Wednesday, September 29, 2010

This Piece of Allah’s Beautiful Earth

This piece of Allah’s Beautiful Earth
on which I stood sat danced and raced
played and dreamed and saw a new birth
of life, in a new country so strategically placed;

I saw my family living together
I saw friends separate and gather                     
I saw learning grow and heard music play
I saw trees dry bare and bear the weather;

This Piece of Allah’s Beautiful Earth
 drenched me in happiness
Gave me peace and the art of cleanliness
Filled my heart and soul with memories to cherish
With Love and All Love more, and Hatred less;

Of green and brown and rainbow vibgyor
This Piece of Earth was my Environment
Of trees and flowers and water pure
It provided all good, joy and enjoyment;

This piece of Earth is where the house was built
The house where I woke up to sweet childhood filled
With affection excitement freedom and no guilt
The house where never ever a song was stilled;

No more can I step on it nor walk nor touch the
Sacred Dust , as time ordained to remain on it has passed
How long to stay play lay or pray, one day has to be
The Last ,
 to be aside, to be quiet and to others, give way.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Poem in Response to ~Jingle Poetry Potluck Week 46 ~Love and Its Not being There

Over the years I have learnt

To be soft and tender in my speech
If I have to reach
The heart and soul of someone I love;
Over the days I have tried
To be patient and brave
To bear the harsh realities
And save- my strength to wait at length
To let the silent tears soothe my fears
Of The Grave and Lonely years
Over The moments I have stepped
back, to give space
To close my eyes and feel
The serene face and tender touch of
The Spirit I so dearly love.

Over my life
I have drifted, along with the flow
I came to know
I have to go and be slow
To move step by step
shed tears drop by drop
Over my heart I found, nothing was my own
It All had to be gifted, to known and unknown

Over my Heart I saw, as inside I bled
Outside All was Black as the invisible was red,
The return of Love was hard to find
Values virtues had vanished, no one was really kind
The more you cared and shared, the more you lost
No voice could be heard until it was a shout

And with all your sincere Love
Your love was always in doubt.

Childhood Memories

We used to play and sing
and watch and share almost everything
We used to taste sweet lemon drops
and imagine treasure hunts with all sorts of props;
We used to play hide and seek
behind the bushes and behind the trees;
We used to sit on the walls and talk
and play hop scotch drawn with chalk;
We used to build castles in the sand
and act like pirates with the one eyed band;
We used to read stories of wonderland
and sing and dance in our little fairyland;
We used to look at the far off stars
and were unaware of the terrifying wars;
We used to find love and care
and peace and happiness everywhere;
We used to …but wait…
I will write more if it is not too late.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Only Allah Knows The Truth

Allah knows the truth
why people lie
why they live
and why they die;

why there is so much hate
why anger is at large
what is the destined fate;

kill and be killed
still and be stilled

laugh with all and weep alone
be garlanded under the stone

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

War in the Clouds

Clouds rumble

As water pops patters and drizzles

Lightening flashes as if

A war is being fought in the skies

Guns rumble and flashes

Of blasts light up the horizon

Strange is the silence

No screams or cries

Can I hear?

Maybe there are no people

No more

How red is the darkness

Even in the dark.

Blood has filled the earth

The home, the lake and the street,

I am awake I cannot sleep

For many are lying awake

In pain and weep for life in Death

The clouds rumble

The rain washes down

Dust from the skies

The red may turn to green

Who knows who has the morn seen

When no limbs no legs no hands

Only the eyes are between

No cries , only the silence speaks.

Clouds rumble as if the war,goes on

What prize we reap?

Nature watches Unseen-

The rain pops and patters and

I am awake……

Monday, September 20, 2010

The Street Buyer

Always on his feet
dragging turning pushing
the typical rustic
odd two wheeled wooden cart
of ancient discovered artefacts
it seems,
layered with dusty mud
creaking tweaking rolling
into lane by lane,street by street;
He is Buying,not selling-
old tin cans, newspapers pale
books torn, pipes cut
tyres flattened,shoes worn,
Calling ' from house to house
shabbily shorn with hints of 'louse'
He is 'all business' no yelling'
quick in his art as he pulls the cart
'His Loud Call'shakes you with a start
if you wish to make a buck or two
then its over to you
For he won't wait outside your gate
'His time is money' never to be late'
Move move move , Call Call Call-
'sell your stuff''now once and for all'
Its just the sound for you
The words are minced,its the tone so true
come rain or storm, he comes early in the morn;
what rugged determination, consistent regulation
no discrimination- his trade graph'
never shows a fall;
Hear Ye Here comes His cart and call
Are you ready with your goods and haul?

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Hunger Pangs

There was a time in this beautiful world
when food was free and plenty
when you could just eat whatever you pleased
and did not have to say, my plate is empty;

there were no plates in fact
God was Merciful and as always Great
He sent down fruit 'man o salwa' intact
For He loves His Creations simple and straight;

where has all the good food gone
and All that was planted and grown
why are welkins showing fury and anger
and mankind is suffering pangs of hunger?

Saturday, September 4, 2010

I walked on the pages of history

I walked on the pages of history
and discovered poetry
I stepped on the stages of mystery
and discovered imagery
I gazed at the rages of fires and flames
and discovered slavery-