Author Archives: K.RADHAKRISHNAN


Poet K.Radhakrishnan lives in Bhopal city, India. Born on 4th November 1955. He is an underwriter by profession and worked as a senior level executive in NEWINDIA ASSURANCE, India's largest General Insurance Company till his retirement. He is engaged in consultant activities and insurance education. He has co-authored three insurance text books for NATIONAL COUNCIL OF EDUCATION, TRAINING AND RESEARCH(NCERT), INDIA. He has a passion for writing poetry which he pursued after retirement from his job. His first poetry book REFLECTION OF SOUL was published by LULU PRESS and is selling in Amazon and Barnes& Nobles His second book ERUPTION OF BOTTLED UP EMOTINS is under publication.

Ghosts of the Past

Long buried secrets of past,
Sprung up like vampires at last,
Letting out a deafening shriek,
Across my soul something creaked.

Clawing to make shreds of my soul,
Gnawing at my sanity in whole,
Past is like a predator crouching to attack,
Ceaselessly chasing devil on my back.

Feeding at the soul like a parasite,
It preys on mind in night or broad daylight,
Holding my senses as hostage,
Confining me in to its bondage.

From memories I try to paddle away,
But they keep floating nearby, to my dismay,
They circle me like hungry sharks,
Munching me with it’s jaws in the dark.


Ghost Written Story Of My Life

Book is filled with many chapters,
When I flip through one, another comes after,
Some pages induced me to laughter,
Some are destined to end in disasters.

Many losses and some gains,
Frustrations and resultant pains,
Some thrills ran through my veins,
I rode through life without reins.

Some torn pages and some with faded ink,
Under the weight of emotions, I sink,
In between, I find a missing link,
But ink was never mine, I shudder to think.

Some chapters of life remained untouched,
Some mysteries are undisclosed,
Some partly written, lying unfinished,
Ah, some are totally messed.

I merely hold the pen in my hand,
It is scratching pages, not at my command,
Story is mine, ghost written by other’s mind,
I am left with only a title to find!!
© K.Radhakrishnan

Pilgrim’s Progress

On an elusive and endless road,
Carrying tons of sins as head load,
With a body that feels thorns on path,
A pilgrim progresses fearing God’s wrath.

Hearing crunch of stones underfoot,
Sometimes a forest owlet’s hoarse hoot,
Even time itself is iced up, frozen solid,
The pilgrim, so steadfast yet so stolid.

Wading through desert of sand dunes,
Gazing at sullen and dim Arabian moon,
To Kabah, metaphorical house of God,
The Holy ground his feet did trod.

Another one climbs summits of high cliffs,
Tunnels, channels, chasms and rifts,
Bound for Kailash, Lord Shiva’s abode,
Pushing on along the untrodden road.

But the distant shrine is so near to find,
Not seven seas apart, but in core of mind,
Allah, Christ and Shiva dwells there,
But thy mind to escape from snare.

Neither in Heaven not in earth,
Not in the wide world in it’s girth
But in the mind of a trekking pilgrim,
Find Him, O’ devotee, using thy wisdom.

(C) K.Radhakrishnan

Mythological Rose

Love maddened nymphomaniac,
All were victims of her amorous attack,
Couldn’t tell who was her son’s father,
Incestuous Aphrodite, Eros’s lusty mother.

Eros, the illicit child of lusty encounters,
Secret keeper of his mom’s adventures,
Personification of intense love and desire,
To set hearts on fire, he will never tire.

Rose the queen of floral poetic universe,
On whose glory bards have sung verses,
Eros sprinkles it’s magical dust in hearts,
As he instill passion in lover’s thoughts

Rose, it’s perfection can only be rivalled,
By Aprhodite’s anatomy, beauty unbriddled,
When she emerged from foam of the sea,
White roses sprung in glory for all to see.

Aprhodite’s blood made the rose red,
When the thorns of white roses pierced,
Her son Eros made thorns around roses,
When nectar sucking bees stung him in nose.

Roses, enduring symbol of romance,
With a rose, in test of love grab your chance, Leaving an everlasting imprint on hearts,
Implanting deep love in our thoughts.

(C) K.Radhakrishnan

A Two Legged Homunculus In The Vast Space

Now here and the next moment there,
My wandering mind sometimes go nowhere,
Creeping nothingness wraps it like a wire,
Making me stare at the ceiling in stupor.

It freezes in to instant blankness.
I bang my head to come out of that blanket,
Oblivious of the crowd around,
In the company of nothingness to surround.

The end that streak stretching to eternity,
I am neck deep in to the state of taciturnity,
This nothingness is truly everything,
As everything here will turn in to nothing.

If I get lost in nothingness’s deep abyss,
None will trace the memory of my face,
Am a two legged homunculus in vast space,
Where the vast sky and this earth interlace.

© K.Radhakrishnan


Oh, dark clouds hovering over the sky,
See rain drops flowing from my eyes,
A lovelorn heart heaves with lonely sigh,
Melancholy grips as soulmate is not nigh.

I am drowning in the deluge of tears,
Lingering pain that never disappears,
A second seems like thousands of years,
Can this lover’s woe undeaf your ears?

I am getting caught in passion’s torment,
My lonely soul letting out a loud lament,
O, cloud, will you hear lover’s plea?
Unburden woes, take me to fly with thee.

To that heaven where my soul resides,
Where mysteries our souls abide,
In to the vast blue sky, take me for a glide,
To listen to the beats of her heart inside.

There is an ocean between us that divides,
Her heart is where my spring abides,
Take my feelings of love across the tides,
To her, message of love, my heart confides.
© K.Radhakrishnan

Bottled up emotions

Tossed away in life’s high and low tides,
Innumerable times I must have died,
Not physically but always emotionally,
Not clever enough to prevent it totally.

I tumble, I crumble and then crash,
Heart is burning, there is no trace of ash,
In the heap of rubbish I feel like a trash,
Wilted as nostalgia emerges in flash.

I let loose my tears when no one is around,
My scream is silent but my sighs do sound,
My soul has suffered a fatal wound,
When memories chase like a blood hound.

Buried in the graveyard of my memories,
Leaving only diaries with cryptic entries,
Even seconds seem too long like centuries,
Tossed by feelings and endless miseries.

The anger enveloped is starting to explode,
Containing tears that my eyes try to unload.
Bottled up emotions on the verge to implode,
As I lie crushed under this their overload.
© K.Radhakrishnan

Does Age Even Matter?

Through the wrinkles of time,
I feel that glow when I was at prime,
Spirit prisoned inside withered body,
Breaks free of age’s tyranny.

Leafless branches of tree of age,
Still dance in passion’s breeze,
In them love birds still chatter,
Does age even matter?

Unrestrained spirit still wanders,
In unknown spaces in search of wonders,
The antelope of my soul leaps,
For harvest of love to reap.

Aging can’t be my final destiny,
When soul savors life’s juicy recipe,
Till that time when life sings my final lullaby,
The blazing fire in me won’t dim and die.

© K.Radhakrishnan

If Humans Become Insensate

Ah, My feelings and your feelings,
Under their weight we both are reeling,
Some sprout from the core of the heart,
Some are results of malicious thoughts.

If suddenly emotions stopped flowing,
Would human society be still glowing?
Would life be worth going through motions?
When we do not comprehend affection.

Dead people buried beneath in graveyards,
Living dead will be roaming in courtyards
Emotions are the centers behind inspiration,
What’s life, if you can’t feel love’s vibration

Bards will disappear from this earth,
Bereft of emotions, will poems take birth?
No jubiliation at birth,no tears at death,
Is life worth sans melancholy or mirth?

Emotions prompt us to feel empathy,
Lest, we will be zombies full of apathy,
Nothing will be left to handover our legacy,
When we loose our human identity.

© K.Radhakrishnan

Museum of Nostalgia

I am inundated by deluge,
From nostalgic flow, no place to seek refuge,
Emotions aided to plot subterfuge,
Swimming against tide of feelings, so huge

Where time is transformed in to space,
In museum of nostalgia, I feel like a trash,
Between past & future, present suffers crash,
Will memories haunt me till I turn in to ash?

Passing through graveyard of memories,
Staring at ravine rumpled histories,
Some mysteries and loads of miseries,
Ended up as a victim even in victory.

Memory lane stretches like desert track,
Lost in that maze and never got back
Nostalgia haunts at every dawn’s crack
Tortured by memory’s mighty whack.
(C) K.Radhakrishnan