Rare pieces of art
catch my eye
I wish to buy
the prices being so high
I refrain with a see
that keeps me in glee
I look at those with a sigh
oh! no, the prices are so high.
Category: Poetry
The monsoon has arrived
showers light and heavy
keeps us in a thrive
the heat taxes, not in a levy
the temperature has come down
the cool mornings with a drizzle intermittent
the noon that used to drown
with perspiration and discomfort incessant
has tamed incredibly to a mild condition
the evenings bring a cool wave bearable
while the nights extend a cold rendition
the days hereinafter would bring in cheer
a welcome respite from the scorching heat.
The tale goes like a tail
long in an elongation
a plausible story all possible
the deceit of a duo in a forfeit
they join hands in a conjoining
betray the third one in the fray
they have succeeded in a succession
amassed enough in en masse
continue to do so in the continuous moves
hope to elope with the plunder
would they ? a curiosity out of the woods
have to wait to find how they behave
I am so finicky
a touch me not
an introvert in all
resolute and focused
Do I look crazy?
well, that is what I am.
Talk to a few only
could talk no more
settle within my circle
never want to extend
Do I sound silly?
well, that is what I am.
Like not to dine out
the little I eat
has to be from home
confined to the home
Do I seem cranky?
well, that is what I am.
I spend time gazing at the sky
the stars twinkle
the moon shines
the sun scorches
I find an equanimity with them
Do I resemble a fool?
well, that is what I am.
I read books many
listen to music often
imagine me to be a writer of fame
write, what I know in a stroke
Do I speak like an eccentric?
well, that is what I am.
I am very sensitive
hurt I get in a wink
when bruised I sob
withdraw as quick as I can
Do I take the cue of a lunatic?
well, that is what I am.
Grades do count
in physical, material and mental
notch the top.
Categories
The Long Chat
it is a long chat
going on for hours
could it be for a progression
would it be for a promotion
is it a kind of retrospection?
I watched the discussion
far from any observation
could hear only voices
should I call it a noise
could it relate to any choice
Does it hold anything of poise?
I contemplate all the while
as they enter the details to a file
would it reflect anything in style?
could it lead to a succession in a trial?
nay nothing to that in the dial
it is a time passing one
more so of a time killing one.
It is radiance
Bright and one of brilliance
Not one of the outward light
Where the sun fills up in blight
The resplendent mind
Shines wih a smile kind
Not that the charm lies in a deign
Exudes from a look benign
Compassion is a lively spirit
Found mostly in the Holy Spirit
Seen in man not so much in fact
If expressed he eludes the pact
Rises to the level of Gòdliness
A harbinger of graciousness,
Curry leaves green and aromatic
Grow in rows systematic
Reach up the heights
The plant is slender and light
Abound in my garden at the back
Th vendor comes with a sack
Plucks the leaves so fast
Not a single leaf is lost
Stuffs the sack to te full
The filled ones look like a bull
Bulging on all sides unviably
Lifts each one with ease
The weights strike a tease
One enormous sack weighs very less
Perhaps a few kilos in test
Pays a paltry sum in the end
Lifts the curry leaves with a bend
Walks with a real freight
A good bargain all straight.
Categories
Character Assassination
Caught in the middle
unable to face all
Stood morose and forlorn
knew not what to do
Could pity her at the most
She being at fault
Having committed a crime
Not anything simple
Akin to a murder
Mean I not literally
Mean I the alleged
An indirect kill
Her words and thoughts
Pierced and bruised
Tore and tarnished
Hurt and caused a death
Well, she is an assasinator
Being that of a character.
A pleasant evening it is
Cool breeze kisses me
It talks to me with love
The voice soft and sweet
I, being alone at home
With none to talk
I pour my heart
All my feelings come out
cry, laugh and share
Talk,scold and fight
A play I indulge
With joy and grief
All through the days
With my friend the breeze.
Meenas Poems 