Meenas PoemsThe knowledge I have in all
seems very basic in any call
be it in writing or any other
accounting for instance rather
puts me in a fix all through
I break my head in true
burn the midnight oil
my whole day is in spoil
yet I work and work
redo and rework
all too much in the mind
I lose myself in a kind
dazed and diminished I am
A day or two without writing
could be not a relish for me
as I am obsessed with penning
that comes to my mind without fee.
Bogged by the travel and its aftermath
the mind still alert with a curiosity
the body yearns for a rest in the path
have to bow once in a way to its impetuosity.
The tired physic lay down or a day
the bragging mind became impatient
out it has gushed with a flow in a way
lets not my body to relax in a deviant.
The mind always wins over my aching body
never it has been vindicated in a sense
the grumbles and the murmurs of the body
could not diffuse the thoughts that crowd in a dense.
Being a tremendous passion
does not have a reason
never goes by season
that of not a timely fusion
being one of grace
does bode a trace
remains with a daze
never is unfazed
be that one of a chase
lets out a blaze
a pass
ion for writing
Writing for a while
with no special style
compiling them in a file
going through them a little after
kindles an emotion softer
that be the way I read my work
none in a manner to get hooked
a simple write of mine at the most
refreshes my thoughts utmost
a novel way to look back
think over the past in track.
My writing has gone dry
I seem to be in a spell dry
being the joke in a way
I write much in a day
when my heart cries out
emotions do the magic throughout
when I am placid in a sense
my thinking is not dense
my thoughts become dry
I have nothing to buy.
The writing has a value great
be it a fiction or poetry whatever it be
anything put in words on paper
commands a respect and means truth.
Speak one can anything under the sun
talking high of that and this
looking nowhere else around
praising and bemoaning at the same time.
The basis of the eloquence be of strength
lively it goes with the oration
sprinkled with anecdotes real and false
heightened by way of fiery talk.
There be a clear distinction in writing
as it holds a meritorious significance
nothing could be set in black and white
without the fundamentals being right.
Words spoken flies in the air
words written hold waters forever
that be the reason all the while
taking writing as a sober reference.
Reading a lot is a pastime.
Writing a lot is full-time
Listening a lot is part-time.
Watching a lot all time
that be my alibi throughout my lifetime
being an enhancement all the times
giving an exaltation most times
raising my spirit to the sublime every time.
Well, that is how I have been living all the times
The words come out
as we write with ease
jumping out of the heart
processed by the brain
typed by the hand
while the eyes see all in print
the mind reads it with attention
call it proof reading
but before it could finish
certain other topics rise up
he heart deliberates for a moment
as it records them one by one
being a prologue
then a dialogue 
finally an epilogue
all come with such precision
the brains gets halted
the hands ache for a minute
but the heart propounds
more and more with such gusto
that all other faculties sit back
yearning for a break and a stop over
unable to cope up with the poet’s thoughts
but never the heart pulls out from the game
as spontaneity is its by word
there comes with a gush
all the emotions that are recollected
with a delivery great and best.
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Writing a diary
has never been my practice
as such recording the events
chronologically with own views
gets me on the nerves
as I
feel incidents that happen
if vital would get registered firmly in the mind
and if not serious enough
would diffuse and get forgotten
that being my attitude
I tried once and the lat
writing the days happenings
but could not go further
as my hand did not move
knowing fully well
that my mind is not for it
being half way through
it refused to move
with that I closed my diary
and then never thought of writing any more.
Meenas Poems 