Meenas Poems
He is known for irrelevance,
as he talks full nonsense.
He destroys valid reference,
as he records his own inference.
He manipulates on preference.
as he commands no reverence.
He speaks not with evidence.
as he relates to abnormal incidence.
He is a man with no sense.
He absorbs no substance,
but releases vengeance.
Keep him in abeyance.
As he is a certain nuisance.
Woke up in the morn,
to the tune of a song.
The sun mirthfully shone,
amidst the gleeful throng.
There was a mild sound,
which came along.
That expressed in a lovely tone,
an arrival of a new-born.
Crying in full throat,
the babe made the entry.
Alerting everyone with a short
sharp notes similar to a sentry.
Revitalising the surrounding
with a charming frenzy.
That brought out aloud,
the arrival of the new-born.
The anticipation turned out
to a passionate excitement.
The anxiety converted itself
into a delightful predicament.
There arose a tranquillity
embedded in peace and contentment.
That delivered in all serenity,
the arrival of the new-born.
Tossing in the bed she lies.
Wrinkling her brows she cries.
Twisting her nose she tries.
Biting her lips she controls.
Up she gets out of her bed.
Over her eyes look red.
Above she knocks her forehead.
High she stumbles ahead.
In she walks along the aisle.
Into she stutters over the trail.
Inside she breaks like a frail.
Inward she flutters as a gale.
Out she rushes out of the gate.
Outside she maintains her gait.
She attains the status of a feature.
She achieves a celebrity in structure
She embarks as a classical figure.
Oh! she is nothing more than a poor creature
Rituals keep us tied down.
Religion makes us bow down.
Commitments compel us to flow down.
Fear forces us to lie down.
Distress tracks us almost down.
Struggle combats with thrust down.
Survival is the only thought that blows down.
A child over there,
sits in a corner,
with nothing to share,
looks like a loner,
none to care,
expresses a sordid groan,
nervous like a hare,
crys like a mourner,
confined to a bare,
thinking aloud no sooner,
falls down in scare,
collapsing every other in a flare,
well, that is the end of the fair.
Heard of slice of bread for sure.
It keeps the tummy full all the more.
Heard about the slice of cake not unsure
It makes the lip smack ever more.
Heard about the slice of life in an assure.
It is a narration of experience nothing more.
Bread is for sustenance no doubt.
It is the basic requirement for all.
Cake is for a difference no doubt.
It is a desired inclination for the tall.
Life is a reference no doubt.
It is a practical restoration before a fall.
Slices give directions almost.
Leading to an enactment in their way.
Survival is never a question most.
Enjoyment is also never a problem most.
Pulling on is ever a challenge almost.
So slices are but reactions definite at the most.
Drought prevails all over.
Rivers are brown in a stop over.
Grass has turned yellow in a make over.
Cattle look pale
white in a drop over.
Men appear faintly dark in a hang over.
drought extinguishes all spirit in a fall over.
The head started to ache.
The pressure was on all sides.
It was a horrible take.
Everything went against the tides.
The exertion was unbearable to take.
There was none to guide.
The living was only for sake.
It was difficult to ride.
Would the pressure turn out to be a break?
Would it work out to be a long abide?
Nothing seem to be conducive in the track.
All looks incredibly black.
The move was gradual.
Things were at level.
It was time to revel.
There was a tumultuous arrival.
Much fanfare was seen in the appraisal.
It was a grand revival.
The introduction was an approval.
The course was absolutely referral.
It was nothing but crucial.
The enactment was graceful
The theme was paradoxical.
It was subtly satirical.
The trend was medieval.
Imitating the Chaucerian parable.
It was exorbitantly rhetorical.
Everything was in measured ritual
Nothing rushed to a heady trouble..
It was a tempered bubble.
Money is found everywhere.
It is found in stones in fare.
It is seen in paper all fair.
It is the cynosure of all eyes in glare.
As paper becomes currency to share,
doubling comes into play albeit to bear,
While stones are mined from earth bare,
Value enters the fray with care.
When diamonds are excavated in places rare,
created finds its way in the market with blare.
Gold rush gets ahead with a snare.
desire brings about a shy dare.
The longing for such is insatiable in a ware.
Calling for a buy out in quantities is a trap flare.
It exceeds the capacity in an exhaustive bear.
Throwing out everything out of gear.
Meenas Poems 