Meenas PoemsHe is a man
the most unwanted
he is still a man
the most despised
yet he is a man
the most characterless
he is a not a mere man
the most undesirable
he is a the most condemned man
one who breaks every law
he is the roguish man
the most disastrous
he shows himself up as a man
everywhere unashamed 
I am a woman
proud of being one
as one who could extend
the span of humanity
one who could beget and bring
the offsprings of hers to the community
not stop with the evolution
take care in the distribution
the child being a produce
could be not a deduce
of mechanical or agricultural merely
a being full of life and energy
a perspective far too grand
yet it prevails with a brand
the mankind as it is known in general
possesses tremendous potential
hone those into powerful skills
require a capacity power packed still
each woman is endowed with this frill
well, how to mould the produce is of interest?
depends on each woman’s ability put to a test
Am I not rightful in being proud?
I have given to society a little not in terms loud.
It could be a small issue
the way you take it matters
never go in for a reissue
as it would lead to a shatter
forget it with a magnanimity
wound and hurts remain for a time
dig and pull add to the gravity
never do those at any time
if unable to endure
move away for a while
that could 
cure
all maladies in style
try this recipe once
you will win hence
that be your own reward
Rama, the epitome of virtues
transcends all imagination
a man so superb and in blue
the colour of Rama a distraction
a wonder it has been all through
the dark king with principles
“ega pathini virathan” the topmost
one wife one man a syndrome exquisite
a characteristic unique to Rama almost
the concept so noble in stature and delicate
makes Rama an embodiment of nobility
Ramayana soars above all epics in nature
the
idealism adds to his dignity
so would it enhance other humans
let one woman be your wife always
consider the older as your mother always
while your contemporaries as sisters always
and the younger ones as your daughters always
would there be any sin in the world then? no way
never, as lust is the cause of all evils always.
A talk all through the evening
a conversation over the phone
I wait for the phone to ring
expect the most familiar tone
the weekends usually is fun
not like the weekdays
when I have to work in tons
tired and exasperated always
I relax on Saturdays
answering the successive phone calls
the one after another in a way
they be in the order never false
the first from my first born at the onset
enquires my welfare in words of choice
the next one from my second at the behest
in his inimitable way introspects on my poise
the final call from my little one when at rest
who interrogates my health status
all the three come up in different turns
the subject being I at all runs
it is the mother, the mother all the more
they could not think of anything more.
It was a blend of black and blue
came it with a dark hue
it looked pretty serene
a colour with a tinge of green
I was taken to the combination
could be not a distraction
a pleasant sense of modesty
could hold a strain of royalty
as blue goes with the imperial
it was nice and real
well, others felt it was too dark
does not suit those who are dark
the majority wins as always
I have to nod my head as always
acceptance has never been an issue
it is perhaps in my nerves and tissue
I would protest in the stage initial
finally, go with the loudest decibel
this could be the way out
not always, I concur throughout
at times I throw and walk away
I had been the loser any way
the colours black and blue
have brought my attitude true
An overseer in a plantation
talks of techniques of management
throws off all temptation
professes modesty in a tenement
says with an all know attitude
the owners need not oversee
he would perform with gratitude
the rightful could be
anywhere they choose
as he would take care
they believed him in all moves
and he did in a way fare
slowly got control of the whole
became he the master
as the owners lost their hold
I like to write
not with a bite
with a humour slight
a moral light
nothing more in bright
words come out straight
not get stuck with a fight
jumps out spontaneously
falls on the paper seamlessly
comprises to make a song instantly
I forget the poem immediately
go to write another one instantaneously
a way that has come up naturally
I write with no schedule
well, that in a conclude
is my life of late.
It is a shine all around
could it be an illumination?
nay, it is a smile all around
makes a shine like an illumination.
Smile with a kindness together
renders a brilliance in a move
yes, a smile is benign altogether
creates an ebullience in the move.
Smile lights up the face bright
the eyes seem to sparkle
nay, it is a turn all the way right
apparently like the stars in a sparkle.
It takes you all the way easy
with a smile you could win the hearts
yes, it is a ride not breezy
a beautiful
ploy to get into the hearts.
Age I with difficulties
mostly all my faculties
go in a tangent almost
my legs the most
right one goes east
the left one towards the west
I go through in a test
imagine how would I arrive?
I do it with a drive
pull the left this way
push the left that way
a coordination in a way
camouflage my limp tactfully
show others that I walk gently
the way I make up my gait
I go ahead straight
my eyes serve me well
no short or long sights as well
see through and read through fine
so does my hands in a bind
work with confidence great
without them I would become inebriated
then come my physic in full form
once it was slender and calm
now is bloated with the flesh all around
a rolly polly figure in the round
not much of a difference in my hair
always had a short and dark hair
has changed now to silvery hair
I have acquired richness in that way
silver turns expensive nowadays
grey hair is a sign of wisdom is the belief
I for one do not have such a sign, a great relief
I go with my thoughts very stupid in course
well, do not blame it is not my choose
I was born with little brains all the more
so I live with the faintest evermore.
Meenas Poems 