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Poets, Poems n Poetry
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Budding poets....
message 51:
by
Meenakshi
(new)
Jan 06, 2011 01:53AM
omg you guys are really good.Both of you..
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Sinner's DesireInto the shadows of Darkness,
Gleaming like the Midnight Sun,
There lies a Desire Unquenched;
Condemned to live in the fear of Light,
Condemned to be Imprisoned for Life,
Named Untouchable, Filthy, Poor, Wretched
Desire. Taboo, if i gave it Light
And Death if i didn't, of my mind.
I wish to Live, that's my desire
And this world won't let me!
The World want me Dead!
I have sinned too much!
Sinned by being Happy,
Sinned by Winning,
Sinned by taking birth, for it
Added to the Unnecessary Burdens on the Earth.
Added to the grief of those who lost.
Added to the sorrow of those who rejoice my sadness.
But Have I Lost Yet?
No! I have not lost yet!
If you don't want me to Smile, I'll Laugh!
If you don't want me to Win, I'll be the Alexander!
If you don't want me to Live, I'll Burn you
With the jealousy and Sadness that I am Alive!
If it's a Taboo, I'll have it as my Addiction!
If I am condemned by you to see Lght, I'll Outshine
The Darkness in which you want me to be Tamed!
If I am Condemned by you, I'll Break Free!
Because I am a Sinner, who desires to Sin,
And if Life is my Sin, Then I will Sin
For the rest of my Life...!!!
Once upon a time a witchwho lived in a town called Daisyrich
was wandering in her garden
Butterly, caterpillar and a hen
were all shrieking out in fear
and her long long nails o dear!
were painted black like a dark night
"Hells and Heavens shalt know my spell
that I hereby cast upon little Tinkerbell
May her lovely wings melt like snow
until the curse is broken; shall never grow
and her lsut and charm may die
so that she never flies in the sky"
Having said this she twitched her wand
and with heaven and hell she made this bond
Everyday with the first ray of sunlight
Tinkerbell's light shone bright
but alas! today when she flapped her wings
she instead wrapped her arms around her things
Griefstricken she started crying loudly
and Peter Pan came to her rescue proudly.
"Poor creature don't you cry
To get your wings back I will try"
He broke the wand and cast a spell
and to great surprise of Tinkerbell
the spell reversed and the witch died
On her death not a single eye cried
her body all alone had burnt
A very important lesson we learnt
"Six words the wiccan law fulfills
an ye harm none do what ye will
Bide the wiccan law ye must
in perfect love and perfect trust
Follow this with mind and heart
Merry ye meet and merry ye part"
I have written a poem like this for the first time in my life.Well, I tried to make it look as kiddish as possible but I'm not sure if it really is that kiddish.Besides I am also searching for a title.Can someone suggest something??
why don't you folks compile all your poems into a book and get those published- "Great poems by young Indians"
BTW, I am not joking. I liked all your poems, though I never read poetry.
BTW, I am not joking. I liked all your poems, though I never read poetry.
@Smitha thanks..Actually my grandfather, father, mother and sister are also poets (there'll be more secret poets in my family but they keep this hobby a secret) and I have vowed to myself that I will only publish any book (be it poetry, fiction or anything else) after my grandfather publishes his work.
CURSE OF POVERTYI can see these lines
the dark black cloth that you wear
half naked half covered
I can see you shivering
I know your eyes are looking into me
You can see the guilt inside them
I fear that thou shalt know what I did
I want to remove my eyes from thee
It hard, so hard for me you see
thou pourest thy eyes like sword
and cut me into two halves
you make me bleed
I know not what you need
Thou hast no shelter over thy head
I sit in the car wondering what mislead,
what went wrong and where
with the same skin we stand here
You on the road and I in the car
my skin is smooth thy withest a scar
I feel sorry but its too late
Curse of poverty is your fate!
Thank you all guys, sorry for late replies cuz my pre-boards are goin on and m ruined!!!Neways, i feel like a stranger after having come back after 2 days! Do you guys remember me???
Love poems are not my forte either.Nonetheless,here goesDO YOU HEAR?
Echoes in me, a whisper loud
Louder than my heart could ever beat.
I tear away the ear of your heart,
Place it gently in the heart of my heart.
When you say you don’t hear a syllable,
I think of a knife and your other ear.
Here is my poem(one of my favorites,written as a tribute to the mahatma)The Portrait
That Painter painted this portrait,
Innumerable paintings painted
tried to better Himself...
..and painted the most perfect!
That Painter painted a God,
moulding in human form,
tonsured head crowning a frail body,
frailer clothes of no man's labor..
barefoot sores speaking a language their own,
that which He loves to call His own!!
That Painter painted this portrait,
innumerable paintings painted,
tried to better Himself...
and held a mirror image of His own!!
composed in 1998 when I was a medical student(year 2)..
Guiding Light(dedicated to Dr.Ian Wittenberg,my teacher par excellence!)
You held my hand,
My light shone bright!
Darkness dispelled,
Eternity revealed
......How do I say 'thank you'?
You walked ahead,
showed me the light!
my heart exults,
Why do I need eternity?
.......two words to say:
'thank you!'
So here is my gratitude,
dawn of the light!
My lips quiver
......I will need eternity!
for time is not enough,
my actions will speak to you
.....and say 'thank you!'
(most recent one).
To my love..Your eyes spoke,my mouth listened
Love is the language
Tis best we leave it there
O’er where my heart is.
My eyes beheld the one
Forever this wait it seems
Till I saw you
A glimpse enchanted
Will that be all?
Love is pain,love is torment
Fools they are that say thus;
Love is you,love is me
Love is patience,tis persistence
It is hopelessness filled with optimism
….that one day my world too will have a rising sun!!
Rengaraj wrote: "thanks Meenakshi...:)"Welcome..do check out mypoems in this section.I hope you'll like them.You know I like deep philosophical poems.I myself write such kind of poems.Such poems cannot be written without purpose.Thats what I like about your poetry.It has a purpose, it has its own language.
Hi Meenakshi,I liked the 'curse of poverty'.It shows the amount of compassion that you have for our fellow humans,here is another one of my favorites,that has won poetry awards...
Flowers;Neglected.
Tread the path slowly and soft,
these men are asleep-their eyes wide awake,
grope about in the darkness of this world!
Nimble toes find their way,creeping past these monsters;
there lies a little FLOWER,
illuminated by the drenching sun,
the moon sings and the angels chorus
--then why is it withering away?
Behold the sorry sight-the soiled hands and tearful eyes,
could somebody rest their arms?
they are working away,working away,working.....
shall I kiss their rosy hands?
surely my lips will bleed;they are rugged;
where is the Messiah?where is the Saviour?
should he come a minute too late,
who will tend to these flowers neglected?
SKULLS From here where I sit,
I can see the horizon, bright and shining.
In the trail of it, I see Skulls atop their bodies.
Round, Flat, Pointed, Sleek, Glossy in the light.
As I observe them, I notice that
I know many of them.
Birds in the sky chirp and cry,
Because they know of the truth behind my eye.
Unlike the skulls in front of me
With Dark, Haunting eyes;
My eyes are pure and full of light.
As I see through those skulls, I notice
A few like me Perishing.
I can see that those Skulls are eating away
Their visions. Skulls are making
People like me into people like them.
Once those skulls had eyes like me,
Pure, Peace, Innocent eyes.
But then like a virus had the sin spread.
Sloth, Gluttony, Wrath, Envy, Greed, Lust, Pride
And all others eating their eyes.
I see many of them are young, even
Child, Women, Aged; diseased beings;
Waiting to increase their numbers.
Like plague those viruses of sins spread,
More contagious beings are born.
This Earth has turned Infectious,
It has grown greedy of the blood.
And we are the ones harboring this lust.
Every now and then, a child is born,
It hears not a cry of joy,
But the cry of a doctor that they Earned!
As the child comes to understand,
He is infected with the virus of sins.
His face starts turning into a skull.
And as he reaches adolescence,
Another skull is added to the number.
But there are a few lucky ones
Who escape the infection too soon.
They live, At Least TRY to fight.
Their Will defines the span of their War.
But ultimately, his power gives up.
He is then face with two possibilities,
Either to get Lost in the darkness
Or to let himself become a skeleton.
If only, these different ones combine;
A new Virus would be born,
Anti-virus to the earlier one.
If only, we, humans unite,
We would be the victors and not
The victims of the war.
Let’s join our hands and take initiative
To fight this virus. If not,
Then Let’s get lost in the darkness
Because Earth is the home of humans, not skeletons!!!
wow...nice indeed..both of you should be giving poetry writing lesson's..@rengaraj
wow you won an award...good...sometimes even I manage an award here and there for my poetry..but your poem's really very good..
i found this in the preface of a friends psychology text book.... quitesome time ago.
It stuck with me.
i have no idea who the poet is.
(1978)
When we were young and very new,
I pledged my deepest love to you.
And as weve grown along the way,
That love grows deeper every day
(1991)
Now as leaves begin to turn ,
and autumn knocks upon our door,
I'll say it once again to u.
I pledge my deepest love once more.
(2002)
Long ago i pledged my troth to you.
While holding your hand in mine,
And through the years i always knew
Our love will last the ends of time!
It stuck with me.
i have no idea who the poet is.
(1978)
When we were young and very new,
I pledged my deepest love to you.
And as weve grown along the way,
That love grows deeper every day
(1991)
Now as leaves begin to turn ,
and autumn knocks upon our door,
I'll say it once again to u.
I pledge my deepest love once more.
(2002)
Long ago i pledged my troth to you.
While holding your hand in mine,
And through the years i always knew
Our love will last the ends of time!
The sands of timethey slip not
a knot well tied...
my heart to yours!
You left me
Did you take the tears in my eye?
you kissed me,
did you see me in your eyes?
My heart weighs heavy,
shall I see you again?
even the tide of time will stop;
watch us with bated breath,
tis your heart forever in mine!!
An impromptu poem for Ms.M,the lady of my life...!!
I know why the free bird sings!she sees the growth in her wings,
spanning the entire sky!
The caged bird knows not;
whither wings,whither freedom,
whither skies,whither weather,
whither song,whither poem!
tis a blessing she knows!
or perhaps she doesn't?
flying right across the clear blue sky!
This one knows naught;
neither love nor sacrifice,
neither waves nor surf;
tipping the wings as she goes flying by!
When the door does open,
a beacon beckons;
there lies the clear blue sky!
O tis a pathetic sight,
moaning where a chirp would suffice,
-Have I forgotten to fly?
Just remembered this poem The Muddlehead by Ogden Nash when talking to a muddle headed friend of mine :Dhttp://www.drgabb.com/poetry/poetry_g...
This is one of the three poems i recollect from my school days. The other two are about 'good walls make good neighbors' and 'a visit to the dentist'. Not sure if i got the names right!
Oh yes, 'good fences make good neighbours'. It still remains one of my favourite poems. I think the title was 'Mending the Wall' or something of that sort.
yep 'mending the wall' should be the right one! Its the first poem that taught me puns, alliterations and then the muddle head showed how to play with words!!!
'At lunch he scratched a piece of bread,
And spread some butter on his head.'
Ogden Nash is easily the funniest poet I've ever read.
And spread some butter on his head.'
Ogden Nash is easily the funniest poet I've ever read.
Aditya wrote: "Just remembered this poem The Muddlehead by Ogden Nash when talking to a muddle headed friend of mine :Dhttp://www.drgabb.com/poetry/poetry_g...
This is one of the three poems ..."
The names are perfectly right.Although I have'nt read the other two in the school surriculum, I have read them separately.
Muddlehead was in 8th grade if I'm not wrong.
I wrote this one ages ago in school.....REPERCUSSIONS
A young boy who’d been told often enough of the virtues of honesty,
Resolved to tread the same path even in difficulty.
He decided he’d never tell lie nor steal things,
Love all those around him, be they paupers or kings.
He knew the path he’d chosen was going to be tough,
And the journey he had initiated was going to be rough.
But his resolve was firm and his mind was set,
He wanted to find the truth in the advice that he’d never forget.
Saying so, he walked forth, never to turn back again,
To bear all that befell, sunshine or rain.
But how was he to know of the hardships to come,
For advices are not to be followed, only to be given by some.
The very next day at school, the teacher asked him a question he didn’t know,
He refused to cheat, even when proffered to so.
So he was beaten by his teacher for his ignorance,
But he bore his first reward of honesty with forbearance.
And later in the day when his teacher asked him if he had taught well,
He replied honestly, that he thought it was worse than hell.
The teacher was infuriated by his remark hence,
And he was beaten again for his insolence.
He uttered not a cry nor did he complain,
The path of righteousness was difficult to him it was plain.
When back at home his mother asked him how he’d fared at school that day,
His honest reply infuriated her straightaway.
So he was beaten once again,
The poor boy, his honesty did not go in vain.
And then, while playing his team decided to cheat,
But he was honest enough to point it out to the kids across the street.
Furious now his teammates told him to quit the field,
From their wrath, his honesty did not shield.
But the poor fellow bore it with courage and goodwill,
It was a small price for honesty, he decided still.
And when in the evening, he had guests at his place,
He honestly told them they’re a great nuisance on their face.
This remark annoyed his father no end,
And the poor fellow was grounded for the weekend.
All his agonies made him realise with tact,
That advices look good only in books is a fact.
THE ENDLESS NIGHTAfter every morning there is a night,
Long, unending and a disappointment outright;
The last rays of the sun are peeping through,
And you long to cherish each and every hue;
But now, it won’t be long
For the light to disappear and darkness will come along.
Fiery…impossible to penetrate,
You can cry and despair all you want;
But of no use will be your rant.
It’ll torture, traumatise and make you suffer every instant.
And all the aids you have are just too blunt,
To pierce the darkness and set your soul free.
And yet you can’t stop and grieve.
All is dark; it’s impossible to see,
Where you are heading or what lies ahead,
You have to live with it and go on until you drop dead.
dhanyavaad nahi saadhvaad.Parantu mitra yeh sahasa hindiprem kaise jhalak utha?
oh and that rewminds me, I also write in hindi.
Akanksha wrote: "I don't mah mum does though. Just feelin' patriotic i guess. And u knw what, mitra sounds dumb!"heheheh I know.
I'm actually good in hindi.My mother is from Mathura so she speaks brij bhasha and my father from Bulandshehar so he speaks shudh hindi.Practically everyone in my house speaks in brij bhasha and I have to request them to speak in shudh hindi!
I can imagine...something similar in mah house....both of mah parents from near kanpur so....im not bad at hindi...i just hate writing it!!!
Books mentioned in this topic
Flames Of A Rose (other topics)Flames Of A Rose (other topics)



