Meenas PoemsNature’s fury
as seen in every
fire, floods, and quakes
all not moderate takes
they show an excessive
be it fire it is incisive
the case of floods it is a deluge
quakes being a devastation huge
what could be the reason?
one says it is a vengeance
nature turns on with a resurgence
another attributes to the end of the world
recaptures the “Noah of Arc” in words
the beliefs are too many to contest
have to address the issue in just
would we do it in earnest?
well, that becomes a difficult test.
Should I or should I not?
puts me to a test
unable to decide fast
look blind and desperate
happens more or less in turn
frequently in returns
keep on deliberating for a while
well, that is not my style
yet I have become so silly
push me out in a rally
would I be able to tally ?
I really know not at all
that is how is the call.
S
ilence is golden is the saying.
It is a contradiction in the upswing
Keeping your mouth shut is not a virtue.
likely you resemble more of a statue.
Arming yourself with words for defence
will not at any cost bring you offence.
Where greed and competition get the best.
muting your voice will put you to test.
When evil and lies surge up to the front.
sitting tight-lipped will bring you brunt.
In this era this adage has been put to test
when all things good or bad demands a protest.
.
Lying down on his stomach ,
Looking around to check,
Pulling his legs to the fore,
He fell down on the floor.
He got hurt to an extent,
He cried to his heart’s content,
Then attempted again,
Alas ! he slipped in the bargain
He threw an angry look around
Stared in anger at the ground,
Shouted something in a loud voice
He stretched himself in a choice.
The baby became restless,
He slowly dragged his legs breathless,
Steadied himself to a right position
He remained waiting for the next decision.
He suddenly took a four-legged step,
Moved his right leg in a forward pep,
The left one followed in a quick,
Architecting an advance like a trick.
The ruse went on for a little time,
It was like a poetic rhyme,
The crawl was with a rhythmic ease,
That brought no ridiculing tease.
It was fun to see him crawl for the rest,
It was for him a highly priced test,
He had taken a move daring,
Is it not a praiseworthy sharing?
It is back to the old place,
Back to the usual pace,
Back in the familiar space,
Back into the monotonous race.
All things have a back side,
All time has a back tide,
All levels have a back ride,
All steps have a back slide.
Going back home is a pleasant return,
Reading back is a historical learn,
Falling back is a miserable spurn,
Back to the original is never a possible turn.
A firm backing lands all in a glamorous zone,
Backing detects in all an infirm tone,
An undue backing for is precarious prone,
Backing also deletes in all an individualistic own.
Well, getting back to the prescribed text,
It is a back up of all the zest,
Restoring the faculties to the best,
Reaffirming the convictions to a test.
It is back to the regular day,
It is back to the formal say,
It is at times a strenuous slay,
But it is 
always an indefatigable way.
Wrapped up with many tries,
Concealing each other in a dice,
Forging ruthless flies.
Truth stands alone,
In a flattery zone,
Where it is thrown
By the windy blown.
Yet it stands up above,
The restless grove,
Of tantalizing move,
And disquieting rove
It hovers over a platitude,
Of infirm fortitude,
Going through a coveted ingratitude,
As it accost a rebellious latitude.
It resists the tempting allure,
By holding a stately demur,
As it shunning the facile glamour,
With a shielding armour.
Integrity clones with honesty
By slicing the fiction out of the priority,
As it accepts the directions of morality,
By discarding the dubious activity.
Integrity undergoes much hardship,
As it gets battered by the whip,
Still it bears the tedious strip,
With a poised graceful flip
Down ,down goes the lies.
Meenas Poems 