Sunday, December 20, 2009

Jesus is still the same




I met Jesus by the roadside
As I was begging with no sight
Jesus came and called me up
Touched my eyes and showed me light.

I met Jesus when about to be stoned
Hiding my face from the revealing sun
Jesus came and pleaded my case
And then, my accusers there were none.

I met Jesus when I was dead
With relatives crying and no sup’
Jesus came and calmed them down
Held my hand and woke me up.

I met Jesus from the tree top
Straining to look who is He
Jesus came and called my name
Came into my house and dined with me.

Days have passed and so have years
Yet I still meet Jesus everywhere
By the roadside, from the tree
Always eager to set me free.

He’s the same as He was
Full of compassion, glory and power
Touches and heals every heart
Sends His blessings in Heavenly showers.

Friday, November 20, 2009

I...



My mirror shows who am I
And the reflections of the day...
The smiles that are flashed on me reflect
The I that I market everyday...

It's what people see u as,
I is what everyone wants you to be...
Just be what you are to yourself
And to others that's what you'll be...

Friday, November 13, 2009

When...


When you open your dark fringes and see that the night is long;
When you try to cling and find, your lonely twig is gone;
When you are alone in the cold cold day and the day doesn’t end;
When on a rainy day you sit alone without a friend;
When your smile is painful, forced and sad;
When you want earnestly but cannot become glad;
When you want a friend and can’t find one;
Remember you always have someone;
Because Jesus loves you.

He will let you see in the dark and carry you in His palm;
And in the cold cold day He’ll enfold you and keep you warm;
On a rainy day He’ll turn the raindrops into angels heavenly;
And you’ll no longer smile painfully but sweetly and mirthfully;
He’ll make your joy complete and be your true friend;
And unlike those who desert you and go He’ll be with you till the end.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

A Dream




Every night as I close my eyes
You just seem to travel miles
And we talk of all the things under the sun
Look into each other’s eyes and know
You are there for me forever.

You make me feel so special
You make me make sense
You make me feel as if each day is meant
For me and me alone.
And everything that I can see, is a gift
That I should cherish and make use of.

You make me feel that I am the best person
And I can do everything if I just tried
You make the world appear so beautiful
You make all the dreams appear real
And you make me feel
I should never open my eyes.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Papa


I am sorry, I ran away that day
When you went off to buy vegetables after school
I was so sulky.
I thought I did not matter to you
And I wanted to get lost somewhere;
So that I would matter.

For the first time I realised,
How big a small town could be!
And how scared I can be,
When you are not around.

I did not want to get lost;
I wanted to exist to matter.
And when I found it later
That you kept searching for me,
Leaving aside all your works;
I realized, I matter.

Since then, I have tried to follow you,
As my world has turned bigger and I feel smaller.
And though at times you do not show
I know that I matter to you.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Anecdotes #1

True to my word, this is the first ANECDOTE.

I started writing poems when I was in my 2nd grade. I used to show my poems to my English teachers so that they can give their comments and help me improve.
When I was in my 12th grade, I wrote a poem ‘The Peepal’ that is one of my favourite poems. This poem is also the longest poems that I have ever written (190 lines). My English teacher, Mrs. Mousumi Das, was very impressed by my work and while teaching ‘Tithonus’, a poem by, she mentioned my poem in class and asked the class to go through the poem to see how it is to feels the nature.
During that time, some of my friends started teasing me and making fun of me. It was then that our teacher told a boy “Mark my words, a day will come when you’ll also write poems because there is a poet in everyone, it’s just that it has never found a reason to express itself”.
Guess what, I met that boy after two years and he showed me one of his poems. Apparently, he had written the poem when the girl he loved ditched him. After all, he did become a poet!!! 

Friday, October 30, 2009

In Memory


Can we ever unveil the bride
That makes us weep and gloomy?
Whose match is fixed at the wink of the eye
Even in days bright and sunny.

I don’t know why I feel so insecure
Even when the daylights tinkle
And the world is so full
Perhaps for my world feels empty
Of the candle that brightened it up
And every time the flowers whisper, as I sit and mull.

Whisper a melancholic strain
That’s too dear to my soul
And it embalms my weeping heart
Even when brine from my eyes roll.

Sleeping in deep slumber
On the earthy mother’s cosy lap
Sleeps my dainty shorter hand
And a most sanctified cherubim
Who sings God’s glory
As in Paradise she stands.

I fondly remember her little bed
That rested her forever
And the thousands of flower
That formed her bed cover.

Every little thing reminds me
Of our naughty fits
Of our pranks and fun
And in every little kid
I can see her glow
Glow of the beautiful setting sun.

The most delicate flowers
As they plant an airy kiss
Give me the feeling of the presence
Of someone I most miss.

And the green, pretty woods
That sings a choir song
Reminds me of the wood
That formed the resting place
Of that flawless body
That always did every good.

As the canopy that my eyes behold
Shelter my imagination’s deity
As she used to enter through it
Chirping and hopping like a bird pretty.
Just ten years and two months
Had made her little life
And brought her so close to my bosom
That I shall be reminded of her, of her alone
If in March flowers blossom.

The rain drops and the winds
Make me see those days
When we danced in the soaking rains
And breathed the windy rays.

Nothing can make a place
That she has reserved in my heart
And therein she still lies
Not in the barren grave
Not in her rotting woody shelter
But in my heart, which still cries.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

You hold the reins of your horse


You are the master of your galley
You are the one who makes it move
Snaking through the waters green
On the unending stretch of brine
That splashes and tosses around you
And its waves towering high
Show you the doom that may be nigh
And the jutting rocks hither and thither
Where you ought to be careful as you slither
But you are the master of your galley
And by your will, every storm you can allay.


You are the pilot of your craft
You are the one who makes it fly
Slicing the air as it races through
The void of nihility but air
That moans and sighs as it parts
And shrieks with delight as it meets again
Telling you your efforts are all vain
And the clouds that overshadow your sight
When you think things aren’t going right
But you are the pilot of your craft
And you can control it by your shaft.


You are the athlete of your life
You are the one who runs it
Through joys and sorrow, fun and pain
Ups and downs and through plains
Through tough times and through failures
Your boat you have to manoeuvre
And the upsets and barriers you face
Where you shouldn’t give up the race
Because you are the owner of your life
You are to save it through all strife.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

In the Graveyard...




One, two, three... as the numbers flow
A little lass; eight, nine, ten... runs frantically
Searching for a hidden spot – relief from exhaus’.
Into the gray yard her dainty legs carried her
Where the fir and birch and pine lined the walls
And in the clearing stood bravely, the slabs and the cross’.

Can a better place ever be found?
I wonder... no wonder
The searching eyes searched for a hollow tree
A bush or thick heather and rested
Upon that fresh mound barely six feet
And couldn’t move, it didn’t want to be free.

The earth smelt fresh, the air aromatic
There was a serene silence and eeriness
Draining away, the staleness of life
This world is too exiguous, this yard’s room enough
Too good, from the brutish erudite world
And this brusque life with its customary strife.

I wouldn’t want an inch more
Than the measured space granted to me
I’d be glad enough in my wooden home
It’s so enchanting to feel this loving calm
Liberty – from the labour, this world of fantasy
Peacefully lying in a burying tomb.

“Amy! Where art thou?  It’s getting dark.”
What’s it that calls me back?
This name that doth follow you everywhere
This existence that’s reality
And I know I should live my life and suffer
Entangled in this worldly snare.

Until one day when I’ll be carried to this paradise
From where I am being taken away
Where I wish to stand and stay
And I’ll be nothing but soil again
Forgotten with my rotten bones
As in this yard, in a grave, I’ll lie.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Eyes


Tremulous and bright

Dark and light

Telling a story or singing a song

Flashing a smile

Heaving a sigh

The mysteries of the eye go long.

Hiding the pain

Enjoying the rain

They mirror your every thought

Dropping a tear

Displaying a fear

They treasure every glimpse you ever caught.

Lighting your way

Letting you see the day

Eyes are a guide, gentle and kind

Speaking your heart

Seeing their heart

Eyes are the bond that binds.

Gulmohar in April


My heart warms as I see the Gulmohar

Decked in a flaming attire

I feel the fiery glow

Blazing under the veil of sapphire.

Tiny leaflets whirl and drop

On my head as a soft shower

And I feel a pleasant touch

As I stand under its bower.

It welcomes me into its vicinity

Strewing flowers on my way

And its leaflets fan me cool

After the hot April day.

Cosy words I hear from its parted lips

As I lap their wiry tongues

Even though it’s all Greek to me

I know to me they have just sung.

Coupling with the blazing sun

It’s the flame on the high perch

And swaying nineteen to the dozen

To its music, it makes everyone lurch.

Fluting its lute when the hot wind blows

It lures everyone under its shade

And before its lusty ballet dance

Everything seems to fade.

Decked in ruby it sheds its glow

Spreading its florid radiance

Bringing twilight in the gloom

Gulmohar enriches its ambience.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Never let it go...


Never leave the hand that wiped tears off your eyes
Never leave the hand that held you when you were falling
Never leave the hand that lifted your fallen being
Never leave the hand whose firm grip gave you assurance
Never leave the hand that touched your heart with a touch
Never leave the hand that has given you so much.

You may think you will find someone better
But with time you will realize
Nothing could have held you better
Than the hand you let go.

It's Dawning


The Sky at the horizon is blushing

Turning florid and florid as a girl newly in love

Her eyes brightening at every little praise

Her lips quivering her feet dainty like a dove.

The birds in the trees are twittering

Getting ready for their early morning flight

Waking up each other and saying their goodbyes

Shaking off their slumber, getting over the night.

The grass in the greens are dancing

As far as the eye may watch them grow

Wearing a crown of pearl in each single blade

Bending right and bending left; giving a lovely, gentle bow.

The butterflies are closing and opening their wings

Ready to start their kissing spree

Flying from flower to flower in a flutter

Making them dance and soaring free.

This is how the day welcomes the sun each day

With a blush, a twitter, a dance and a kiss

So open your eyes and take in the sight

Wake up, it’s beauty you cannot miss.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Simple Things


The simple things in life that do not cost a thing

Makes a big difference if uncared for

While a smile can straighten every curve

A frown can twist everything for sure.

Little flowers by the roadside can warm you up

The small streams can cool you

And just for a simple change in your heart

Your world can turn all new.

A simple word of praise can make

Someone’s day all bright

A simple sorry can make all strains

Simply turn all right.

But a harsh word can make someone’s heart

Grow all sour and cold

And you know your unspoken looks

Can bring miseries untold.

A glance at the sky captures the stars

High up in the night sky

And if you close your eyes it distances

Every relation that’s nigh.

If you open up your arms wide

The world becomes your own

And if you just close them tight

Everything turns unknown.

Monday, October 19, 2009

It's nice to belong...

A smile lights up your world,
A smile flashed at you
And you keep thinking how and why
Someone could smile at you.

It is not that you don't deserve it;
It is not that you donot long.
You can not trust the smile was true
Just because the you feel you donot belong.

At times, you feel you are in the crowd
And at times you are all lone.
People want you to understand them
But for you all hearts are stones.

You cry and you are offered a tissue;
And you so desire a shoulder to lean
You want to pour your pains out
But suddenly the world has turned mean.

Just smile back and keep smiling dear
That's the way to love and live.
You may not get all your smiles back
But slowly you will learn to believe.

Though the way is hard
And the night is long
Keep smiling, you will get some back
and you will know, it's so nice to belong.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

You are a poet as well...

Poems are like mirror that reflect the deepest feelings in the most wonderful ways. My confrontation with poem first took place when I had joined school and was amazed at how words could be connected to be sung. That was my nursery experience. Screaming lungs out and trying to be heard more and more and all the while trying to sound better than most others as we would try to match our voices to the rhythm of:

Twinkle, twinkle little star

How I wonder what you are!

Up above the world so high

Like a diamond in the sky.

With time I would feel lost in the beautiful picture painted through words by Wordsworth, Keats, Tennyson, Milton and many more.

And then I realized that everyone is a poet. We only need to pen down our feelings.

Though I am no Wordsworth or Keats, I would like to share my feelings with you so that you may feel lost in the picture that I would paint through words and may be one day you will find the poet in you.

WELCOME DEAR POET...

There are different forms of poetry.

Lyric poetry is short and expresses thoughts and feelings.

Epic poetry is long and depicts history or the lives of great men and women.

Narrative poetry tells a story.

Dramatic poetry is like a play.

Ballad is a narrative poem with a rhyming scheme and short verses.

An elegy is a sad poetry written in someone’s death.

An ode is a celebration and is lyrical addressing a person or thing.

Sonnet is a 14 line poem with a fixed pattern of rhyme.

Blank verse is a poetry that does not rhyme.

Free verse is a poetry that rhymes.

Happy Composing...