Meenas PoemsThere be an intrusion
be it small or simple
be it big or complicated
it being an interference
needing not much attention
yet creates a disturbance
that be one of distribution
not one of accumulation
deranging the eternity
fragmenting the infinity
there goes a missile
not be it literally
being seen as a weapon
that throws the eternal
shatters the universal
breaks them into pieces
being the aim intended
succeeds in achieving
a victory for destruction.
The flavour in the pie
the smell that emanates
greatly igniting the wish
wanting to savour it in deviates
tasting it bit by bit
let not in one go
well as it lies there closely knit
devoured by many in a flow
the aroma keeps my nostrils panting
while my taste buds flip-flop
I stand in the queue wanting
seeing the layer in top
being swapped in gently
entering smoothly into the throat
it being a dish of dainty
that would melt in the mouth as a float
Oh! the dish is making me ravenous
as waiting increases the appetite even more.
Daring he went in
where the house caught fire
without any thought he moved in
minding not the flames that raged with ire
caring not his life that is precious although .
He broke open the house
locked by the parents a few minutes from now
keeping the children inside the house
as they being working all time for income low
both venturing out for a short break although
The man opposite seeing the fire
rushed in and broke open the door
which would have turned to be a pyre
had he not broke open the door
seeing the two children sitting although.
Seated where the mother had placed them
scared to see the flames going high
made no noise as they saw death around the
waiting for their mom to come after the buy
the kids frozen to death although.
He flung the door and darted in
pulled the kids and perched them on his shoulders
took a sharp turn and ran hearing no din
at the same time came down the boulders
a miraculous escape it was although.
What an attempt it was I stood amazed .
What a man , my heart cries out to him
What a life for the toddlers who still are dazed
The act made me understand that people like him
still live in this world of deceit and greed. 
although.
Keeping vigil all through life
with a thought of being deceived
the mind keeps on blowing
while the inner self straightens
not with boldness
but with ultimate fear
something would happen
something is amiss
cautions the self
keeping not the mind at rest
but placing it in a position
difficult and distraught
yet life moves on
while the man becomes old
so his longings lose sheen
and soon he would die
with the fear in his mind
that insecurity passes on
with generations coming up
how much there would be an advance
either way say by
technology and science
the apprehension retains its place
as men die with an insecurity always
I be not excited
says he
I be not thrilled
says she
they be not interested
I say
having been through all the days
one be not with the other
the other be always against the one
there be no understanding
just a fight in between
that makes one tired
and the other bored
so they find no excitement
nor any adventure
as they see only con
troversy
leading to nothing
Prolific in everything
might be in writing too
seems pardonable
that which does not come out
sticks back in the mind
making it repressive and aching
once they shoot out
the brain gets eased up
leaving space to enjoy
attached you to another period
you might not be aware when
another bout spurts out
then again a let out
releasing a joy unknown
that of giving birth often
many issues would seem profane
looking predominantly amusing
but if that be the case then restrict
says the mind rather stiffly
the heart would not listen
and up comes the posts one by one
telling me that fertility is great
and fecundity is greater still
with recognition and admiration
let be the acceptance first
that would lead to glory
and a rhapsodical celebration 
Be it charm
be it harm
it is in a swarm
that brings never a warm
not surely a balm
as in the storm
we get no calm
very much out of form
not within the specified norm
having to survive in prescribed proceed
that be of great diligence in the need.
Know a poet
who lived in a land
not known to many
being a small hamlet
with no amenities
say that be modern
living in a big house
traditional and big
built amongst nature’s bounty
with trees and plants around
living all by himself
with a few sincere friends about
ate when he liked
slept when he wished
not governed by time
passing hs days
looking at the beautiful sky
and cherishing every moment of it
that got transcribed in his verse
sustaining the vigour and trance
that he experienced all through his life
Great be his likes
Great is 
his verse
pure and clear
like the sky
he sees all through.
The feel of having lived long
all through the winds fair and foul
having been tossed by tides good and bad
all been seen in the skin and face
that no physical work was there all too
undergone a mental battle in a cross
nothing came to hand in an easy mode
even to pick a needle small
had to bend and strain the most
as to get hold of one’s own
had to struggle to get a tiny piece
which also ebbed in the final throw
that has been all the life
seeming to be long and winding
hope to depart 
soon
not similar to the way I have lived
but to get away in a wink
and that be the end of me.
A competition is there
between power and fame
were power ultimately wins.
A rivalry is there
over wealth and power
finally wealth succeeds.
Being a question all through
which 
is victorious in the end
I want to see through.
As I am ignorant
anyone out there
tell me the triumphant.
Meenas Poems 