K.S.Subramanian Subramanian Poems
|41.||Cursor On The Screen||5/8/2009|
|42.||'I Have No Faith'||5/6/2009|
|43.||A Middle Class Home||5/12/2009|
|44.||A Small World||2/4/2014|
|45.||The Changing Face Of Bangalore||5/10/2010|
Dreams! the primordial instinct in Man
that stirred a flame out of stones;
it could trap wind's music in a flute,
blast a path through the mountains;
cull energy from the sea, discern
the burr of atoms in sphere's lute.
Down the river's interminable journey
dreams unmasked the cosmos bare,
threw a cordon on elemental fury,
cut knowledge down to a pint computer;
ominous signs foreseen by a mile.
Is there the other face of dreams?
Dynamite cradling a snarling projectile?
ferns strangling the archetypal stream?
'I Have No Faith'
Familiarity, a stranger in the dark;
Shadows open out with shadowy
meanings, euding the outstretchedn palm.
That scribe counted not his hey days
cares less for the last day in the wings.