Posted by: Ron DuBour | June 12, 2017

CUSCUS* AND CAMPHOR~by Balachandran Nair


 

 

CUSCUS* AND CAMPHOR

Cuscus I am, not the African millet,
Nor the specie of Australian possum,
I am the fibrous root of that sacred
Indian grass, so cool and so fragrant.
.
Like old-aged daddy cut away from home
I am cut at head of root, lift uprooted
Like they bath dead body, spray perfume
I too am washed, still hold my perfume.
.
Like daddy used to stand on his own feet
I too grew, never sought anyone’s treat
Now son light dry skin, who never cussed
I underneath, lighted, too never smoke cuss.
.
To comfort us in peril, sky, the witness send
White camphor, clouds,wind fan cuscus
Look at the son who ignite the whole now,
Enjoy the fragrance of burnt existence!

* Khus-Khus

…..bala…..
(c)12.06.2017/…bala…

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Categories

%d bloggers like this: