Monthly Archives: November 2010

Nature And Man.


The nature of Man,

Is the way of nature.


 

 

As Thunder cracks the sky,

Man’s anger breaks the cry,

Letting an alarming, deafening sound.

 

 

As Lightening blinds the eye,

Man’s temper hits the tie,

Releasing an apprehensive, fearful stigma.

 

 

 

 

As Nature storms in raucous ,

Man behaves atrocious,

Posing a beastly, wicked   courage.

 

 

As nature floods uncontrolled,

Man causes troubles unbridled,

Implicating destruction, havoc  all through.

 

 

As nature emits heat  in full  form

Man  discharges fury in exact   norm,

Creating a scorching irritating, sensation.

 

 

 

 

As nature expresses biting cold,

Man proposes a scorn bold,

Slashing out an inhuman , contemptuous precision.

 

 

 

 

 

Nature too at times is pleasant,

Man too at times is  decent,

Delivering a delicate , wishful cordiality.

 

 

Man is Nature ,

Nature is Man.





The Mind in Itself


The mind in itself

Carries   a heavy load,

That no air bus,

Nor  Super fast trains,

Or the gigantic ships,

Take along with them,

On the air,

Across the country,

Over the seas.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The mind in itself,

Holds a package,

That no flights give out,

No railway lines promise,

Or Shipping companies put forth,

Offering a promotional fare,

Charting  a discount  tour,

Inviting a luxurious cruise.

 

 

 

The mind in itself,,

Levies a  bondage,

As it has a soft luggage,

Of happy thoughts,.

Of delighted  workings,

Also drag  a hard  side luggage,

Of  evil thinking,

Of devilish strategies,

Balancing each other .

 

 

 

 

The mind in itself .

Appears like a melting pot,

Blending and fusing races,

As it rejoices and rebuilds,

On one side,

It fumes and froths .

On the other,

As the pot boils   with fumes,

The mind triggers  with  force.

 

 

 

 

 

The mind in itself,

Can make a heaven of hell,

As the famous bard puts it,

It also can make,

Virtue into vice,

Beauty into ugly,

Sanity into insanity

Cause its capacity,

Is worth an infinity.





 

 


The Sparrow And Me


Tweeting all the way,

Down its causeway,

The little sparrow,

Sits on my window.

 

 

I go about my way,

Addressing my routine pay,

While the sparrow,

Flutters at the window,

 

 

I attend to the  call,

Of a distinct claim tall,

As the sparrow,

Chirps from my window.

 

 

 

I move around  the house,

Taking time to browse,

When the sparrow,

Perches above the window.

 

 

 

I finish up my chores,

Then close all my doors,

At once the sparrow,

Whistles across the window.

 

 

 

I  take a short  nap,

From the rigorous  lap,

Inching the sparrow,

Cackles from  the window.

 

 

 

Only now I barely see

This tiny lovely  wee,

Longingly  the sparrow,

Bids adieu from the window













How many Smiths?


It was  a real fun,

Compiling the run,

Of smiths on  a roll.

Listing in a scroll.


 

 

Starting with dazzling   goldsmiths,

Crossing  the  shiny silversmiths,

Down to the durable copper smiths .

A conjugation of all  fine smiths.

 

Renewing with decorative  pewtersmith,

Reaching the strong ironsmiths,

Finally to the basic  blacksmiths.

A congregation  of all  metalsmiths

 

 

 

Locking up with wordsmiths ,

Hanging on to  tunesmiths,

Hovering over playsmiths,

A jumble of all abstract smiths

 

 

The suffix smiths ,

Carry on a kith

Of specialized  craft,

And ornamental draft.

 

 

Suffix Smith is a forerunner,

To the modern prefix doctor,

It is an archaic  creative,

Befitting the new derivative.

 

 

 

All smiths  make things fine,

To earn and gain,

A skilful profession,

Which demands neat execution.

 

 

Do we find  many  more smiths?

Since the tabulation is a myth,

As I missed  the  most practical smiths,

That of  gunsmith and locksmith








 

 




A Midnight Call


The night was sombre and  still,

It was a dark and dreary  fill.

No stars to twinkle and  thrill,

Bereft of special  delight and frill.

 

 

 

The house  was in  a deep silence,

Everyone was asleep  by preference,

There was no possible reference,

But  there existed a plausible  observance .

 

 

Disquieting the  sullen  eloquence,

A shrill ring  triggered from a distance,

Awakening the household in deference,

Jolting everyone to incoherence.

 

 

Fumbling I make it to the phone,

Tumbling  I respond in a subdued  tone,

To   a shrill voice strange and  unknown,

While the caller  dropped the receiver down.

 

 

Cursing the  unfamiliar voice,

I go back  without a choice,

To my bed with no rejoice,

Seeking a fresh and  delicate invoice.





 

 





An Ode To Number Eight


Numbers are for counting,

Not for crowning,

Numbers are for Maths,

Not for tax,

Numbers are for identity,

Not for entity,

 

 

 

Certain numbers beckon the flock

But eight sucks,

As many dread its pluck,

Because it brings bad  luck,

Oh! it is a mere superstitious  buck.

 

 

Number Eight is propitious to Chinese,

As it is in their Cantonese,

A     gorgeous  appease,

Signifying prosperity and peace,

Carrying with it wisdom and release.

 


 

What does eight propound?

It is but another sound,

That is dressed up as a hound,

Extricating a deliberate  impound,

That of a curious found.

 

 

 

Imagine the order without  eight,

It makes an odd bite,

Leaving a void right,

Interpreting an imbalance  straight,

Voicing a  bill incorrect.

 

Oh!  It is up to all of us

To consider Eight  as an octopus,

And accept it as a plus,

That  evolves a gleeful buzz,

Reaping a meritorious  crush




 

 








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Revolution Of Gold


Revolutions  are so  many,

Which break the  thicket   dreary

By committing deeds  bloody,

By  insinuating speeches  fiery,

Resulting in  deadly eventuality.

 

 

The Yellow metal soberly,

Has turned the stones briskly,

By  rising gradually ,

To shoot up suddenly,

In a  buzzing move   graphically,

To an unassuming level sporadically.

 

 

Revolutions have  an end,

As they have a set trend,

Which is exhibited  in a brand,

Of high  vibrancy and demand,

While slowly the tension disbands,

Settling to  a subdued  strand

 

 

 

Will the same behaviour be  seen?

In the golden sheen.

Which emits an opulence  clean,

Leading to a grand mean,

Masquerading a royal   queen,

Resigning to a  modest lean.

 

 

 

Today it races ahead,

Tomorrow it will  behead,

But the thirst will spearhead ,

A  demanding   price spread ,

Soliciting a tumultuous  thread,

That of  an imposing  surge dread