Meenas Poems
It is easy to dream.
They crowd the mind in a seam.
Making one beam.
It is easy to dream.
It forms a cohesive theme,l
Leaving the mind in a gleam.
It is easy to dream.
It solidifies into a lovely cream,
Rendering a pleasant deem.
It is easy to dream.
It flows like a stream
Releasing an inimical steam.
It is easy to dream.
It prompts a scheme,
Enabling an achievement supreme.
It is easy to dream.
It introduces a step extreme.
Telling that life is but a dream.
.
The birds twitter.
Their notes are not bitter.
The tune is a flatter.
The monkeys chatter.
Their talk does not matter.
The noise is an annoying banter.
Men act as if in a theatre.
Their behaviour is a conspiring falter.
What is happening right now?
“No one knows”, he says with a bow.
None knows what is happening now.
It could be a simple deal right now.
It could be a transaction initiating a bow.
What is in hold no one knows.
It could be prosperity in toe.
It could be misfortunes in a row.
Nothing should be anticipated now.
As everything is in a hotspot right now.
It was dark and serene.
Clouds moved across,.
lightning struck ahead,
thunder blasted over,
rains lashed with force,
the scene was sombre,
the light effect was dazzling,
the sound was deafening,
creating an orchestra,
neither of mirth,
nor of melancholy,
but of reality,
and of credibility.
It was a fraction.
It was a simple fraction.
It had a solution.
It was an easy solution.
Lo! it evaded a resolution.
Is it because I lost reason?
It is a style of living.
It is a lively visualizing.
It tells a lot of the being.
It is an honorable cruising.
The style gives a count.
It writes up an account.
Tells us about the deals paramount.
That adds up to the surmount.
The style reveals the person’s identity.
It portrays the scope of his individuality.
It measures the scale of his virtuosity.
It discerns his nature with an assiduity.
It is the style that makes a man.
It is the style that calls him a gentleman.
It is the style that hails him a good human.
It is the style that makes him a creditable man.
There he shoots.
Is it to runaway with a boot?
Or else to enter into a loot?
Much more to unplug the root.
More so to express hatred in a hoot.
Nay it is to kill the devotees in a sudden shoot.
Drastically to kill kids in an unexpected offshoot.
Thus introducing a bloody route.
Indeed the deal is beyond compute.
The aftermath is chronically acute.
Please, call him a wicked brute.
The ship was tossing over the ocean.
The wind was blowing in a fierce notion.
The waves were raging in a jostling motion.
There was panic and commotion.
It resembled
life in action.
A man tried to cross the road all carefully.
Counting each step he took attentively.
Tapping his way with a white long stick.
Expressing cheer without a slightest tick.
Another man followed him with ease.
With eyes focused elsewhere emitting a tease.
Waving an expensive mobile phone proudly.
Guffawing with impertinence rather hoarsely.
The first man passed through sensibly.
With ears wide open to sound totally.
With mind alert to the hubbub deliberately.
Walked ahead unscathed heroically.
The second one got caught in the milieu.
With ears stuck to the mobile with all due.
Absolutely engrossed in the talk all through.
Slipped into a tumble with a big hue.
The first one had eyes bare.
Saw only dark nothing rare.
Distinguished every sound to detail.
Took unhurried steps which carried him without fail.
The eyes of the second were bright.
Saw nothing beside the light.
Oblivious to sound on the right.
He was overthrown by a speeding car -a gory sight.
It is not the apparent loss that affects.
It is the real attention that diverts.
The challenged gets ahead.
The fit loses his head.
The work is round the clock.
It goes smooth without a block.
It is lively beyond the lock.
It is diligently enrolled into a flock.
Thoughts go round and round the clock.
They gather strongly through the rock.
They never assume a deriding mock.
They oscillate stealthily in a tick tock.
They drive towards a legitimate dock.
The results show publicly round the clock.
Some signify a joyous stock.
Some also denote a sad stalk.
They propose an acceptance without a shock.
They incessantly revolve round the entire talk.
The world is governed by the clock.
Actions occur in an ad hoc.
The living is through an interlock.
Disaster creeps in when anything goes anti clock.
A facile move instills a glorious knock.
Meenas Poems 