Guaradian's take on Squawks and speech

   Guardian’s take on  Squawks   and  speech     

I am   by myself  in  my  study room,

Researching   bird  calls  and  speech  syndrome,

But  often   hear calling  bird’s  sweet  localisation

Could be  yesterday’s  Peter or  Bob.

The  clock  is  sweeping  through,

Time  is running  out,

For  most  like  me,

 TIME is not enough,

Yet, enough with Time’s collocations.

Battling  with  the  troubles

Beyond  troubleshooting.

I  live  with a  staunch  belief

That  my Mentor  takes in

Everything on my behalf.

 Comatose  with  sufferings of

Worldly  nuggets   beyond  edges,

I hear  a  parrot,singing,

It is  the repetitive parrot cry

Of   war! War! Sirens  and   humiliating

thunders  across silent miles
then joins the endless cycle of decay and growth.

Decay of  bodies  and   wailing  cry,

It is  unconquerable  cry.

Time  yet ,goes on.

Guardian's rocking horse

Guardian’s  rocking horse.

That was the  sturdy, painted Rocking Horse,

The  centre of attraction for the  number of

Children  and grandchildren  cared  by grandfather

and  grandmother, each tending and placing their

grand   kids on the colour ful  horse,

rocking  from  sideways, hiding their age,

 playing along with them. Three  generations

preserved  the  emblem of   joy  and  play  and

recreation  and  retrace their lineage . One

of the forefathers,  chipped  the old, mango tree

thick  with  the  dexterous axe   of  the ebullient

carpenter   singing  a song  always chipping

and polishing.  Then yellow  and red painting 

went into  the  structure ready to fly for  the                             

sake of children.

The  Dream Horse  always

entered  into  their  life of  living,  lore,  a rocking  horse

rocking  the  entire  clan. I have heard of  war horses,

Cavalry, horses  trained into  tents  of my  ancestral village,

The  grass  and   green    smell of  those   tents   

Still  pierce  my  nostrils  into furthering 

into  the  inmate’s  shape  and purpose, the saddle to

My childish curiosity drove me to  study

The horse.The Rocking  horse 

and the habituated horse In tent in war field.            

They are silent ruminators. Fast fliers. Rock! Rock!

                         

                              

The River Of Life

                                            The  River  Of  Life.

                                      It is   the steady River  of Life,

                                      Flows   across    Eternity,

                                      Cutting   huge  space   and  celerity;

                                     While  encompassing, the  whole,

                                      Laconic  of  superiority.

                                      Never  wry or  dry,

                                     Edging  on  the  logo

                                     Of   Universality

                                    

                                      River and  Creator  sharing  a

                                     Similar   vintage like   His  Move

                                     On  His  own  scheme of  Karma

                                     and   Consciousness.  Ever   going 

                                     on  a  path of  its own  Destiny,

                                     impeccable, irretrievable .

                                    River  carrying  on

                                    its  own zig zag   portals.

                                    Be it  a scorpion, or crab,

                                    A paper  boat  or  blown lotus,

                                    Bearing  much, human  and thrown,

                                    To  Gaya  or  Kasi ( Banaras)

                                    A dip holy in its  Merge.

                                   River  of  life  goes  on and on.

                              

                                                                                                          

Go slow,lower the speed.

Go   slow, lower   the speed.

Go   slow, lower  the speed,

The   droplets  come  down

On the windscreen,glossy                      

It  is  also  speeding  along

With  its  master,

The   mists   and  wind

Endanger  your  path,

Dictates  always  tell

Go slow, lower  your  path.

Yonder  there  is  a speed breaker,

Speeding  vehicles, drunken passersby

Come  your  way, cattle  either   tackle

Or   slumber  ruminating  on  their own.

Children with  cartload of  books

Cross  and  walk , run scared  and

 Dismayed  by  the  spooky  horns

Dictates  always   tell us

Go slow, lower the  speed.

There  is a river like,

Glossy, fascinating ,

Wind   salutary                       

Blowing  towards    you,

You  are  drawn towards the  sand,

 It  is  a mirage, mirage,

How   taxing, how convincing,

How  evincing, elusive,

Go slow, lower  the speed.

Guardian’s A Birth mother’s catechism Take on “who do you think you are?"

Guardian’s  A  Birth mother’s catechism   Take on “who do you think  you are?”                                                                                                                                             

     A  General  application

 Who do you think you are?

A  child  cosy in  hugged  warmth             

Kicking the  walls of  embryo .

Who do  you  think you are?

A new  arrival  soon  heard 

Cacophony  around  me .

Who do you think you are?

Fearing  the  warring  world.

Who do you think you are?

  One  Shuddering to know

 The   numismatic  value

 Of  the world ,  only value.

Who do you think you are?

A small  speck, a  pebble,

In this inordinately  cruel world.

Who do you think you are?

Withal  a Gifted, to know

The  boon of  His   Mercy.

             

Something to wake up the Muse

Something to wake up the Muse.

My energy drink, my   noble  spirit,

Please   don’t  get   yourself,

 locked  up  in a  corner,

for,  your  the little  slumber  is 

my   sign  of  retrograde,

to  move   into progression,

wake up   and  give me  a 

clarion  call, tap me,gentle

on  my   key board, you  are

my  ultimate  Muse.