Meenas PoemsHolding it with a grip
he went on with a skip
giving nothing in a tip
leaving no ends in a slip
drinking the whole in a sip
then biting his lip
he pinned the clip
carefully into every dip
by chosing a snip
peeling off with a rip
fastening with a zip
assisting with a drip
plucking the nip
breaking it into a chip
remarking with a quip
he goes on in an endless trip.
One Malaysia they say with pride
is it worth the ride?
Malays,in their country
get through with all concessions.
Chinese with their business brain
go through with less strain
Indians with their hard work
reach not near the top .
The three races still go on
have their own identity to an extent
living in areas best suited for them
mixing up with the youth picking relations
converting to the religion out of necessity
as to keep up the pace of harmony
but still there remains a divide
very discreet and very phenomenal
that could be keenly felt
and faintly experienced
Yet, Malaysia pulls on
not on policies great
but on the unity of the races
which had lived for centuries together.
Sitting tight on her chair
gazing at the moon in the sky
mumbling something to herself
she sat there for hours together
not going to her bed
with the night getting darker
and midnight fast approaching
she sat tight in her chair
unmoved by things around her
not knowing it is night or day
but staring at the moon in its shine.
How long she sat there one knows not?
For in the morn she continued so
passing on to the afternoon and then to dusk.
It is hapless to see her thus
like a stone totally set and totally fret.
Sadness can make living beings into stone
hard and impenetrable,sullen and serious.
The estrangement has caused a hollow
being unable to swallow
her thoughts go
far below
she runs to the gallows
though it looks shallow
she knows no other follow
she falls dead on the fallow
a pathetic tale all the more.
Picking up quarrel often
being common in children
wanes as days go by
while the children grow into adults
the tendency subsides with a virtuosity
bringing in a composure of equanimity
This being the case in general
there be few exceptions as might be
where even septuagenarian quarrels
at the slightest annoyance and delivery
mostly when there is nothing in the basic
but raising the voice and engaging in wordy fights
ill-fitting his age and experience greatly
Well, can not expect anything more from him
as he gets provoked and once went to an extreme
by setting fire to an innocent girl who died
burnt by the flames ignited by this man
it is both the real fire and the wordy smoke
His wrath and foul mouth have framed him
as an evil being detested by all around him.
Getting to know people
Getting to know their intentions
Makes one at times yell with delight
sometimes depresses the outlook and insight.
The niceties of man get known in his words.
Certain periods these words also go wayward.
The words powdered and made up with sugary taste
reflect a lovely presentation when judged in haste.
The sayings that is true could be bitter most times
they do get less sour when told with rhymes.
The way to talk is but different with one another.
One might require a strong wordings in tenor
while other gets curled up being sensitive
repelling anything that goes beyond the prerogative.
The poise of placing words in a sentence needs great tact
with the proper attuning there arises a great impact
creating an enthusiasm initially and a will to listen
not to everything said in a haphazard manner as to chasten
but pronounced with important reference and indicative choice.
Seeing what is there
commenting about it
without any extra details
describing as it is
making nothing more of it
tells you are prosaic.
Seeing what is there
adding imagination to it
coloring it beautifully
allowing it to take wings
making the most of it
emphasizes you as a poet.
Seeing what is there
enjoying it for itself
loving it more and more
depicting it with gesticulations
making it an experience
finds you as a dramatist.
The three perceptions
basically tell the same
but one with a reality
another an exaggeration 
and the last one an entertainment
all that pointing to the very same
He grumbles
all the time
with a long face and pouting lips
finding fault for no reason or rhyme
he murmurs and scolds without any tips
that being his behaviour all times
he is shunned by most in all slips.
Nurturing a vengeance over everyone
irrespective of their stature or standing
he spits venom barring none
worsening the relationship to a breaking
always cursing having no fun
a ruthless wicked man in the run.
With the trees and plants around
I have never felt alone
To me televisions hold no interest
it is the nature that lies around
with all its bounties and beauty
that make my days pass without monotony.
Like to stay at home in their company
with books and periodicals in hand
all through weeks and months.
The rustling of wind enamours me.
The sound of thunder arouses me.
The lightning captivates me.
The rains bring an exuberance and joy
while the falling of leaves wake me up
specially that of the fronds of coconut trees.
the dangling of roses in the garden
solicit me to them every other hour
The chirping of birds take me to a world
where cawing and tweeting present a symphony.
With the books as companions the day passes
going by 
intermittent phone calls and cups of tea
with lunch and dinner simple and healthy
keep me engaged all through
and the time passes without venturing out
The heaven is beautiful they say
with flowers and greenery all over
While the good people find place there
revelling in splendour and comfort
all the more for the things they had done
and for the person the way they lived
kind and good, generous and magnanimous
touching nothing that is not theirs
attacking none and for that reason
quarreling with none nor taking
cudgels at any one unfriendly
nurturing not vengeance
brooding not evil
thinking always good
and living by principles
which had brought them to heaven
after their death
So, in the heaven they enjoy
peace and goodwill
all being a reward for they being
honest and sincere, nice and gentle.
Meenas Poems 