Saturday, January 31, 2009

The orange peelings

It is in the sombre winter’s dark morning,
darkened by the croaking of frogs,
day begins with the ordeal fo r me ,
I wash my bowl of oranges,
those plump peelings give a cry of wail,
yesterday we covered those plump pith,
You can’t gain entry without our permission,
Today we are demoted in the bin,
Scary flies are swamping around us ,
free permission, what an irony!

Friday, January 30, 2009

Paper plane

Paper plane.
From earth’s crevice, it takes off
to unimaginable rapturous dizzy heights,
propelled by intuitive imagination,
piercing through puffy clouds,
dragging along the zigzag manner ,
I too fly along with it, explore unknown zones
Little knowing the ground realities,
I was running along somewhere
in the middle path, lost into space perhaps,
it got crushed for it is only a paper plane,
me too, the whereabouts not known,
it is only a paper plane.

Monday, January 26, 2009

I let it go
I let go the passion of cankerous evil of jealousy
for once it starts corroding me, I find the
uprooting devastation , slowly consuming me
without a checkpoint,
I let go the fish caught in my cupped palm
for its survvival , for GOD has created life
for it in the water,
I let go my head ache , for
my work suffers with the
bug of intruding pain,
But I let not go patience

for once it goes, life drains.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

A thing of Beauty.

A thing of Beauty , which we think is lost,
is never missing for ever,
if not yesterday, today gains new release
of renewed life with colour.
with redoubled grandeur.

The cold, cloudy wintry morn,
exposed to the sky’s chuckling scorn,
the weird like magnolia tree, in dark stems,
as I sit and watch the barren twigs,
impoverished , brown, not a single leaf,

To day, to my surprise, just sprouting buds ,
as if hungered and thirsty , intertwine,
yet could my eyes glance blossomed
rosy magnolias, in thick clusters,
beatitude of Bliss and beauty in flowing colours.


Monday, January 19, 2009

Motherhood

Motherhood

Divine Mother’s
evanescent smile
bespeaks of many things,
motherhood, universal
motherhood, motherhood,
Mother is mother,
whether abominably poor,
Or altruistically affluent,
she is the common
denominator, unique,
for she undoubtedly
fostered you with the
first drop of that
precious mother’s milk
and selfless ,unpolluted care,
she protected you
within the cosy walls,
her womb, though
you kicked her time
and again,mother,cares
for ever, earth like
patient, penetrating,
mother is mother,
let us not smother

our conscience
mother is mother.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

I am overwhelmed to be

I am overwhelmed to be....
Oh! God , I am overwhelmed to be,
Today, in the vast, united states of
America, to be in the temple of
Sana tana dharma, wearing the
Diadem of gratitude, to the Maker,
For He who makes the Nation ,
Nature, also nurtures the Myth
Of Your survival, chance of your
Being here, le t again thanksgiving,
form the core of the beginning
and end of Each day,
for all your benign Grace,
for each hour, each breadth take up
an embalmed vow to sing
gratitude to your Maker,
for He who makes and mars,
let the privilege reach the
forbidden and denied,
let me not have the
Contracted mind to reap
it for myself, again and again
it is a wonder and mystery,
God’s boon has myriad
inexplicable connotations,
you may retire from your profession,
but no retirement for gratitude and Meditation.

Chattering monkey

Chattering monkey
Chattering monkey in the morn
Stirs me with a wakeup call,
go to your laptop with a tap,
set a tune on this keyboard,
with a song on a springboard,
cheating, cheating, cheating,
beating, beating, brow beating,
chattering monkey in the morn,
springs from within with a sound of horn,
wake up, wake up, wake up,
chattering monkey recedes ,
to have a new make up.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

His passion for Undoing

Stretching in His orb,
extending , all pervading , His
impartial looks and rod,
it is His unique passion for
the chiselled creation, to
watch and hook and steady
those who run helter sklter
and welter in the quagmire of
lust and carnivorous greed,

It is His passion undoing
and doing man’s impassioned
perilous deeds , purblind thinking,
in His passion, there is explosion,
Encapsulation. endless enumeration.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

On the semi naked person

On the semi naked person,
like a burst combustion engine
She fell upon his white, marble like
body, his face only a just withered flower,
kisses are like Heaven’s showers,
a thin cotton cloth covering his loins,
tattered, life’s full fulcrum
i s gone, time spent in the army,
transparency is seen in his
uncovered story of his life.
she wails and weeps on the
semi naked person.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

All zeroed to nothing

I lift both my hands,
to worship the sun god,
rising with a smiling nod,

lines criss cross,
my folded hands,

age has its slow and steady
impact on the subdued body,
undaunted will prevails
yet, the bickering monkey,
the braying donkey,
the caterwauling felony
eating my flesh,
as some feel, if at all,
all zeroed before the
dwelling deity,

The Avatar smiles.

Change is inevitable

Change is inevitable
Miles and miles away,
from my home country,
here, in California, I see
the popped up rosy buds
amidst barren twigs, the wintry

winds blowing, those magnolia

limpid , crave for the warmth of sun,
with the changing seasonal shifts,
how much of change , change brings
in the distance of Time and
Wuthering, weathering days,

God alone does not change,

I live the present
With a fervent hope to
See the tactile drama
Of ordained life in the future,
While viewing the past,

How much of challenge

One sees in the negatively
Pointed, corroding ego,
Inner vision presages
like a sooth sayer,
change for the better is
inevitable, imminent.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

A reply from Prometheus

A reply from Prometheus
I asked in an imaginary poetic mood,
A question to Prometheus
why can’t you quench the fire
which you thoughtlessly stole?
Hell fire is raging in Heaven,
Earth is quaking, shaking,
Out came a prosaic reply,
I can’t quench, there is NO WATER,
too much of sinning around me.

Thursday, January 01, 2009

A sense of belonging

Clear us of our uncouth mess,
with the craving look of utensils,
in the dishwasher, your soft hands
deal dexterous, wash and wipe,

the spooky sponge counteract the soot,
the accumulated foam slowly
down the sink, there is a sense
of belonging, longing,

with the tactile tap on the
keyboard, with the pop ups
blocking, you avidly blog,
there is a sense of belonging,

warp and weft of the sari,
shiny on your delicate skin,
the weaver and the design,
there is a sense of belonging,

the taste of Indian culinary masala,
the subconscious recording of poem
which is a tabula rasa,
there is a sense of belonging.