Meenas PoemsThe music I hear
causes a tear
the heart cries
the soul stirs
the eyes of the poor
though not speak words
express feelings of hurt
their suffering mostly silent
sings many a song
of struggle and scarcity
their hands bear
scars of toil red and black
their feet have blisters
the nails all broke
niggard they are
hear them rant
ignites a fire
that rises up
darkens the cloud
pours down as rain
a feeble way
to assuage their bruise
smothers now and then
keeps them in the 
flow.
While taking a walk
saw two men talk
I passed them with a nod
A few steps ahead
crossed a reptile with a small head
I hopped over it without a fall.
In a little distance
two sparrows flew very low
I deviated with caution not to hurt.
As I turned right
a cat jumped from the wall
scared for a moment I stood still
Continued my sojourn
came back to the start
saw the men in conversation.
Talk the men all along
for hours together even longer
know not what for
yet they carry on.
Within a day
all went away
it is in such a way
the ill -gotten wealth
disappears in the fray
the greedy hoards
diffuse in the sway
the self-conceited designs
fly from the rays.
the hurriedly piled stock
turns into hay
the evil thoughts
strikes back in a pray
such be the way
within a day 
The man prays
with fervour and intense piety
seeks immediate redemption
The clock before me oscillates to and fro
sullen and sober it is indeed
the movement is in perfect flow
right and left it goes in a lead
the clock performs with the perfection
at one point it loses its exactness
at times gains minutes infractions
at other loses hours in tardiness
a winding at the least corrects its run
or a repair at the most sets it right
lest it climbs into the attic be no fun
as one of the old unused ones out of sight
sure, it might one-day jump from above
and surface with a demand unknown
as antiques command great value in glow
this one a fifty years from now
would fetch a fortune to my 
children
who would think of me for a moment
when they count the dollars in earnest.
Have you heard of a mediator
who does his job for years
he is honorary in a sense
a beneficiary in another way
comes on and off
talks to one and all
most times knows not
what he talks about
sent as an emissary
by his closest ones
all involved are relatives
the one who forces
is the most indulgent
drawn to each other
not out of love
but of an alliance
the mediator represents him
perhaps to an extent
another one also
know not for what cause
he is biased and unfair
with intentions plain
with ties more prominent
he blabbers in a write intermittently
where one could see the voices of those
who make him do for their welfare
he commits himself not for honour
but for material wealth not to him straight
would pass on to his offspring
the self-conceit is transparent
he is a disguised villain.
Out of the box
could be ideas or thoughts
different from regular.
Thinking far beyond
with the futuristic in mind
leads to growth.
Ideas far ahead
with the possibilities in focus 
instils great confidence.
The hot afternoon
the sun makes one swoon
a glare through the window
enters suddenly like a shadow
the gleam is so bright
the shadow grows to a height
it expands vertically
not anyway horizontally
hops into the area lightly
walks through unobtrusively
followed its move scrupulously
could never keep track regularly
it crossed and turned now and then
tiptoed up and down 
all in an abrupt silence
fear kept me in abeyance
I stood there for long
know not how long
with eyes wide open in a faze
I was locked in an unexplainable daze
The ideas that crowd the mind
at times clog and clot.
The one interrupts the other
the lesser one overtakes the greater
the trivia usurps the importance
the grave slips back
the teeming of thoughts
need a stop and a break
time to mature and get through
till then there should be a pause
time t brood and hatch
an over-enthusiasm could spoil
destroy and mangle the growth
turn and twist the flourish
a caution should lie there
a comprehension should follow.
I break the fast
with a glass of water warm
it goes down very fast
all with a trickle calm
flows into the throat
clears it with a smother
takes its downward route
cleanses the path without a bother
a simple drink rather
colourless and odourless in nature
bereft of taste altogether
yet possesses enormous features
least expensive to gather
lesser to none in value
a quench thirster to all
factually irreperable and invaluable
imagine the plight in call
if there be no water at all.
Meenas Poems 