Nooruddeen Mathilakathveetil Poems

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Smudge Of Blood

Here, this smudge of blood,
Of a tender boy of eleven,
Soaked thru the tarmac,
Yet to be dried, still wet and warm!

My River

Oh! My river
My cute river
Beauteous you are
In the morn, in the gloaming

Convinced Me She Is….

Is she an angel?
I asked the stars
They were dubious


Slouching beside my parents
A shabby shriveled bloke
Wrapped himself in a rug worn
Laden with a bulky bag torn

Rainbow Expressions

Hazy and misty sky turns (into) bright
Sun shines faintly in the rain ere long
Lovely girl’s lovely eyes
Twinkle with amazement

The Bird Watcher (Part 1)

I plod through the leafy woods
The shadowy, coolly rain forest at the dale
Harkening the spellbinding tunes of trills
Watching the vividly coloured pretty fowls

Made For Each Other

I remember the first day I met you,
I caught a glimpse of your face far in the crowd,
Glowing in the diffused golden twilight,
I strode in the seething mass to be near you.

The Notion

Old age knocked on my door and enjoined
‘Over, your stint in the desert’
Obeyed, though my reveries remain unfulfilled
Oddments of my odds and sods are wrapped up to carry along

Photos Speak

Dragging me these old pictures
In to my by gone days
They are decayed in course of time, though
The pictures have a lot to speak


Trills of the birds
Arouse him up in the morn.
The feeling of lethargy
Restrains him from getting up of his comfort

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