I am posting four poems under this title.
10.05.06
Warp
Painted in the song of the web, Light
makes its way through the dusty layers of warp
and flies with each gentle stroke of the hand
back and forth weaving a pattern in gold.
Shadows and dust, entwine
around deep colours in faded rust
while crimson edges creep
to cover the forest green.
Painted in the song of the web, stories
swim past old eyes, tracing the thread
with caring fingers gnarled
and too tired to rest.
Caught between light and dark, they wait
each one, poised for flight
Solitary rush cast aside, only the flight of the mind
meets the soul’s limp gaze
and casts its tools aside for bed.
Shalini Pattabiraman
29.04.06
Modern relationships
A blob of red tires and dries up
waiting on the palette, ignored.
On the tarmac, hunched knees,
hands spread out, he feeds pigeons
by the roadside traffic.
Green grows on the surface of textured blue
filling the grays, taking over,
wiping the base.
She sits in the corner watching bodies enter,
exit, through the swinging doors of a cafe.
Tightened beads gather on the glass
bumping bubbles on the other side
leading to their mutual demise.
Pigeons soar, bodies swing, he thinks, she moans,
time stops, frozen in the moment, painted.
Shalini Pattabiraman
12/17/03
When you painted me
As strangers we met.
and your eyes painted me,
chose colours to describe
seamless thoughts in your mind.
I can't see the colours,
only feel cold paint against the soft brush stroke,
singular, and bold.
Cold feels strange,
The soft strokes impersonal.
Your eyes seemed not to choose
to capture my soul.
Nor did they train
sharp angles and planes
like points of doubtful construct.
So when you painted me
my feathers fell off uncollected, untouched.
Shalini Pattabiraman
9th Sept ‘03
Dusk in Digboi
Burnt orange bends over pure green,
flames stolen from around that bend
softly whisper of the burning leaf.
Smoke rises, lifts its hands
and curls around the chimney.
Webs of fine silk weave a mist
matching winter’s slow walk
across deep gorges and valleys.
Low, so low, it sinks,
deep orange buttered with fringes of blue
dark, dark, blue, takes over the orange hue.
Shalini Pattabiraman
