Waves…………..
As the roars subside, between the shores…………….
The waves retrieve back to their homes………..
There is this darkness on the shores of heaven……….
And I as a lost traveller sit on the shores………..
Trying to seek some lost voices…….
Which I thought was dimmed by the roars of waves…..
I sit near the ocean, Enchanted, engulfed…..Lost…
For I hear no voices, which I seek……
I sit near the shores of heaven……
As the silence engulfs me…….
My questions keep turning darker like a moonless night……
And then suddenly my silence speaks like waves of 100 feet
But the ocean is still silent outside…….
My answers lie in the seas inside……..
I take a deep plunge and let myself seek……
And I do all that at the shores of heaven
The Notebook in Some Corner
It was kept in some corner of my room,
full of dust and cobwebs
looking exactly the same as it had looked when I had first bought it;
as if it had stagnated in time,
transcended the process of decay
My Notebook; perfectly familiar.
I saw a bookmark coming out of it
pink in colour, not my favourite coffee brown.
As I opened it
its pages seemed to revolt.
The Notebook that had looked so sturdy from the outside,
was withering away from within,
I started reading its content,
trying to make sense of it.
The ink had faded
and so had my memory or so it seemed.
I read it from cover to cover
successfully pretending to be ignorant.
I quickly glanced through all the newspaper clippings, some dried leaves and a couple of photographs
neatly stuck on its pages.
Still making no attempt however,
to read what was written on its pages;
The complaints, moments of joy or the Cinderella Story…
Well, they all seemed pointless now.
Even though they were the building blocks,
the essence of my Identity.
The vibrant pink, the fairy tale fantasies and the happy endings don’t look real anymore.What remains is the shriveled up cover and the yellow pages.
So, I closed it,
kept it back in the corner.
My Notebook has learnt to live in a corner now….
and so have I.
What is the scope of Online poets or ” E-Poets”? Do they get recognized?
As a on-line poet, I feel my scope of getting recognized is less; Yet! I’m known to few of my poet friends..The Point is, ” Can there be a change in the world of poetry were book poets and E-poets be recognized equally?
Glorious Past and Inglorious Present – TM Mohan
(Seated in the Time Machine, I shuttle between the Past Time Zone and the Present)
Wish I were born a hundred and more years ago,
Affable, humane and caring were people, sans ego.
Life had been all through, easy, peaceful and cheering,
Llike a muted stream through deep woods meandering.
Neighbours helped me readily when in dire need,
They were a source of strength to rely upon indeed.
Now, very little, I know about the person next door,
Neighbours remain strangers, a situation, I deplore.
To places afar, I walked all the way down merrily,
Under the shade of sprawling trees lined up grandly.
Held up in a traffic jam, now, I endure an anxious moment,
Enveloping fumes, deafening noise, painfully I confront.
Braving summer nights, I slept up on the open terrace,
Cool breeze embracing, instantly I fell asleep, fearless.
Sound sleep eludes me now as disturbed I am of nightmare,
The unabated, alarming rise of break-ins give me a scare.
Unadulterated and genetically unaltered, the food was harmless,
Immunity strong and ready to fight ‘aliens’, I was free from illness.
Soaked in fertilizers inorganic and treated with pesticides harmful,
The food impaired my defense, exposed I am to diseases dreadful.
Household chores I did myself, keeping me confident and busy,
Machines now take over the task, making me dependent and lazy.
Seated comfortably, devices I can operate, a marvel of technology,
Alas! When they fail at a critical moment, I am let down very badly.
Life then moved in a balanced rhythm, generating harmony,
Moving at an erratic pace, life now generates tension and agony.
The distant past was glorious, despite personal comforts, lacking,
Comforts bounty, now, peace the essence of happy life, is missing.
Spent quality time with my family in the past, leisure aplenty,
Interacting and playing with children built a lasting bond strongly.
Leaving early and returning home late, I am a visitor of the family,
My demanding job deprives me of their jocund company sadly.
Crime and terrorism –free society set an ambience endearing,
Happy were those days; living in a righteous society was pleasing.
Now crime -ridden and terrorism infested society we live in, sadly,
It is like going thru’ a maze, struggling to find a way out, hopefully.