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POEMS BY KAMALA SURAYYA

POEMS BY KAMALA SURAYYA

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Published by kannadiparamba
POEMS BY KAMALA SURAYYA
POEMS BY KAMALA SURAYYA

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Published by: kannadiparamba on May 31, 2011
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06/15/2013

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KAMALA SURAIYA- POEMS
 
WILD HONEY
You gave me a jar of wild honeyI gave you my loveMy love is so muchlike honey collected from the forestsSeveral springs lie dissolved in it.Each night theweight of your bodywearies my arms.But you lie against anotherwoman's body in a townfar away from my homeHow long is itsince you and I beganto run round the rimof a circle seekingout one another?I cannot guessTodayI do not even knowif I am pursuing youor if you are pursuing me.The thought thatmorning is leagues awaymakes me lieeach night sleepless.Was it in anotherlife perhaps remote thatI heard for the first timeyour soft voice, yourgentle words?2Why do you standsilent outside my door?Your
silence
thumps againstthe walls of my Heart.Who built a shrineat my feet?Prayer bells trill in my ears.I am a river that flowson, unaware of itslimitations. On anevening after the sun hadset you visited me.
 
It was then that it flowedas if in spate.Who can now stem its flow?At which fated hourdid my arid lifeturn into a playthingmeant only for you?You were a scholar.You roamed aroundscattering shreds of moonlight.Today you are wise.You burn like the Sun.But I tremble fearingthat one day you mightdiscover the transience of our love. Am Ito get scorched by the sun?We had asweapons only our religions.We had to abandonthem on the floorbefore we could embraceeach other.3Why do youstand before me withthe troubled face of aconvict? Why do youtremble in fear beforethe one who loves you?I admitted you intothe interiors of myhome only because youwere an innocent.Are you foreverseeking in me the lost treasuresof youth? Oh pilgrimlate in arriving, youronly duty is to giveme my last drink of water.Your finger tipsare blunted for you chewyour nails. With bluntedfingertips you strum myheart strings, you liberatestrange melodies. This is to
 
be our honeymoon. We joined the suicide squadready for self-sacrificeAnd if love is nota sacrifice what thenis its meaning?
THE MASK
How can I love him without causinghis mask to crack, a mask more cherishedthan his naked face, one of intensepiety that glows like an auburn sunagainst the horizon while the wineof his tremulous voice is poured again andagain into goblets of adorers’ ears?Transient as the splintering sunin the moving river beside his homewas his love and transient the leapof desire in his burnt sienna eyesBut how shall I survive the aftermathof love and the sudden awakeningin him of reasons, the
silence
 
banked
 as
snow
in the
Nokia
 
he
gifted a
month
or
two
 
ago
 returning from a Gulf-land to my impatient arms?
LAURENTIAN POEMS: QUEBEC, CANADA
 
THE MAPLES ARE GREEN STILL
Perhaps in slumber liesas yet unemergedthe tarnished copper of their leavesand my beloved's tooI remember the red hot ragesthat awakenedunder my gypsy lips.Was there ever a womanable with words to describe the splendors of herlover's body?Ya Allahimport for usfor my silent one and mefrom the heavens abovea language that is versatileand conveys love's anguishand the concomitant blisswith words that resemble the sighs

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