BEAUTY SYLVAN ( a jejune poem)

Taking advantage of innocence,
Or failure at guarding one’s privacy,
As beauty sylvan ‘ poses’ with prefixed ‘ex’
Catering to quest primitive,
It’s no worthy of censure,
Rather an excuse,
Take it lightly.
Lack of sensitivity on the one hand,
Curiosity on the other.
But don’t bother.
It might happen with any one
At meek moments alone;
A human error. Over?

When gender’s common, you can alert.
In case otherwise you can avert,
But you fail to do so.
Then enjoy yourself,
Or forget, forgive and forego the scene,
As if nothing was seen, nothing has been;
And that’s divine.
But what in effect occurs
The sporadic recurrence.

Lo! Wordsworth carried to his grave
The solitary reaper’s song,
And the daffodils’ dance.

TO THE OZ ( own zone) MASTERS

Lord and master
The stray dogs pose
In their own zones.
Hark them bark
At elephants
In streets and adjoining lanes
It’s easy to dodge, in case
The tusker sets a pace.
We treat our guests with love’
Unlike you who manhandle.
Desist from such inhuman acts,
Or ‘racist’ you are labeled.
The smallest may be your continent,
Don’t demo a heart still smaller,
Be patriots, not parochial
Globalization’s the order.………………………………………..

MY TYPE VERSE

MY TYPE VERSE

I don’t go for rhyme and rhythm
When I pen a verse;
Nor know how they creep in,
A blessing or a curse.
But I enjoy myself,
When words sing with sense,
And feel I’m not a fool,
Have a message for my friends.
…………………………………

IN SWEET REMEMBRANCE

IN SWEET REMEMBRANCE

Over thirty four years of sweet union,

Sacrifice overcame greed,

Satiety abnegated need.

Distance and departure

With their blunt daggers

Can hardly hurt us to bleed;

But for the pen to lead.

My Love!

May our progeny learn,

Tempests are but temporal

No credence can they earn.

And it’s through love and peace,

Life’s led against all strife,

No grudge, no malice.

THE SCARECROW

THE SCARECROW

I miss you more than I love you,

My love,

And wish you were here,

To teach me commonsense,

And preach the principles

You fail to practice yourself,

But persuade poor Me to do,

Such as “Much sugar mustn’t take.”

“Early morning have to wake,”

And “walk at least five miles a day”.

“Smoking’s injurious,” by the way.

“Tea taken often spoils appetite.”

But about coffee the lips kept tight.

Things I detest you’ll have taught.

What are ought and what ought not.

How sweet! Orally we’ll have fought.

Losing time and gaining naught.

The slave’s now on his freedom days.

Discard the neighbor lady’s says.

On me, probably, she keeps an eye.

Know not appointed or a voluntary spy.

But why?

If not a gallon, at least an ounce,

Not a pound, then at least a pence,

Life makes no sense sans romance.

(Composed on 25^th, June, 2010,

Concept dates back to summer, 1980)

Crazymayanindias

Had I been laden
With petro-profits and nacro-funds
I wish I invested on this mission. Iconoclasts!
Bribed you to blast
Those proud pedestals,
Poking their heads high
From deep under the ground

Wherever found,
With the maxim
'Ride on pride'
And preach such values
As statues to comemo
The virtuous dead,
And public pelf
Never use for yourself.

Time & Me

Way back when I was Young
Often I looked back to find
Time follow me far behind
And I jeered at poor Time
"A dollar I am and you are a dime" The other day it occured to me,
Its harzardous to run a race,
With Time the tireless one
Faster may be your pace.
I slowed down till Time came
And joined me in the game.
We marched along a while,
Counted it was a forty mile.
Another day I found
Times not love-bound
It pulled my hand to spur
Falling down I was left a far
It never stopped to see me stand,
Hurried waving an unseen hand
I lag behind since that day
The gap widens and hairs are grey!