Hi, I'm Mahesh Ramakrishnan 👋

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This Ruin

Sonnet — An Invocation to the Master #331

Slowly slowly Thou didst enter like a white rumour,
A bright conspiracy was set aflame within my being
And each part in this conflagration didst enter
My being the fuel for this soul-flame burning.

Slyly slyly Thou didst foster twixt each a doubt,
The mind against heart and heart against mind,
No part could then stand confidently bright
For by doubt they both were rendered blind.

Shyly shyly Thou didst seed in me an adoration
That adamantly turned every strand of ardour 
Towards Thee like every river to its ocean,
Where Thy will leadst I amble or leap there.

Slowly, slyly, shyly Thou hast sowed blue anarchy,
My soul from this ruin and smoke awakens for Thee.

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Three Spears

Sonnet — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #50

Courtesy Lexica.art

The first assault was with the spear of desire
Leaping from fond faces and cherished bodies,
From every wound there is a cry of despair
Like bloodied priests wailing to their deities.

The second assault was with the fear of death
Of dear brood and all the selves I had become,
The brood spared, the selves starved of breath
Fall yet gasping like fish out of its watery home.

The third assault was with the needle of incapacity
That with pricks severs all the strands woven,
Am afflicted now with a hundred ills of inability 
As if my heart and tongue never a song had known.

Thy three spears have pierced like three dire boons,
Content Thou with Thy quiver of strange mercies?