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Poetry by A.Thiagarajan 

A former college teacher in India and now in finance, A. Thiagrajan lives in Mumbai.



© 2006 A.Thiagarajan






The air we breathe

Senseless denial

make dread of days to come

refusals continuing


glorified, standardised, made the norm

by social scientists, politicians, all

the few who don't agree are minority..

It was a bloodless violence no physician willing to treat..

The chased seen on the scrolls of honour in the lands they fled to..

In the Dow Jones and the ess and pees..

Woo them now

As saviours of the chasers who still


Keeping the dead alive

Chasing the living

Language stifles..

The air still is full of senseless denial

And of bloodless violence






Smile In His Sleep

Smile in his sleep
A bend around the tiny little clutch
Sleep, hands across above his head.
I bent over to cover him with a sheet
He pushed it aside with mumbling unclear
A big broad fulfilling smile his lips convey
What could it be for ?
What dreams & worlds you are in?
No son, I don't wake you up to see...
No world or dream for us
Sans any admonishing psalm, a sweatless brow
Sans fences and frontiers
Happy you fly in the realms and skies
With no care for towers nor the runway
No wings that clip over time
For my part-
the only thing I can do
Is not to wake you up
For any food or fruit-nor milk
Nor to me and the likes of me.








All work is property of A.Thiagarajan.




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