That lovely parrot green,
The purple of a royal queen!
A sprinkling of golden yellow
A dash of turquoise below.
The colourful, intoxicating fusion
Suddenly created confusion
And made me realise,
That it wasn’t awfully wise
To wash together,
all those new clothes!!!
Fetch me a stain-remover,
before I receive a dose!
I finally hear you utter,
The words I never thought you would..
‘I lub you, Amma’
To my teachers….
“If I can stand up to the world,
And speak out my mind.
If I am someone today,
And one of a kind,
It is all
(I’m really sorry to be such a wet blanket. I’ve mostly had bad teachers at school/college – ones who played favourites and ones who humiliated – that I never celebrate Teacher’s Day! Its a pity that there are a lot of irresponsible and frustrated people who hold this noble profession).
How very kind of you!
To launch this contest,
And put through a fiery test,
Sifting the carbon and diamonds bright,
The brightest spark being the darkest night!
Although good poetry, I’m nowhere near,
I really had a great time here.
So all I want to tell you,
Is a BIG “Thanki-Thanki-Dou”!!
As a rule, man is a fool.
In unlaundered fiction, he seeks truth,
In a real story, he hunts down a myth.
A genuine poetic attempt, he does “Hoot”
In godawful poetry, he finds genius amid soot!
A real contest, he doesn’t dare participate,
In GPF fortnight, he boldly tries his fate.
As a rule, man is a fool.
I watched this movie last night,
So amazing was it.
All of 2.5 hours,
And you won’t believe it!!
Understand every scene,
Every unspoken word!
Every nuance was felt,
As I watched it all, in fast-forward.
Watch the NRI hero ride,
A bullock-cart in fields wide.
Out there his heart he tore,
For a “Mehbooba” he saw no more.
I could not…
Wait to see the DVD seller,
And shake him by the throat,
The man who, for a dollar,
Made us a scape-goat
The golden sun is at its peak,
Lazy people are taking a nap.
My keyboard is fast at work,
And I’m tired…of writing crap.
As I hear your voice.
The sweetness in your welcome,
the affirmation in your tone,
Make me believe.
That I will be cared for,
That my plea will not go unheard,
That my desire will be granted.
That better days await me,
As I wait for you.
To give me a sign,
A confirmation if you please,
That you will send an emissary,
To fix my washing-machine.
But all I hear is, your sweet
“Please hold the line,
Your call is important to us”.
I still yearn….
(With all due respect, I’ve seen a lot of poems categorised as “free verse poetry” by the authors. I have to admit I am not a fan of this form of poetry, as it seems like an easy escape from rhyme and/or reason. Anyway, it was fun attempting this).
It was the end of his journey,
Tired and weary was he.
‘Twas his legs that wouldn’t move,
He sat down by a tree.
Until now, he had pushed and rushed,
Through the milling crowd.
‘Twas survival of the fittest,
He’d bulldozed his way, he was proud.
Dollars he had made millions,
There was nothing that he lacked.
‘Twas Pounds (or kilograms?) he now lost,
He sold his Ferrari, and back-packed.
“I’ve wasted my life”, he said with spite
‘Tis time to “stand and stare”.
He wanted to ride a motor-bike,
Let the wind blow through his hair.
Only now, he was bald.
(Please readers, do let me know, what you made out of this..ahem…poem. Thanks!)
Today I tried, Poem # 4 to write,
Rattled my brains with all my might.
Fingers jay-walked the keyboard,
‘I won’t budge’, the mouse avowed.
‘Love, Nature, Friendship’… I mused,
The topic is where I am still confused.
“Aw, this writer’s block” I cursed,
The block glared back, lips pursed.
“You’re no poet, you imposter,
‘Tis GPF week, get outta here!!”
(I bet nobody can come up with anything more rotten than this. And I guess I don’t need to explain why this is rotten, right?)