Biography of Prasad Natarajan
May I introduced myself.
My name is Prasad Natarajan. I am born on a scorching hot summers day, Saturday 2nd of April 1983 to two humble and gentle soul parents. Their first child, and their only son. With day-to-day running around to make a normal survival, I am a private person spending most of my time writing something or painting. Poetry gives me another outlet to express my feelings.
Prasad Natarajan's Works:
Prasad Natarajan Poems
When I Dreamed
The windows of my body slowly close, Abandoned in a garden full of red rose, Walking amidst gentle flowing stream, Golden yellow cutting through sun beam.
Poor Man’s Love
Vibrant colors of red have engulfed the vision, Chocolate wrappers with silky skin,
Grazing over the leftover blades of grass, Those sheep's go on bleating throughout the noon, So are those buffalo's like dark clouds that pass, Lonely thorny shrub dancing to a futile tune,
Unflowering Spring Fresh pollens fill soft morning light, Tender leaves just emerge from branches,
Common Crow Rain drops on my forehead pour, Lion behind the clouds began to roar,
Sun Exposed Walking through the harvested fields of Jan, Heard the larks perking through the roots,
Winter silence Wrapped, well hidden, Dominating emotions,
Sarcastic Fluids Pot bell filled with, Boiling fluids of sarcastic,
Nestled between roofs, Chirping fluttering narrow,
Wintry evening welcomes stranger shadows, They stretch pull each other, swaying gentle heads, Some glitter like the finest pearl from ocean deep, The others fade away, to the wandering oblivion,
Eroded olive Eroded iron, Immature mushrooms conspire,
Bankrupt smoke White beard elderly man, Blowing stimulating smoke,
Misty Still Misty hazy window sill, Aromatic steaming fill,
Isolated Park Drenched solid bench, Isolated lonely swings,
A tiny droplet,
Taking a stroll down the stream,
Clouds are but masked thieves.
©Prasad.N 8th June 2010.
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