Meenas PoemsBelieve not your eyes
they would mislead you.
believe not your ears
they would lead you astray
believe not your intuitions
they would fail you
believe yourself wholly
that would take you to heights
eyes, ears, and intuitions
would strike a blow
do they not belong to you?
I am dumbfounded.
Call it wits
being one of hits
nothing in bits
actually it fits
could say it befits
as he sits
speaks with a grit
his eyebrows knit
walks away with a clean chit
Feel awed to look at the eternity
it 
be vast encompasses an infinity
amazing at times an image of greatness
fearful at times a picture of gruesomeness.
The eternity stares at me with a blink
I wriggle with fright and shrink
apprehensive of its magnificence
impossible to overcome being a deference.
I hide behind the canvas being one of makeshift
it enters through the breach found as rifts
I am caught unaware in the midst of a turbulence
am found in a terrible slot have no influence.
The eternity holds the sway in full grip
no way to escape and move on without a tip
I slip and treble in two’s and three’s
I am shelved and placed in a freeze.
The days together keep me in a precipitation
hasten to hold myself intact with a disposition
being one of a means to appreciate and applaud
the imperious presence of eternity all the more loud.
The fathomless ocean flows silent
the huge mountains remain still
the elaborate sky is sullen
the entire land appears quiet .
The small pond besides flows in ripples
the tiny hillocks never remain noiseless
the tiny stars create a sensational twinkle
the piece of land called cities indulge in a commotion.
Could we not see the distinctions as such?
the massiveness retains a sobriety
preserves a dignity and an effusive stoicism
a realization of being great and grand as much .
Could we not feel the awesomeness as such?
the passive watchfulness of one so high
compared to the noise of the small timers
a meaningless jibber jabber incoherent as such.
The sullenness of the great is prudence
their thoughts being sublime as all
those of which make noise bear no wisdom
being one of an empty vessel in reference.
Trying not to be personal
wish to avoid the “I”
sad to say it creeps in so easily
and I forget my vow in the nominal.
The “I ” intrudes as often possible
I plunge into it in a quick
it could lead to a stereotyped pick
as I elaborate not in syllables.
Try to keep away from the “I” as much
the bore I am all through in the days
plaintive and withdrawn in all ways
what could I write about as such?
My contemplation leads me nowhere
when I write am not myself in the real
I not remember what I write in the deals
look puzzled and confused without a share.
It is a fight between two
one being on the top of the other
the stronger one beat the other blue
the weaker one stands helpless rather.
The strongest walks away in pride
he marches past with a hearty laugh
feels he has taken the other for ride
thinks this could be the other’s last laugh.
The weakest walks with head bowed
he moves slowly with a lot of grief
agony and anguish places him in a limbo
with a let go attitude he concludes in brief.
All is not well with both of them as found
tides turn unexpectedly all of a sudden
the strongest loses his grip and is not sound
the weakest gains in every aspect feels no burden.
A story in a poem all the more being an allegory
the figures keep not the same all throughout
an event of jubilation today turns tomorrow turns gory
the transient be best seen in nature and man in and out.
Craft it is all the way
with meanings in many ways
the work of art in the place prime
skillful and lovely of times
lives beyond the means
small or big has been
a value with great spaces.
The other part of craft as found
could be one of behaviour all round
the scheming and the manipulation
as expressed in terms of association
insists a crafty way to deal
would enforce a knack in a steal
a dexterity not seen in all cases.
Reblogged from poesyon.blogspot.com
Message sent all around
one lot has gone through the round
the other one on the ebb of moving out
the information has been passed throughout.
Message been decked in a finery
the loveliest of cards in the itinerary
edges being of a golden hue
the fonts printed in a lovely blue.
The talk of the town being the event
the invitation adds a charm different
the message and the print being applauded
the celebration would be greatly lauded.
The invitation is just a message
does it need such a footage?
could be the thought of many including me
be it the outlook of individuals being in the spree.
That much being said of the invitation
a notice could be put in a crude fashion
that too serves the purpose as well
again could be the presentation in a tell.
Being a season
spring as could be called
no snow frozen.
Being a weather
spring as could be called
light as feather
Being a climate
spring time as being called
lovely in format.
One of four
spring time as being called
right on door.
One of grace
spring a surprise in all
a cherished gaze.
Meenas Poems 