Meenas PoemsHurt and pain deters me.
Have a body and mind
sensitive to the core.
A small prick, one like
the thorny thistle
leaves me sore.
A simple gesture,a sly
smile or a wink
lets me humiliated.
Experiencing the discomfort
without a revelation
is my strength.
My uneasiness remains
invisible to others.
The best of my weakness.
Those others
consider I am thick skinned
continue their chastisement.
Broken I am,
helpless I stay
with untold bruise.
Being a kind of division
one of properties
where the lands
go through a trisection
looks like long tails.
It has to happen
as the majority
could not find a way proper
the remaining one being
a minority has to accept.
The division being over
comes the difficulties
one after another,
that being very practical
of management in general.
Resigning to the facts
the lone share holder
works the means
for a smooth transition
well aware of the expenses.
Taking possession
the major holders
go ahead to negotiate
sale of the lands
a twist to the tale.
Hearing about the incident
I sense a behaviour
quite strange. Why did
they fight all these years?
and spend hundred thousands.
Bewildering as always!
lie my literature
books.perfectly bounded
neatly covered in
brown.
They are my proud
possession, been
with me for years
right from my
college days,
Those days,
how I read line by line
the poems and dramas.
how much I enjoyed,
how well I performed,
History Of English Literature
a wholesome edition,
a bit of a drab, one of facts
posed a challenge, had to go through
with effort to sit for examinations.
As I turn the pages
I go back to my classrooms.
the voice of my professor
reading the play
“AS You Like It” lingers.
It being one of the comedies
of Shakespeare, excites
bears lot of fun,.The professor
becomes involved, thinks herself
as Rosalind, she goes into a frenzy.
As memories crowd ,
I keep back the books
again in order. Might be,
the next time, I reach out
I should spend little more time.
Ah! the good old days.
One of a day
without events ,
a kind of a drab,
I see the skies.
They look different,
the bluish tinge
is lost it is dirty brown,
expresses no moves.
Being a rare
phenomenon, I squeeze
my eyes , ponder deep.
scan through the vastness.
Unable to trace
any life factor,
I go through the
weather bulletins.
It reads,there prevails,
a haze. The smoke
from the neighbouring
country encircles.
The way it goes ,
none can stop
either means
by weapons or bilateral talks.
quite unusual.
Looks as though heaven
has become another habitation.
where the good and the bad
exist in a dynamic flow.
In days of old the heaven
held only the righteous,
They are not to be seen
so Heaven opens the gates to all.
In the midst, the place of glory
turns into one of condemnation.
allowing the unscrupulous
to reside with no fear.
It remains a congregation
where vice and folly converge,
leaving the few of the standardized
men to cope with the anarchy.
I dream often
in the nights
while I sleep sound.
I do have such fantasy
while I remain
wide awake in the
mornings.
None of them
have come true.
I hear many have
realized their dreams .
One of my relatives
interprets with precision
each one’s.
I do not wish
to disclose those
of mine to her
as they belong to me
I am possessive
to the core.
I keep them
within me.
The kinds of
dreams are
too many,
They harp on
joy, harbour
fear, castings
of sorrow
overcome.
Some stay in mind,
most fade soon
without registering.
Dreams are simple
being the outcome
of repeated thoughts
that come with no evidence.
Transparency is an ideology ,
the most required one
being very hard to find
the world being
filled with untruth
fraudulence.
Frankness, is idiosyncratic.,
a rarity as the teeming
population are deceitful,
masquerade and act
like one who is most
innocent and an
epitome of all goodness.
Possessing these two
are virtuous but disallow
fame and prosperity.
Few accept these
the rest pay no attention.
Ideologies never
earn a reward.
An afterthought perhaps,
rockets sent to other planets
in the garb of research,
renders a vulnerability
that being one of counter.
Those from the Moon,
and Mars invade earth
with their tools
National disharmony,
international disputes,
make the earth bleed,
Disaster overwhelms,
Not enough,
Man goes knocking
i the ethereal,
raps the planets,
swims into them
wishes to colonise.
A kind of greed,
termed adorably as
technological progress,
will land us in Moon,’Mars,
Jupiter. The reciprocal
will be tumultuous.
Beware!
A creamy white glitter
almost a perfect circle.
smooth and fluffy
embedded in a dark
non metallic like structure
gleams with a brightness,
not dazzling,
catches the eye.
Unable to take the eyes
from the beautiful one,
I gaze at the amazing
feature. Not only I
but many others like me
stuck by the loveliness
drink the milk of grace
with pleasure.
That be of this gracious one,
oscillating prettily,
a resource of bliss and happiness
turns an object of research.
Scientists attempt to reach her.
Few of them have stepped on her
The other one is almost there,
rattling her composure.
Technological progress,
being an achievement,
extends its sway
over the externals.
the zones where
tranquility nestles.
Besieging the graceful Moon
is the latest task, one to
dishevel the transcendental.
Politicians. a strange
breed,make and mar
the nation they rule.
Few of them, exceptions
turn the land into a haven
of peace and prosperity.
Most loot and rob in speed
empty the exchequer
tear and tarnish the nation,
Spouses fattened by
power and money, raise
a family with no morals
Unbridled grows the
man’s avarice, reigns
with unlimited power.
Little they realize.
at the drunken state.
nothing is permanent.
That which jacked them
to heights pulls them down
to unexpected depths.
Wherever it be,India
or Malaysia,the hands
of justice strike with a force.
Condemned to jail
the man stays in
ignominy. His plunder
lies safe in the lockers.
revelation leads to prison.
Ignominious. The path
of greed seals the
ride to honour.
Meenas Poems 