ASK THE BELLY
Scratch your head
Bite your tongue
Grin
Bow low
Keep your hands tied
Your feet pressed firmly together.
'What's all this?'
You'd better
Ask the belly.
It'll tell you.
Balachandran V
Most common moods
Poems
A Conference under the Sun
A weed, an insect and I
In a conference under the sun.
On the Lantana, flowers.
Pink, white and violet
They snuggle in bunches
Looking up at me like children
In awe of a giant.
Thorns prick my fingers
The stalk taut, lean like a whip
Refuses to oblige my hands
Trying to clear a path.
Then, glinting in the sun
This little Ladybird on a leaf.
Legs drawn up under the shell
She sits still, as if hoping
I wouldn’t see her.
- Lessons in Love
- Sun Shines Brightly
- Beginnings of a New Day
- Smug about Signature
- Guillotine
- Spider in the Toilet
- Lord Toad
- Homo sapiens hirsutus
- Borderline
- Trees and Doves Don’t Wear Clothes
- Face to Face
- The Female of the Species
- The Slide
- Gecko
- Monday Syndrome
- Mirror images
- Caught Behind
- Cycling on a Sunday Morning
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