Meenas PoemsIt is love
a true and great love
a love genuine
It is love
an erotic and passionate love
a love infatuated.
It is love
an affectionate and unrequited love
a love motherly.
It is love
well accepted and looked up
a love great.
So be love
different and different in love
altogether is love.
It is a temple festival
there is a carnival
year after year, it takes place
people from around race to see
the God with a personal plea
kavadis and paal kudams abound
the breaking of coconuts in the ground
has grown from hundreds to thousands
all along the procession route
their bhakthi bears fruit
the town council makes money
with the shops in makeshift funny
an amount of few hundred thousand
all from the rentals of hundred shops
a fairly good revenue each year
the council does nothing much to cheer
the management spends from their pocket
run the show without any brackets
the main aim is to honour the Lord
that they do without any fraud
nobility needs to be recognised
has to be honoured too.
A call just now
a friend of mine spoke
so innocent in a row
feigned innocence in hold
she never looks bold
certainly a character to watch
you could never catch
she is so slippery and pleasant
moves about in a manner decent
what is in her mind no one knows
as she makes no foes
goes on with an ease in all
very careful not to tread and fall
intrudes stealthily into others
straightens herself from their curse
I, for one, got carried away
I have seen through the play
hereinafter I should be awry
as she is a being very scary.
The transitoriness bewilders
happen to see a procession
one of a wedding on the north
another of a death on the south
the one so happy and merry
the other sad and sullen
distracted I stand with eyes hovering
what to make out of the incidents?
birth and death happen day in and day out
rejoice and pain occur one after another
the way life revolves with fun and frolic
the way it rotates with melancholy and sadness
nothing is there for years together
nothing is constant all along
I stand there with an understanding
the old has to give way to the young
the dry leaves fall as new ones shoot
this be the course of the life cycle
the dead and the fresh alternate
they could be the punctuations
a pause, a forward, a straight walk
all seen in the experience it unfolds.
Meenas Poems 