Pradeep Dhavakumar

Pradeep Dhavakumar Poems

• For A Good Friend
  To travel with a friend is to travel on a cruise ship, For there will be laughter, music, dance and wine; Yet you still secretly check for life jackets and rafts, And only sleep safe when your swimming is fine.
• 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;
• Ebony Romance
  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.
• Karna - Staring At The River...
  Staring at the River he wondered how his unseen mother would look: thin as in summer? or fat as in spring? fair as in sunlight? or dark as in dusk?
• Good Defeats Evil?
  Good will defeat Evil. Every religion says. In stories and myths, Something unseen nowadays.
• The Resonating Note
  I knew not of the place and time Or the forces that lead me there But stranded I was, in the dark With a guitar, left, for my pair.
• Rainbow
  First, the Rain argued its case. Then, the Sun reread its lines. I sat on my balcony, on looking and expecting the Rainbow's testimony.
• Lost In Search
  To view the life of another I left known lands around me; And boarded a naïve canoe to search the map-less sea.
• Live In The Present
  I thought of going back to the past, To change a thing or two. But then I may mess something else, And what will my present then do?
• Laundry
  Coloured skins of Men somersault and rejoice in the dryer's tepid breeze after sloughing sweats and sins
• God
  God is just an answer for every question That doesn't have an answer.
• Game With Stars
  He lay on a dark, deserted isle, With eyes fixed at stars above; Face lighted with a smile so big No vigilant God, would allow.
• Full Stop
  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