Meenas PoemsHe 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.
Wading through the waters
dragging out whatever possible
his breath got shorter
wondering whether it would be tangible
he made his way to the shore greater
while the water pulled him down
the weight he carried immersed him further
he struggled hard to get through alone
marooned in the vicious waters for long
his hands and legs got numbed
he had to make it fast or else in a song
the sweeping waters would get him embalmed.
An incident that brings into the mind
the struggles in real life of a kind
similar to this in find
of crossing the life cycle with strain
have to do no matter it be a drain.
The cyclic monsoon hit the town
flooding it largely
lampooning the town extensively.
The rains poured day and night
no person was in sight
The roads were with water
everything else was shorter
with no activity either
and habitation neither
it looked deserted wholly
not looking wasted entirely
but fully logged and surrounded
marshy mess
and clogged
Generally water is a life-giver
now it has become life taker
halting the movements absolutely
while heralding an alert necessarily.
Down there in the garden
saw a beautiful fountain
spurting out into ebullience
reflecting grand in the sunlight
with colours in variance
initially with red and green
then with blue and yellow
all in an exuberant glow
with intermittent flash of lights
that added charm to the spray.
Children went round the fountain
clapping the hands in joy
getting wet in the shower
brushing aside the water in gay
trying to get into the spray
pulled back by their parents in fear
enjoying at the luxurious splendour
dancing to the colouring in glee
had a time most memorable and lovely
which would stay in their memory for long.
Calling it quits
he went out in fits
when rage becomes a wit
while disappointment brings in dim wit.
He walked away enraged
losing his courage
as holding in the range
was abandoned in ways strange.
Knowing how to provoke
they force him to revoke
gaining a victory wholesome
making him a dummy in the sum.
Their plan being worked out
they imperiously go about
enjoying every moment in a chuckle
while he resigns in a buckle.
A strange uneasiness has set in
Quite unpleasant and insecure feel
creeps in with an irrational deal.
Likening to go for a heal
made way across in a steal
with an intention to equip
the mind and physique
rejuvenating them to a sleek
steady and brisk ethic
having tried
such caressing
many a time had been refreshing
but only for a time not insisting
a lifelong refurbishing.
Anyhow, the temporary delivery
had added to the inventory
that had been tabulated resource fully
and codified in the mind instantly
modifying the body instantaneously.
The way you speak
the way you behave
makes you stand out.
Peeking into other’s affairs
Propping unnecessarily
makes you unwanted.
Passing remarks
scathing and irrelevant
makes you disliked
Talking rudely
Telling lies
makes
you detested.
These are few in the code
that brings out in mode
the ways to live.
There is a way to write
with dignity and pride
not just throwing words
forming a sentence
conveying no meaning
condemned as insensible.
writers owe responsibility
that of putting in black and white
terms signifying sense secure.
Speakers get a better chance
as they voice not write
therein lies the variance
One could talk anything
then say I never said so
or else I never meant so.
as words are sounds
that flow through the wind
could be heard no more
unlike writing which stays firm
on the paper where it is written
With an argument strong
papers could be torn also
there confronts a distraction
that all could be destroyed
men, matter, nature and words
finding nothing at the end. 
Meenas Poems 