Category Archives: Beliefs

Nostalgia

a poem by

At times, my memory foot
Just slip down into deep pool of nostalgia.
I become drenched and chilled in it
By sweet and sad moments of my life past
And present
Remebering of the people I love, still loving
Remembering of the place I visited, still visiting
Of every object I liked, still liking
But then appears before me suddenly
The hard rock of reality.

Dark Night

a poem by

This servitude eternal,
Bound by duty and faith,
I find hope fading,
Devoured by these,
Ordeals.
These trials,
Harbingers of all
That is ordained,
Also conduct terrible fate.
Dread comes,
For this bounding main
Of darkness,
Lies absolute.
Imploring for diligence,
We are engulfed.

I want to be a tree on the mountain top

a poem by

I want to be a tree on the mountain top,
standing tall on the stony ground.
I’ll suck water from the breast of earth,
as we suck milk from our mothers’ breast.
My roots’ll go deep down into her,
the bond, hence, will remain unchanged.
I’ll rise and rise high in the sky.
The clouds will pass by so close
brushing against my eager skin.
I’ll spread myself in the thin air,
get drenched at night in the tears
of the sky, feel warmth of his love
throughout the whole day.
I’ll be the home to the birds.
My joy’ll blossom as flowers
and peace will be my fruits.
My tears, like falling leaves, will
roll down with dew drops,
hand in hand.

I am sick

a poem by

I am sick
Not with a proper disease
But the life, I live

Am obsessed with my senses
Rebelling with my stances
Doing nothing but roaming
In search of something within

Can’t go out of it
I am sick

Demons

a poem by

Some alcoholic demons from hell
Have come to the earth
In the disguise of men.
These demons roam about
Freely in the streets
Like beasts out of the den.

Their targets are majorly women
The innocent women
Who complete our lives.
The mothers, daughters, sisters,
And the homely wives.

But alas! The demons see them
As only flesh and blood
Always hungry to tear them apart
To spoil their sweet dreams or aims
Their legal wish to lead a normal life.

The demon is always out there
Watching secretly, hiding somewhere
Beware! One mistake and they’ll get you.
The demons show no mercy
They devour you up in tiny bits
One by one leaving no clue.

The demons then pushes you
Throw you like a garbage
Somewhere bloody and red.
The innocent happy girl
You now face slow and painful death
A sight even the animals are afraid.

The demons go back
Their appetites full
To plan for the next prey.
The passerby looks at the girl
Speaks nothing, does nothing
Just walks away.

Mother

a poem by

She was lying on a bed
Silent and motionless,
Not even looking at me.
Doctor declared her lifeless.
But she was still there at the ventilator,
Then how he told, she was no more.
Puzzled, how could it be doctor?
Who was then lying inside there?
Were they two instead of one?
Then who was there and who had gone?
Who was free and who was abandoned?
I hug the body which was left behind,
As she was only my beloved mother
Whom I would miss hence.

Why I Write

a poem by

People often ask me,
For the reasons why I write,
It’s a question that stumps me,
And I ponder with all my might.

I guess I write because,
I see the beauty when it’s stormy,
I stop to smell the roses one petal at a time,
I’m just kidding, that’s just too corny.

I write because I’m terrified,
Of people and their ways,
Political correctness is the tune,
To which everyone in society sways.

I write because it’s easy,
To vent the anger of the mind,
It’s the only thing pure in this filthy world,
That can hope to us all bind.

I write because I’m no great orater,
With a aura of passion and power,
To wake the people of the earth,
From this reality so bitter and sour.

I write because I find,
The stereotypes that must be broken,
To free us from the dark ages,
And from this life of sin.

I write because I’m tired,
Of the conservatives of this land,
That walk in a by gone era,
And bury our nation in the sand.

I write because I’m angry,
That it is religion that tears us,
Which god would condone the killing of an innocent,
Or the flaming of a bus?

I write because I see,
A nation that is not free,
It is bound by its leaders,
Who awaken the banshee.

I write because I wish to share,
My vision in prose and rhyme,
Go ahead, arrest me if you will,
In my heart I know it’s no crime.

A Soft Pillow

a poem by

My heart doth now become leaden
With aches and pains gets laden
When hearing news that are sordid
Evil deeds of creatures too horrid

Demons and monsters in stories read
Come alive to wreck lives unhindered
With their fangs and claws so hideous
And wicked to harm in ways insidious

When heavy sadness fills my heart
To some pleasant memories I resort
The happy carefree childhood days
Of fun, frolic and friendly plays

Beaches, flowers, hills and dales
Any scenery that my heart regales
Little favors that life brings
And a lot of my favorite things

Those little acts of my kindness
Deeds of tact and thoughtfulness
That brightened a worried face
And emboldened to run the race

Unflinching always in my duty
Guarding the kin with loyalty
To gather knowledge my thirst
And to share it was I first

Let the ugly face of life recede
Let me only the bright spots heed
Unknown are the ways of Providence
In its kindness have I confidence

A branch is not destined to carry
Fruit bunches that are too heavy
No grudges and ill-will I keep
A soft pillow I have to sleep

The Bias

a poem by

The bias you see inherent in Nature,
Simply put these are but Nature’s laws
God’s work is nature: Be sure,
You may try but cannot find flaws!

Evil in His creation you may seldom find:
This just cannot negate His existence.
For, goodness outstrips evil. Bear in mind:
Nature ordains health to prevail over pestilence!

Nature ordains that the things that are best
Are equally set with those that are worst,
With the average to be in the majority
Normal Distribution is her Law: Since antiquity!

This, then, can be, at least, safely assumed:
God’s work-nature-acts as a fine balance
Curse not Nature: Like some ignoramus subsumed,
Only misery and evil in His account, for instance

For an athlete- expect someone to lame,
For a genius- suffer a moron: Don’t blame!
For sure, you may live in pretence,
But, for God’s sake, use your common sense!!

Rains

a poem by

The rains this afternoon
brought poetry into a reminiscing mind
the rains scattered seeds, threw up
the mind, extolled the skies in this festive
season, people with upraised arms paid
obeisance to the Goddess
who, it is whispered actually
brought these showers from rainbow tilted skies
little children playing, laughing crying,
I want this, that; as the Goddess looked
on serenely, the rains paused, askance
then tearfully said goodbye to the Goddess and her
ensemble.

Somewhere people are still praying for the rains
some to abate, some to give them fresh lease of life.
Give them O Goddess, give them!

Life’s Battles

a poem by

Snatched into life I should assure you
Trials and tribulations yes I have been through
But know that in life I have learned
That a heart filled with hate cannot grow cannot yearn

At times the days seem longer
But with each day passing I grow stronger
I hope that out of this mere life
I have been a good sister, aunt, mother and wife

And when my final excursion began
I will have fought a good battle
Sat straight in the saddle
And took this old world to
The End

Music Lover

a poem by

If love were music, I would dance on every note
With the rhythm of the beat I would float
The words would be my lily pad to keep my love trust high
And the way I handled the music would be the way I feel inside
Your voice would be what kept me as a friend
And the way you looked into my eyes
Would be how you felt for me in
The End

It is not easy to loose but…

a poem by

Am now half asleep and half awake,
Trying to understand what is at stake.

Is it always necessary to give in so much,
And also put a face with no grudge.

Is it always right to follow the rules,
And this to me is like being a mule.

Should we not stand for I or ourselves,
Rather than for living for him or himself.

Now I have decided that I’ll not give in,
I’ll break the system or let them break in.

What now I seek is strength from inside,
The source of which with me will take many for ride.

A broken watch…

a poem by

Is it broken when and how?
These are not from my lips
They are from the depth of my pained heart
Cause that broken watch has such value
Many good things happened in it’s life to me
It gave distinction in my studies and
It gave a lover and wife to my life.
It might be dim and shabby to see but
It worked for me for many decades
My last son and first daughter loved to wear
Such watch has broken and went for it’s rest
I stunned and broken for it’s death and
Placed as antique in the iron safe