Meenas PoemsGold is lying over there uncared for!
Gold is strewn over there afar
Gold is found in heaps and piles ,
Gold is thrown out like broken tiles,
Gold lies untouched by anyone,
Gold brings lust to none,
The yellow metal lies dormant and idle
The shining commodity lacks sheen and bridle,
I go on with my untrue false ramble
I wish it becomes a truly real preamble.
People go to polls with an expectation,
Hoping for a change in the composition,
Of governance and administration,
Having in mind the progression,
Calling for a healthy representation.
Politicians go to the polls with an expectation too,
Anticipating a wealth accumulation unto,
Of land and money altogether into,
Counting the currency and commodity too and too,
Relying on a resounding victory all too.
Elections took place in Tamil nadu with full force,
The leaders campaigned the polls with an intimate browse,
Extending Televisions, laptops and few grams of gold in the course,
Rambling out promises in a high throated roars,
Fooling the people in well conceived pros.
Karunanidhi claims a victory with ease,
Jeyalalitha harps on a triumph of full freeze,
Each engaged in a prattle of unhealthy tease,
Battling on an embittered seas,
Awaiting another innings with most appease.
Penny wise pound foolish is the Tamils motive,
Pounding on free throws and sops like a captive,
Gaping at the gaudy sly leaders like a fugitive,
Enthralled by the politicians gestures in a transitive,
Tamils follow them in a trance and thrill emotive.
The leaders with their family march ahead with a pace,
Clinging to their children both legal and illegal in trace,
Carrying with them a wholesome baggy brace,
Putting forth an ever smiling and charming face,
Creating a significant thoroughfare of grace.
After few months,
People sell the televisions and gold in times of need,
Poverty in no little time strikes a blow on the breed,
Leaving them in the mercy of the political creed,
Terminating the mirth into a bloody bleed
As a toddler I saw balloons floating in the blue sky ,
As a girl I saw kites flying up and up in the sparkling silver sky,
As a young lady I looked up at my degrees blowing up in the beautiful orange sky.
As an old woman I gaze at my birth rights rising up in the dark grey sky.
Right! My stakes are visible nowhere now 
in the dense dark sky.
Going into the deep woods one day,
Found a profound serenity in the lay,
The silence reflected a stirring tense,
Keeping the 
solitude in presence,
To call out or not was the play,
Which kept on haunting all the fray.
It was an abysmal deal out,
Crossing the inroads was a fall out,
Yet moved in measured steps to the intense,
To find out the mystery in its substance,
Enacted with a charming relevance.
The song of the woods was a delight,
Composed of a music of the elite,
Comprehensive of the cackling and hooting,
Conducive to the mood insinuating ,
Instilling a refreshment warming.
Birds tweet with a gay sound,
Which reverberates all around,
The blowing of the winds in a whistle,
Comes back through the dangling thistle,
Inviting all to a sanguine bristle.
The humming of the river is a tune,
Which in the course of its flow attune ,
The thunder and the storm cast a spell,
Which echoes in a vociferous bell
Provoking the area to a numbed shell
Life gives back in leaps and bounds .
What it takes from you without a sound,
The more you sow seeds of kindness
The more it repays in kindness,
Consisting great and gracious kindness
The quality is of much importance,
In speech it delivers eloquence,
In product it evokes radiance,
In architecture it builds elegance,
In thoughts it emulates quintessence.
The strain has a beautiful execution,
It reflects a lovely rhythmic presentation.
It is founded on a keen delineation,
It works on a clean foundation.
It blossoms into an enigmatic resolution.
Quality is a grade not very much apparent,
It is an inborn and inherent atonement,
It is a classic and a rare achievement,
It is a discipline and a fine tenement
It is a virtuous embodiment.
Discerning through the affidavits of life,
Tracking the systems of strife,
Delving into the intricacies of attitude,
Wading through the shores of ingratitude,
A portrait unfolds.
Sailing across the sea of humanity ,
Riding over a bridge of incongruity,
Driving through an undulating land
Flying over a fathomless ocean grand,
A picture opens.
Lying on a sandy beach with tides flowing high
Dreaming about a castle in the sky,
Intoxicated by the pleasures abstract,
The excitement descends intact,
An ecstasy unravels.
Listening to a chaste melody,
Losing oneself in its rhapsody,
Smiling with carefree thought,
Swinging along a beautiful slot,
A beauty endows.
The eye wanders with a predicament
Till it catches a glimpse of a rudiment,
The heart roams with an estimate,
Till it romps on a soul affectionate,
A grace bestows.
The mind gathers no wool,
As it gets attuned to the blissful,
The soul travels with no fringes,
As the body lies without any twinges,
Death slowly descends..
A little town in the banks of River Perak (Sungei Perak)
Mostly onto a lethargic slow track,
With a population of less than hundred thousand,
The town Teluk Intan or the Bay of Diamond,
Rises up with a sluggish shrug every morn.
A sleepy town with no hectic sojourn,
With no urgent motions to adjourn,
The oil palm plantations spread all around,
Fishing across the rivers with no sound,
Keep the fire burning at home.
The three races live with a friendly link,
Each one supporting each other at a wink,
At the surface it is a combination homogeneous,
Beneath the depth it is mixture heterogeneous,
Yet there dwells an impressive unity.
The archaic silence gets out-of-place,
The mid April sees a festival of grace,
Chithra pournami brings in cheer and spontaneity
All in a show of devotion and offerings in variety,
Awakening the town to an ecstatic celebration .
The Lord Dhandayuthapani in Teluk Intan is up
Nine decades ago the Nattukottai Chettiars s set up ,
The temple of worship in their business place
Hosted a week-long festival in honor Of Lord’s grace,
Paying obeisance and respect to the Almighty.
The small beginning has led to a great progress,
Which not only rewarded them in business,
Also blessed them with other largess,
Prompting them to hail the lord,
As their all-powerful God.
The mercy of the Lord spread all through,
The beauty of Muruga captivated everyone true,
The Procession of Lord through the streets,
Proves a sumptuous grand treat
Enthralling the devotees to 
a divine bliss.
Violence and rebellion disturb the world in great velocity,
Bloodshed and killing diffuse the world in atrocity,
Greed and treachery dissolve the world in falsity,
Natural disasters devour the world in alacrity ,
The frontiers of the world are hacked by ferocity.
The colossal vacuum encodes the style sheets of behaviour,
The fallacy of physical threat encircles the anterior,
The impudence of barbarian attestations blot the exterior,
The arrogance of power and wealth debar the inferior,
The muscle and money clamber to be the superior.
Curiosity and intelligence dwell in a far away land,
The ascendance of terrorism has diminished the stand,
The prominence of wisdom has lost its brand,
The eloquence of intellect possess no magic wand,
The quotes of the scholars are no longer grand.
Ancient royal courts held presentation of poetry,
Critics put forth a researched criticism literary
Kings honoured the poets with encomiums flattery,
People revelled in immense celebration happily,
Permeating the environ with distinctive creativity.
Passions keep us active and rolling,
Music lights many a mind with intense feeling,
Reading enlightens most with a noble calling,
Writing infuses everyone with a scholarly dealing
Others hold all with a delicious passing.
It may be one or the other that keeps us in mood,
Music softens and smothers us with a cadence good,
Reading inspires and initiates a literate brood,
Writing enhances and entertains a category shrewd,
Others restore and retain an intricate skill not crude.
Music is the food of love and entertainment,
Reading is the fruit of knowledge and enchantment,
Writing is the seed of wisdom and achievement,
Others are flowers of peace and contentment.
Thou knoweth all passions synchronise and sustain
Bales of cotton are opened up ,
The Blow room is set to gulp,
The cotton is beaten into a lap
Which roll out in a snap.
The lap is fed into carding,
Where they undergo a cleaning,
The sliver is sent to the draw frame,
Which recovers the fibre from blame.
The simplex machine contributes the hank ,
The spinning frames commit the quality rank,
Where the fibre is spun without blemish
And wound up as yarn in the premise.
Having been literally into spinning for three decades
Now out of it to a laid back upgrades,
To a metaphorical spinning yarn into threads,
Empowering words and thoughts to a fine read.
Relinquishing physically to a state of rest,
The tiring schedules that end up in extensive tests,
Expelling the synergy out of the league,
The exhaustive exertions led to a mental fatigue
The unknowing entry into the world of writing,
Is a deep ,profound passion of a long-standing,
Keeps the physique in a fit selection’
Gives the mind the much-needed relaxation.
The self is at constant work formulating idealism
Thoughts born take the shape of impressionism,
Words weave them into a format of narration,
The presentation commends a tumultuous ovation.
The price of telling tales day in day out is almost nil,
The monetary portion needed for the work out is of no fill,
The prize of spinning words is a winning laurel,
The accumulation of assets in abstract terms is one of plurals.
Meenas Poems 