Meenas PoemsA lover of classical Carnatic music.
An avid reader, passionate writer, into stocks and investments for livelihood
The crowd in high spirits
is not drunk so to say
stands very sober in a way
not intoxicated by whiskey
as many close
Happiness is the nectar
entices an exaltation
send a 
hypnotic vibration
that goes beyond the realm
a sensation transcendental
felt only when experienced
Like to have no door at all
closeted within oneself securely
letting out none from outside
suppressing any from the inside
a door is an opening of necessity.
Like to have a narrow outlet
with the requirements to come into
a stop of the undesired with a force
a limited open to the outside
a door is an opening of necessity.
Like to have a door of my choice
let alone the good into
drive away the bad out of the way
a lovely entrance to the inner and outer
a door is an opening of necessity .
There was a meet a fortnight ago
a family meet in the go
where the cousins
converge and diverge
enter they in high spirits
come out with demoralized ethos
their egos on display
the power reigns supreme
the wealth takes the reign
as in all society
there are classifications
the superlative shadows the rest
a prowess of strength in a show
nothing concrete on the go
talk they of their ancestors
year in and year out
Is it the way to commemorate?
I really do not know .
I am part of the family
an onlooker for a few years
now mostly out of it
nothing personal as such
the audacity overwhlems
that be their way in style
a protest becomes impossible
with certain stipulations in sway
that be my status
a Hameltian dilemma
“To be or not to be.”
After a break of two months
I saw my friend perched up
grinned she at me with a nod
scratched
her head frantic all mad
jumped and scuttled with glee
somersaulted in the air many a time
rushed up to me in full force
quickly slipped I inside the house
reciprocated her welcome from inside
she down cast walked back to her place
.I cried ,’ My friend , be not disappointed.
You are so overwhelmed with joy’
I am overcome by fatigue
Let us meet a day later
till then “adieu: .
She never turned back
The fever rose high
the cough kept me in a tie
the wheeze pushed me to a try
in the middle of travel across the ocean
knew not how to manage the rest of the portion
the persistent cough with the bellow
the whistling wheeze in the shallow
the fever took me to the gallows
I travel with such discomforts
the destination is afar still
There are rains copious
floods extreme in a part.
There be drought severe
driest ever in another part.
There is no moderation as such
the one overtakes the other
a phenomenon not in touch
over the bygones in demeanour
A storm and a quake sudden
rocks the world with velocity
the earth succumbs to the burden
quivers and collapses instantly
the status of the land is unpredictable
a thrive is seen greatly on one side beautifully
a ruin on the other casts a mark indelible
rare to find a juxtaposition in keen
wonder at the erratic nature of Nature
There was a woman
not been known much
lived in oblivion
died so in the dark
bore the suffering
tolerated the humiliation
breathed her last seven decades ago
comes from nowhere
almost like a volcano
grandchildren cry with love
attribute her qualities with pride
stand I bewildered in shock
the mind prods and feels stuck
anything gone amiss ?
anywhere to anyone.
Men do remember
not in times of prosperity
only in periods of distress
they recall the bygones
more so their ancestors
This way my curiosity wo
nders
Well, I know not why
am I the only one to think so
then let me be the odd one out
The itch on the foot, a sensation
denotes a travel, a schedule
this be the saying old
when experience played subtle
to the interpretations in a way
might be a coincidence unobtrusive
yet it was incidental in a blend
one leads to another a chain
backed by the offer a link
that way many trends
came into quite unaware
turned authentic in the course
a lively precursor they sound
herald they a happening
great or small in sense
a fine modulation in the round.
The itch on the foot, a sensation
denotes a travel, a schedule
this be the saying old
when experience played subtle
to the interpretations in a way
might be a coincidence unobtrusive
yet it was incidental in a blend
one leads to another a chain
backed by the offer a link
that way many trends
came into quite unaware
turned authentic in the course
a lively precursor they sound
herald they a happening
great or small in sense
a fine modulation in the round.
Long ago it was the quality
that of man mattered
gone are the days
when monetary played no role
come now the hours in a twinkle
where finance have control
leave alone the economy
encompass on whole every trial
the life under a fiefdom
expresses a servitude
where success prevails
where power wields
while grace being beaten
the poise lies crippled 
come there in magnificence
status with money on line
that be the eventuality
Could it be a virtuosity?
Meenas Poems 