Anger equation hatred. Poetry vengeance

The Root Cause Of All Evil

The comparisons all the way

an equation in the sway

the left-hand side  is equal

to the right-hand side  a sequel

in algebra all the more

turns in real life a bore

a mother does this unknowingly

one child with another seemingly

a teacher does this with a show

one student with another in the row

these be the starting of animosity

a sharp blow on the virtuosity

anger surges in slow degree

hatred cumulates with a fury

leads to  vengeance and attack

end up in bloodshed in  a stack

the root cause for all evil in  real comparison

Anger disaster Poetry smelley

The Messy I am —A Disaster

it is the morning

the sun rises in the east

well, You would be knowing

I sprinkle water first

mixed with cow dung

around my porch  effusively

the odour begins now  with the dung

ithe inmates would find it  repulsive

but I, for one, go by tradition

on the green coloured patch

a kolam is done as a rendition

the powder is made out of rice

a pleasant smell adds up to the charm

My morning chores call me loud

meantime,  I rub my hair with gingelly oil

heated with  garlic and pepper

a mild pungent smell emanates

with the oil in my head

I grate the coconut and chop  the onion

add a pinch of asafoetida

I prepare the morning chutney

an aroma fills the air

it is so lively and appealing to me

you would think I am crazy

as you sniff and sneeze through

I rush to take my bath

apply shikakai  profusely over my head

turn the shower setting it to warm

a luxurious bath I undertake

much to your chagrin  and fury

while the house is wrapped with this odour

I come out  to dry my hair with the fumes

coming out from the burning cinders

that flare up with the sambrani  powder

the white fumes come up in circles

a faint pleasant smell to me in the go

the house now smells different

then I march into my kitchen

again to  the  onions, garlic and ginger

the dhal  and vegetables, tamarind  and curd

all combine together  in proportions

let out a mixed smell on the whole

my chimney extracts the most

certain times it  overworks

and fails to do a perfect job

all the food prepared  is packed

the remains dumped in the refrigerator

another treasure house of the  odour

the vessels are left to be washed

they release a  smell   offensive

as they lie there for hours

waiting for the arrival of the maid

the odour builds up  gradually

the atoms and the neutrons combine

the kitchen becomes  stuffy

I myself could not tolerate

I just close the kitchen door

throw open all the windows in the house

keep the main door wide open

.and sit waiting for my maid

I am happy , happier and happiest

to see  her come in

at last she is there

My maid comes in a hurry

opens the back door  with a heavy push

and in half an hour time cleans the vessels

dries them and arranges them in the shelf

dusts and sweeps the kitchen

washes the floor with  the cleansing liquid

the stove and the walls are wiped smooth

she attend to the washhng area with a dedication

never she is  miserly in the usage of water

it is I who think about water

as we have acute water shortage

she scrubs and mops the area  forcefully

the kitchen appears pretty smart and lovely

next she enters the main living are

sweeps and mops the floor

removes the dust and cob webs that hang around

does it so meticulously with care   and ease

as I sit there watching her

with an open mouth

my jaws open out in aghast

as to the mess I have confirmed

and the cleanliness my maid has affirmed

I am blogging for <a href=’‘ target=’_blank’>#SmellyToSmiley</a> activity at <a href=’\’ target=’_blank’></a> in association with <a href=’‘ target=’_blank’>Ambi Pur</a>

Anger Poetry sundued

Feuds And Fights.

The feuds and fights

turn ugly on stage

anger and fury

blow up in rage

that which is within

becomes more serene

that which is without

turns into a rout.

Quarrels at home in a range

should never break the verge

confined within the walls

would sound  less in  a call

subdue and subside when provoked

a burst out could never be revoked

behave not atrociously in a fold

a smile could be nice to behold

with that win the world.stock-photo-angry-father-and-son-having-an-argument-isolated-on-white-background-125366117

Anger blame deceit Poetry shift turn

Turn The Table.

Turn the table

a categorical expression

means a lot  if thought  intense.

Table is turned

a convenience literally

the space and the wish matters.

Table is turned

a convenience in a way

shift the blame and game with ease.

Turn the table

with a bang strong

you win though in a wrong.

Turn the table

with a tact smart

again you win the game subtly.

Turn the table

with deceit and anger

you might win the game thereto.

Turning  the table

holds you not for long

as your treachery surfaces slowly.

A moral we learn

a literal turn is yours,flipping_all_the_tables_by_nekoshiba-d570fy2 no issue

a planned turn lets you down.

Actions Anger Poem

Sensitivity Or Sensibility – I know Not.

depositphotos_5465097-Mother-and-daughter-arguingTake it or leave it
cried my mother.
Angry for what
I know not.
The sudden outburst
was unfamiliar
causing a feeling
of discomfort.
In a freak of anger
justifiable too
like mother
so the daughter
I threw the thing
I remember not
what it was
as years have
rolled and memories
have got rusted.
Sensitive was and is
my weakness as
everybody terms it
but I feel strongly
it is pride and
self-respect that
had held me and
is still holding me
in a status different
from the rest
many might dislike
me and only a
few would agree
with my sensitivity
or rather I would
address it as
sensibility am I right?

Actions Anger Poem

Take Care.

A little while ago
in the early hours
while getting up from bed
the telephone rang.

Gathering the body together
Took the receiver
heard a loud laugh with
a noise of clearing the throat.

Little bewildered on one side
and bit amused on the other
in a tone angry shouted
Hello , hello, hello thrice.

The laughter did not stop
went on for a few seconds
and a voice gruff
spoke in mono syllables

Take care of you
Take care of your belongings
Take care of your safety.
followed by loud laughter.

The voice was familiar
but changed to deceive
It was my friend’s
who plays such games for fun.

Fun or real
such calls are annoying
and cause a fear and dislike
early in the morn.



Actions Age Anger Experience Poem

Mind In Delirium

deliriumA mind which cannot rest at ease
involves itself in gossip limitless
talking ill of others is one way
slandering unmindful is another way.
Why and what makes me do so?
makes one wonder ever so.

That mind should be extremely disturbed
with issues that keep it constantly perturbed
either by a heavy irrevocable financial loss
or by erroneous repeated flaws.
The monetary part sends a shiver
while the mental agony sets in a quiver.

Talking incessantly about a person
whom you do not like for no reason
impressively tells that you are jealous
of he being progressive and prosperous
and wish to inflict a dent to his image
by reversing his trend by a senseless barrage.

Actions Anger greed Poem

Greed Conquers

greedy_handThe greedy hand
seized the brand
built with pain
let alone for gain.

The brand was a fruit
of a band cute
developing patents
to the able tenants.

In a limited time
the greedy claim
the rights as their own
usurping all in a tone.

The inventions
got a distinction
but this abrupt seizure
served as teaser.

Well, that being so
the avaricious in slow
snatch the whole
causing a drole.

No not what to do
the brainy brood
losing their rights
which go out of sight.

Actions Anger Poem silence


Ssilenceilence is golden is the saying.
It is a contradiction in the upswing
Keeping your mouth shut is not a virtue.
likely you resemble more of a statue.
Arming yourself with words for defence
will not at any cost bring you offence.
Where greed and competition get the best.
muting your voice will put you to test.
When evil and lies surge up to the front.
sitting tight-lipped will bring you brunt.
In this era this adage has been put to test
when all things good or bad demands a protest.

Actions Anger Poem

A Break Down.

The auto gate stopped working.
Pressing the remote with force
tried the best to induce moving.
Lo! it creaked hoarse.

It remained stubbornly stuck.
It was late in the night.
Shook the gate with a pluck.
It remained fastidiously tight.

Afraid to stand alone in the lane.
as there started thunder and lightning.
Lost patience and soon became insane
Heavy torrential rain started pouring.

Fully drenched I kicked the gate.
It was as adamant as a mule.
Cursing badly the fate
Got hold of a rusty tool.

With the tool lifted the railings from below.
Dried grass and leaves lay settled there.
Pulled the coarse stuff from the hollow.
It gave a clearance without a snare.

Drying my hand with a tissue.
Wiping the water from the face
expecting no probable issue
pressed the remote in phases.

Slowly the jam got released.
The gate moved with hiccups.
I was immensely pleased
as the gate went through a lap up.

auto gate.