Meenas PoemsThe land being low
had a steady flow
where water logge
while men clogged
water stagnating in the pool
men crowding like fools
becoming the breeding place of mosquitoes
where diseases spread in rows
turning the lowland unfit and filthy
making it a place totally unhealthy.
Heading towards the structure
standing massive and great
looking like a ruinous rupture
with stones falling at a rate
causing a damage and fracture
as the building has 
started to oscillate
losing its shine and texture
making the dwellers nearby to a fluctuate
letting out a dilemma and a torture
as how to continue living there in a rate
that would prove extremely dangerous
getting ahead to warn them straight.
The house needs a cleaning every day
with a tidying and dusting
where the furnitures look battered in a day
with the layers of dust white and black sitting
overlapping their exquisite finish
while cobwebs flying around
get stuck to the corners of the garnish
the hanging garden of Babylon being found
dustbins overflowing with waste
dish washers full with dishes
laundry gets growing as days go by in haste
garden turns haggard and weird with fissures
requiring a trimming and watering 
periodically
with the mowing of lawn underway
going by the growth as it may
sweeping of the entire pathway
demanding great time and energy
that wanes of with years and age
as the occupant loses her synergy
so does the house rocked in a range
dwindles in its value and significance greatly.
The bursting of crackers all day
seem to be a noisy affair in a way
deafening the ears all through
frightening the babies greatly in a rue
disturbing the elderly to a fright
creating an unpleasantness straight
with fumes and smoke rising up high
polluting the environment to a die
what do they actually do?
just a blare and a blast
sometimes with sparkles to last
other times a rise and fall
with a drastic haul
pulling the sky down beneath
raising the earth up in a sheath
with incidents of fatal injury
burns to a great degree
Well ! there be an atom of thrill
keeping us in a happy fill
but nothing beyond that
a wasteful expenditure in short.
The mind is blowing
up and down
breaking the typical flowing
where the eyes frown
The heart is oscillating
to and fro
relatively very disturbing
while the head bows.
The body is aching
left and right
absolutely very nagging
as the legs remain straight.
The whole system is undergoing
a change and feel
exactly an antithesis in the moving
eliminating the steal
Raising funds for a cause
seems to be an easy task
it raises numerous doubts
being deliberated for honesty
being thought over for sincerity
as many recently go by a proposition
where faith and trust deviate
where greed and fake unite
putting to test the patronage
complicating the ideals to a demurrage
as many funds have gone out of context
spent not for the purpose in text
a shadowy event plays at the back
throwing the intention on the rock.
Being early in the morning
got up with a yawning
listening to the birds cackling
hearing the hooting
quickly rising
rushed to the opening
as someone stood calling
very early in the morning.
Who is it ? said I
paying a significant apply
steadying myself in a shy 
looking through the door’s eyes
saw a big fat guy
appearing tall and high
breathing heavily with a sigh
as if he is going to die.
The passers-by look at him
he being called kim
appearing very trim
apparently very slim
it being a light dim
the ambience was grim
yet his cheer was to the brim
making us look twice at him.
Angry she is very angry all through.
knowing not what to do
knowing not why she was so
sat worried all through the day
At dusk went to her slowly
still wild with burning rage
she turned away hastily
not wanting to see me at any stage.
Walked slowly back with eyes down
knowing not how to appease her
thought of what wrong I had done
breaking my head as ow to satisfy her.
Looking at me with a raised head
she said in a voice soft and firm
you have gifted a book to my brother instead
not thinking of me in any term.
Unable to explain my act to the little girl fair
as she is a just a four-year old child
placed her in my lap talked to her with care
saying that her book is on the way my grand
child.
It was a tapping
know not from where
It was a rapping
know not from where
it was a slapping
know not who did it.
It was a strapping
know not how they did it.
it was a beating
know not how severe it was.
It was a thrashing
know not to what degree.
It was defeating
know not how much it would be.
It was a struggle
known to all fully well.
Meenas Poems 