Don't Feign Care, When You Don't!

Some songs unsung, unheard

Do stay on as if they are eternal

If there is something remaining

Gone are the bonds …

                 Of even that last thread

Sand castles, go hide and seek,

Catch me are not just games from childhood

You are preparing to see the dreams

Over and over again being created and destroyed,

just as the world is recreated so many times

You pretend to pour love

Measuring moments spend

In pennies and quarters, dimes and dollars

You measure families, as though commodities

You have reached a wrong door

Pray you find your path back.

Back where we all have arrived,

From that eternal home

Where Mother Goddess raises

All the folks with love not poison

With care not jealousy or horror

Seek Her, the Mother, of all

The most generous kind and loving

Ever nurturing mother earth,

care her so she can protect you, not pretend!

What Remains To Tell

Everything else passes through time

Art alone remains to tell that story

Nothing remains except dust or slime

Everything else passes through time

Justice served for a crime in its prime

Bringing them down from fame and glory

Everything else passes through time

Art alone remains to tell that story

Time To Wake Up, Krishna!

Jai SriKrishna, wake up, its morning!

Look! Its time, the birds are cooing

Why, even the bees are up, and buzzing

Jai SriKrishna, wake up, its morning!

Humanity is lost in darkness pervading

Larks are flying, the cows are mooing 

Jai SriKrishna, wake up, its morning!

Look! Its time, the birds are cooing

  

trial of my first triolet on tell

In hope that you hear, I tell you dear

Life is but a bubble of joy if you let 

It brightens as you do well for all, far or near

In hope that you hear, I tell you dear

You can be loving and caring, do not fear

Be joyful as you care with love; grim nor fret!

In hope that you hear, I tell you dear

Life is but a bubble of joy if you let 

a Can Do Attitude

A broken vessel

Looks like a well

Bottomless, rimless pit

A broken shell

Has water full

Of residue from

Three rivers

One is dried up

Second needs to be born

Finding it’s way

Down the winding mountain

Third river being

Cluttered and unclean

Boil that water

Purify the filth

Redo the base,

Recover the edges

Dry it and save it

For future to shine

In the clear water

Undo the clutter

For the birds

For the butterflies

To flutter their wings

Carrying souls with a ‘Can do’ spirit

A Nonet Starts With Nine Syllables

On some days nothing seems to be right

Sometimes things go hazy or dull

Wishing it was shining bright

Day goes helter skelter

No reason or rhyme

Don't complain

Grin and bear

Dreamer

Gleam!

 

Shell

It’s a story of a well

In a remote place where the kings dwell

Girls couldn’t be in a shell

 

No matter it is three

Or a week into thirty three

It’s a girl, a Shree

 

While still in growing spells

Tissues and organs with tiny little cells

Bodies that can’t hear bells

 

Pulled out of slumber

From the mother's number

A bed of dark umber

 

There are thousands

Hanging in the deep seated bands

With no legs or hands

 

 Into the earth's womb

They travel into their dark tomb

Mom can not even comb

 

If by chance you hear

Baby girl’s cries, as the winds tear

With softness of a shear

 

‘Ma Lakshmi! the baby’s here!’

Alas in her world lasting a mere

Couple of cries to hear…

 

She is sent home

Into the milky ocean, with an Aum

Chanting as she drowns

 

Little does she know

The wells In that village show

Through the wind or snow

 

Not only to God’s name

But to the stars and soundless game

Those keep dumping the fame

 

There is no hiding

No, nothing dreading from abiding

It’s going sliding..