;

In the deep woods:


……a silence

In warmth

Is broken…


The gentle breeze

On a falling feather

The memoirs …

Make it swirl and swirl

As it slowly descents

The book of life is closed…

Posted by: K Viswanathan | February 8, 2011

The grand piano composition…..

I left out, bare footed towards the tree…

Leaving my only love and blood, on the couch

Sleeping deep and placid untouched by dreams.


Don’t disturb. I’m in my study,

Surrounded by my books of life.

Composing my suicide notes,

To play on the grand piano…….


A thin little candle, though unfinished,

Lit by the stone wall, defending a

Strong and aggressive darkness…


A secret  ally of all darkness-

The wind, waiting his turn

To blew away the candle :-

On the doorsteps of my life…


I left out the tree, bare minded..

Towards the hills…where my son lay

Injured in the dust… with blood and sweat…

[07 Feb 11]

Posted by: K Viswanathan | February 1, 2011

a life claimed to die


I’m nearing

The break which

I sought for a long…

Into my innermost

Fears and love I retreat…

But my retreat

Is reduced to

The corners….

An edge of a sword

Is nearing my heart

Which will pierce it

Beyond the limits

Of my bosoms….

And there I die

As anything but


No blood stains

To return a revenge..

Oh birth

Where are

Those cradles of love…