Meenas Poems
Dust the table
dust the chair
dust this and that
I command now and then
dust accumulates so fast
a day without dusting
creates a havoc
I go about with my dusting
find no time to dust the mind
which has gone black and sooty
could register none in its socket
a poor dame I am
too much worldly
penchant towards perfection
rather of the exterior
than that of the interior.
There lay a heap
be it trash
where could we find
things all in dust
good or bad might be.
The heap grew in size
as days passed by
going higher and higher
piled upon the lovely earth.
They become contaminated
flies and mosquitoes breed over
stray dogs pull them over
making a mess of the whole.
Those that disintegrate
mulched and decimated
the strewn bags of polypropylene
lay there glaring hideously.
This careless act of throwing
embitters the environment
rendering a habitation
unfit for living.
That may be a point as of now
that concern of the future
looks horrible and disastrous
converting fertility to sterility.
Born as prince
made billions by unjust means.
kicked overnight,
Sold learning
His price was highly exorbitant .
Stripped of position.
Why be greedy?
Facing ignominy over a tumble.
knocked down miserably
A sudden storm blew violently,
As the dust swept forcefully,
Leaving an incredible haze ,
Smudging the eyes in a daze,
Creating a typical dryness
Inducing a painful soreness,
Casting an apprehensive diaspora.
A sudden onslaught of thoughts,
Decimated the mind to naught,
Making it to slump into commotion
Rendering it to a dereliction,
Instigating a miserable sequence,
Involving a deplorable grievance,
Inflicting a destitute digression.
Meenas Poems 