Biography of Pradeep Dhavakumar
Pradeep Dhavakumar Poems
When The Clock Strikes 12 (A New Year Po...
Like the eyes of a warrior that shuts for a while and rejoins the battle; Like the wings of a bird that freezes
It Is Still There!
There is Water in hard Pulp, There is Water in pure Milk; There is Water in thick Tears, There is Water in Blood too;
I unbuckle her jaded black Jacket. And lift from drapes of crimson Velvet. With Eyes of a watchful Guard on duty, I ogle at this naked man-made beauty.
Looking at you, I remember the first time we met: sometime in my first grade, when the page-thirsty line was running wild with its black army, trying to capture every length and breadth of the white land
On Taj Mahal
O’ King, I proudly salute what thou hast built, As a timeless monument of immense beauty But I staunchly salute Not what thou hast built, As the greatest monument of divine love.
Tired of the mundane girls I see Wanted someone of a different degree; Atleast three horns she should have With nose and tongue split in halve
Bedspread like black waves, awaits the kill tonight; Pillows like puce slabs,
God is just an answer for every question That doesn't have an answer.
O 'Wind- didst thou bring the breath of those I miss? O'Wind- wouldst thou say If their breath is still happy and gay?
Code Of Silence
At the crossroads of hate and fear, I met those whom no man held dear; A Donkey, a Hippo, a Canetoad, a Viper, All spoke a code, so hard to decipher.
The common volunteer among us Who helms the digital eye To capture the celebration To mummify for our tomorrow.
Having adorned them with words before I flung my pen to the sorority of clouds and stood beneath for a repay in verse.
Antipodes Of A Floating Feather
Like an infant gently handed from one maiden to another, slow and soft it descends, soothing every eye that sees.
A Natural Birthday Party
Softly burning sodium Lights, ornately planted on muddy Streets appeared like Candles on a Cake and I wondered if
Long-sighted Sun, since macrocosm's first dawn,
stands still yet searches, with deep, powerful eyes,
in every galaxy of far, with inextinguishable hope.
Shy nymphal Earth, in her veil of atmosphere,
whirls on her tracks, with her pristine heart- the moon,
held out- up and high, with utmost truth, offering all.
Their curse of creation- differing compositions,