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Best Poems Written by Kalyani Bindu

Below are the all-time best Kalyani Bindu poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Kalyani Bindu Poem

My Night

Covering amongst
day’s festivity, 
night’s tiny
sparkle –
his eyes,
muttering the
lurk of 
a damp,
somber dawn;
the trickling
of hued
droplets fringing
the wavering
green of
dark, deep
wells;
the sweep
of an owl,
cutting past
the daggers
of wind,
the flesh of 
my
controlled reflexes.
His day of
Mosaic
intuitions –
my night
of his
absence.

Details | Kalyani Bindu Poem

Lurch

Scrolls raked along
the crevices;
limits of a breath
patched, thick.

Chiseled down the 
rumbling bark,
brimming loops,
cross road nooks of
trembling passion,
scorching rues.

A crumpled hearth
of perpetual dormancy.
Raw upon the
lisping drones of the 
bamboo,
broader than the
clearest black,
an influx- grim, vivid;
cryptic on
morsels of my
slumber, dampened 
ears...

Flashes of detached
voices, intuitions;
monotonous as this
tread-
a lurch; different
yet whole.

Details | Kalyani Bindu Poem

Grotto of Dusk

The hearth of
russet swirling
down the red pool,
 
cascading into the
drenched heath of
silhouetted blue.
 
Rivulets of brimming
dark curves trotting,
along the spires of
veiled hues.
 
The sabre palms
brooding in sober 
silence.	
 
The groping stream
gazing over the lore
of the vivid sand.

Details | Kalyani Bindu Poem

Waltzing Dawn

The estrangement of
a cruising day,
plodding onto the 
dormant senses.

Ancestral musings
strewn with monotonous
contours, 
faded into crevices 
of streaming melancholy.

Smudged against the
sugary tea,
dripping hair,
soiled feet,
the erroneous space between,
the cuckoo sang 
better.

Details | Kalyani Bindu Poem

The Theatre

A mosaic of 
thousand yellowish 
shades, 
carpetted the 
sky of the 
theatre, 
renovated- 
the monotonous 
smell of cool, foaming 
air 
(made and sealed), 
black chairs, 
wrought; 
flashing popcorn 
glimmers, 
backs etched 
by 
capacious hearts- 
thinking others' 
minds, 
proclaiming 
their 
verdicts. 
The screen, 
now void, 
like white wrapping 
the dead, 
brooding like 
lukewarm milk, 
would spit 
brimming 
colours, 
shun the 
mosaic sky. 
Some crazy 
dance of a 
drunkard 
talking 
colours.

Details | Kalyani Bindu Poem

Bugling Plankton

What talks
in
a 
plankton’s 
wriggle? 
Weaving unseen 
whirlpools, 
pitting puddles 
(soaked, a mellow, 
afternoon shine)- 
lashing and 
curling 
like 
a sleek
blade, 
cutting into 
rotten green , 
perhaps, 
blowing 
a bugle- 
like 
a shriek 
lost 
in 
the chasm.