agitation. Poetry

What for the agitation?

A flash strike there arose

placards and slogans came forth

the shouts went up  the sky

the anger came from nowhere

the strikers marched forward

held the traffic for a time

the city  turned stand still

what for is the strike?

nobody knew for true

the pedestrians joined the queue

the drivers alighted from the vehicle

up the strikers went ahead

shouting with a fury more so

their eyes all red with fire

voices turned hoarse

Go away! Go away!

cried the agitators

the police came

burst teargas

the crowd fled

it was all over

in  a few minutes time


no one knew

who was the target?

None knows.

Holi Poetry

The Display of Colours —Holi

The display of colours

orange, red and blue

come with a wish true

orange for the blossom

red remarkable for  a caution

the ocean reflects the blue

seen from the sky

so go the colours in a varied spectrum

the yellow, green and pink

the sun’s rays go for yellow

green a sign of prosperity

while the pink a sense

a  caricature of  love

as girls have an inclination

the soft mildness enhance

with that we go along

a speech for so long

cause not a slur

creates an enhancement

one of a tricky tone

well that is a way we win

a success found in colours

I go again with them

red, blue and yellow

come with me to sing

green, red and pink

a great going in a strength

that be it in all its chorus

that be with it in all its ambiguity.Holi

performance. Poetry

The Course Of Life

Easy to point  a finger

the anger could trigger

an animosity in the larger

there are ways to say

accusation is not the only way

firm words would keep one in a  bay

before that look at yourself first

are you, above any criticism in test?

could you render your best?

if given an opportunity

say it with all humility

if yes, take up with  courage

perform without any demurrage

halt your curse with an action

enjoy the sanction the credit be yours

the credit be yours

hereafter let it be your course.quote-clean-your-finger-before-you-point-at-my-spots-benjamin-franklin-328235

forgetfullness. Poetry

Not A Penny.

Part of the way

I went in a bus

with not many a person

a four  or five altogether

absolutely no sound whatever

reclined  and dozed off

the breeze lulled me to a siesta

past the town I had to get down

the fellow passengers had alighted

I was the one left out

the driver sped ahead

the bus entered the busiest town

had to slow down to negotiate

perspiring I woke up

found that I had travelled very  far

straightened  I in a hurry

ashamed of my carelessness

got down with an awkward smile

the driver cast a  knowing glance

happens these things to me now

not once but in occasions more

reasons could be varied

I detest to examine Neck_pillows_in_action

as they are  worth not a penny