Meenas PoemsThe year is running fast
it is going to close
there had been many tasks
all marched in rows
the major factor being one of peace
which has been torn to piece
there being profuse gunshots and killings
Paris and Malte being the recent fillings
know not for what they kill en mass
the lives of thousands are at risk in toss
they kill others and themselves in course
the world is shocked beyond the force
the question why, why , strikes all through
not able to find the answer be that true.
It is so lovely and beautiful
bells are ringing
are singingIt was down the lane
bumps and potholes in the plane
faltered and slipped all the way
managed to walk with caution in a way
reached the destination all secure
it being a patient endure
could this be drawn in life too
where we live without any clue
what could be and what would happen
could the spirits freeze and dampen
anyhow life has to come to an end
after a negotiate through the bends.
A little over there
could be for care
there be nothing to share
did nothing to dare
nor did anything to fare
it lay plain and 
bare
could it be a snare
no not but being rare
it caught up in a flare
exhumed in the glare
be the end of the stare.
A walk by the lovely river
where there is no noise whatsoever
the flow of the river is music intense
the tweets of birds strike a cadence
the cool breeze strikes the face gently
being an inspiration lovely
the stray incidents of a dog’s bark in terms
heard occasionally in irregular rhythms
could be the only jarring notes all round
the trees stand majestically all around
solicit you with a love unknown and yielding 
what more could there be in the morning
a sullen and serene walk with an invigoration.
The green chilly
at times is small
smaller it is really
spicier it be eventually
the bigger it is incidentally
milder it becomes naturally
that goes with its size
have it seems nice
its presence is a must
never it is thrown into dust
a little of it adds taste
an excess forces one to turn haste
use it with a caution
instil a little deliberation
the glimmering green colour
would refresh you with a vigour.
.
A few days ago
not being long ago
a friend of mine called.
She had been away for long
did not hear from her for long
she being a close friend spoke.
We talked for hours together
nothing did bother
as we went on for a time.
It was a nice meeting of fun
discussed about terrorism and the gun
the hot topic of recent times.
Both of us were pained of the attacks
Paris in particular was ransacked
with hundred and twenty nine killed.
The cruelty seen in such moves
was beyond any prove
man killing man for no reason.
We sat silent for a moment in all
retrospecting the gunshots fall
a deadly silence followed.
What began as a warm up after long
got heated up almost in a way
this being a deliberation in a song.
Why do I write?
I do not know
What do I write?
I do not know.
yet I write
what I know.
Yet I write
why I do not know.
it is an illusion
could be a delusion
one of less illumination
not of great intoxication
a proposed invitation
beguiling a destruction
not one of relation
be that of distinction
might be a demonstration
one of great exhibition
of wealth in attribution
a slow decrease in denomination
could lead to an identification
the sale of properties in succession
could throw an indication
there be a paucity in distribution
be that the revenue deterioration
could be a marginal circumspection
around a debt in all addition
well, could be a suppression
of facts and truth in a faction.
Meenas Poems 