Showing posts with label Create-ed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Create-ed. Show all posts

Saturday, March 12, 2016

Silly Emily

Every morning when the Sun shined through,
Emily would rise and run to the window to see who
Filled the day with bright colours and joy?
It was the Sun, silly, soaring up and high.


All day long the little girls and boys played,
In cheerful sunshine or in the gentler shade.
They picked fallen leaves and sprightly flowers,
And Berries bright in the afternoon hours!


They caught to pet - the beetles and butterflies,
And chased away the bees with their wild cries!
The cats and dogs would dance around in glee.
Oh! The Sunny days,  are just so happy, you see!


At her window, Emily waited thus each morning
Seeking the sizzly Sun from behind the yellow awning
“How could the Sun have so much joy to spread?”
Thought Emily, smitten, “What if he were the man, I wed?”


As the evening set, and she retired to her room,
Her eyes grew weary, burdened with a certain gloom.
Night wasn’t as enchanting as the day was to her.
And if you think otherwise, do write your own poem, Sir!


The chilly winds and their silence made matters worse,
Even the howling hounds couldn’t bear the night’s curse!
Cats were restless and in the darkness, went wild.
The tree leaves rustled, fell to the earth as they piled


There were mysterious whispers and rumours around,
The spirits foraged all night through the lost and found.
And despite his best efforts, there was only so much,
The Moon could do, in the dimly night time as such.


Emily lay awake and unsettled  in her bed at midnight.
Thinking how marrying the Sun would make it all right!
The night and its ways brought so much sorrow,
She had to pack her bags by daybreak tomorrow!


At dawn Emily wore her pink bow and her best dress,
After all, it was the day of decisions, the day to impress!
She carried a basket with sweets, lemonade and ice,
He could forever be hers today, if she played nice.


At the top of the hill on that beautiful day, Emily sat,
And laid out a picnic and went on with her little chat!
“Hey, Mr. Sun! Won’t you join me for a bit, down here?!”
“You must be hot, and I have some ice for you, my dear!”


The Sun melted when he heard her sweet voice,
A little speck in pink, speaking out was quite a surprise!
The Sun said, “How lovely and kind, I must say!”
“But it’s forbidden to be near the earth, so here I’ll stay.”


“Come on now, what could possibly go wrong?”
She asked, “Just come for a bit, it won’t be too long!”
“No one will notice here atop the hill, it’s just us two…”
“Ummm and there’s just one thing I want to say to you.”


“Go on,tell me little one” said the Sun, curiously,
“I’m a bit high up here but I can hear you quite clearly!”
“Ummm… ummm, this may seem a bit crazy, I know”
Said Emily, “I want to marry you and go where you go!”


The Sun laughed out loud, “ Each evening, I go west”
He said “and don’t get even just a moment of rest”
“If you went with me, you would lose every wink of sleep”
“And you’d be a groggy girl who'd really want to weep!”


“Oh, it’s evening already, I haven’t a moment to waste”
Said the sun to a glum Emily, and left in a haste!

She said to herself, “I’m tired, I really need to hit the sack.”
“But isn’t he a rude one!” Thought she as she walked back.

-Megha Vishwanath

Thursday, October 22, 2009

A jerky ride...

Not one of my best, I think. But this did happen. This is for S & S. I've completely lost touch with one of you. I hope all's well wherever you are and whatever you are doing :

I woke up this morning and got on with life,
So many things to do, in a short-lived day!
Battle on young soldier in self inflicted strife ...
So many victories await me, no time for play!

And I zoomed out into a sea of black smoke,
Waded for an hour, till my destination showed.
Not a sign of fortune, not a lucky stroke,
Made my day easier with the routine work code.

And I headed back in the reverse direction,
Tracing the paths I had tread hours back.
And cut through the engulfing dust and pollution,
Praying the rest of time would cut me some slack.

In just one short glimpse, of friends by the lane,
Good 'ol memories came by to visit a lone ranger.
Of the timeless talks, I engaged in, time and again,
With a friend, who years ago, was less like a stranger.

What times were they ! Every happy moment counted.
Little gifts and hand written messages were a treasure.
No pretentions, no aspirations were ever flaunted.
When smiles flowed freely, genuine, without any pressure.

And in a moment of rude shock I saw I had stopped,
A little too long at a signal, while others whizzed past.
Caught in a still frame, my confidence had dropped,
And weakly I hoped that moment would forever last.

I could feel nothing, no urge lasted, nothing to grope,
No prejudice, no aggression, no fear, no feeling to bind ...
And in that flash, my heart was filled with the hope,
For the oxymorons of our time, an empty thought and a vacant mind!

Monday, July 13, 2009

Rhyming weed...

There was once a time of splendid, but silent thoughts,
Written down in speechless curves, dashes and dots.
A time when in the wordy gymnastics with a paper and pen,
Only a special few could get themselves a perfect ten!

And today, writing is but just a commoner's hobby..
With growing opinions in every new writer's lobby.
Look around you and you'll see someone tearing down the Internet,
And vehemently, with a sharp toothed mouse and a boisterous key set.
Tip, Tap, Clack, Click, Tip, Tap, Tap, Tap, Tap, Clack, Click
On goes the constant chattering with words, that we carelessly pick.

In this way of today, where few can distinguish their words as good,
Grab a chance, claim my fame, publish this poem, I should!
Before this paper fades, and my writing - no one can really read...
I must walk into the isles of my blog and sow this tiny seed
For in a crowded garden of countless flowers, who'd notice but a weed?

Saturday, June 27, 2009

Driftwood

I'm a piece of driftwood on the stream
No purpose in life, no cherished dream
Going however the current carries me forth
I love nothing and nothing do I loath

Sometimes I get entangled in a crevice or rock
Trees and bushes my way they block
Always the current pushes me on, and then I'm free
Drifting down for the rendezvous with the sea

Nothing more than clay in a potter's hand
Drifting mid-river, now resting on beach sand
Meeting the sea is destined, so I can't be late
So I'm washed away again by the currents of fate

Along the way, other driftwood I see
To some I cling, from some I flee
Some I love, I wish they would stay
But they all finally, just drift away

So it makes me sad, I'm all alone
Bruised and battered, cold to the bone
But there's the sea, just beyond this slope
The journey's end is my only hope

I've reached the sea, no more struggle and strife
I've reached the end, on the river of life
Show's over folks,now lets wind up fast
Freedom and peace, I'm home at last

-Prem

Friday, December 12, 2008

Strange encounters...

This poem is not about aliens :) !

Ever thought why she keeps calling and who's on the line,
When the tele-marketeer calls on a given morning at nine?

Ever remember that noble soul who led you all the way,
An unknown city, roads less traveled, by trust per se?

Ever wondered how the journey went past in lesser while,
Sitting next to a little child, with song along every mile?

Ever figured on the way back home, what's on a cabbie's mind,
Worrying if you struck a conversation, a tell-tale would unwind?

Ever appreciated the wise-cracks of a bus driver en route,
A man nice to you, but in traffic, among brutes is a brute?

Ever recollected the names of all your teachers in school,
Good or bad they tried their best, to help you fish in the pool?

Ever gave an opinion on what would be a better dress to choose,
To fellow-shopper, alone in the colorful riot, leashes let loose?

Ever tipped a handy man more generously for the errands run for you,
For money or not, the service he lends is not what your peers do?

Ever offered an old woman help to cross the crowded street,
Even if you didn't stop courteously, when in the busy-car fleet?

Ever questioned if we are meant to be meet strangers, just like this,
In the cosmic chaos of life, with social conduct codes amiss?

It's a dog's life ...

I've never had a pet. It's only been a while since I've been comfortable around dogs. But this post has got nothing to do with pets or dogs... if I may help, I think this is about the superiority complex of human beings ! I know we are not simple animals ... but we do have a knack for complicating things !

It's a dog's life... do they say?
When Tuffy enjoys the "jump and play",
When "fetch" isn't a monotonous word...
For greater loyalty that men find absurd.

It's a dog's life... do they say?
When Tuffy has no choices by the day,
When life is at it's simplest best,
And he's peaceful, while men at unrest?

It's a dog's life... do they say?
When Tuffy cries always, when he may,
When his feeling needn't be buried deep,
While men, fake hard for toughness to keep!

It's a dog's life... do they say?
When hunger means food, and cat means prey,
With basics met, are at the bare minimum
While men, falsely showcase prosperity to some!

It's a dog's life... they say...
When Tuffy in his kennel, duty-bound, lay..
By day and by night, asleep, awake,
By cozy bedrooms, for the Responsibility's sake

It's a dog's life... they say...
When Tuffy eats his biscuit array,
When not variety, but survival matters,
While Men dine over choicer platters !

It's a dog's life... they say...
When Tuffy has a heavy price to pay,
A stick not to spoil, forces the good manner,
For "stress" screws loosened, need doggy-spanner!

It's a dog's life... they say...
When Tuffy never stayed away,
But children left and parents cried,
Debts thought paid, and love denied!

It's a dog's life indeed, in a lot of ways,
But our lives reflected in the very phrase !

Friday, November 14, 2008

Life is calling….!!

I looked out of my window
On the tenth floor;
A long day at work
My eyes were sore…

The evening had grown
A shade darker;
Our twin tower and the closest ground
Seemed way too farther…

As I stood gazing at the nothingness
In wonder;
‘What a sterile static landscape’
I happened to murmur…


Just then amidst all darkness
Little starry lights sprang to life
Heaven seemed to have descended
Wearing a star studded gown in style…


Someone somewhere must have
Flipped on the lights in routine
To me it seemed Life had beckoned,
Tickled and outsmarted me!

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

A Tribute to Radio

Especially early Radio City and Radio One's Bangalore channels. Man! Have they been consistent with their special characters or what!

It's been a while since I got my hands dirty,
Spun some verses or held some charcoal and be so arty...
It's the rush of the day that's got me in tangles,
But from happy times around, my spirit still dangles!

I turn on the Radio sometime during the day,
And on comes Chamrajpet Charles with so much to say.
What Child he says, sometimes calls me James,
Tells stories of the tipsy town, puts Suzy to shames!

Sometimes it's Ghanta Singh in his weird histrionics,
Calling real neighbours, adding humour to telephonics.
An old man, with pretty much all the time in hand,
Killing with questions, no one wants to understand.

Comes Professor Ulfat Sultan in his School of Speech,
And the noble thoughts of his to extend English's reach!
Stained with an accent and pained by his wife,
With words thus spoken, he plays his funny fife !

Auto Shankar is not so new to our little town,
But the messages he bring, wear a guiltless gown...
Kudos to the connect with his fans with gentle ease,
And applying the social messages, like a coat of grease...

Whom am I awaiting yet, still tuned in this half hour
None but the flamboyant and iconic Rajani Saar!
"Kannaa..." he says, I imagine a cigarette flipped,
Smile to the face, Ears to the radio, while he quipped.

Cotton Kamakshi and her gentleness highness,
Has an answer to all of her boyfriend's silliness,
A smirk and a laugh, and taunting bouncer,
Ask her a dumb question and get a dumber answer!

Remember Lingo Leela's sessions on the local slanguage?
Sister Stella with love to heal and her reused bandage!
Ungle Appukuttan with his mallu renditions of a Hindi song,
Or Babbar Sher's limerick-al treat for which crowds throng.

Haven't heard Hema Aunty yet, but bet there's promise,
Glad there's all this creativity, without fun amiss!
It's times like this, when I surrender my talents
To the greater Gods of humour and their worthy 2 cents

I'm glad there's a medium that can make me laugh
With my family and friends, or even on their behalf
Thanks to the radio boom in the last half decade
Good to tread a free channel walk with the humour parade!

Sunday, June 01, 2008

Untitled and Confused...

Hasn't been that long, has it ;) ? Writer's blocks could last longer !
So my new project ... this. Meant to create the emotional-shutters effect. "Open shutter"- "Close shutter" -"Open shutter"- "Close shutter" . Not sure if it works for all, but my attempt anyways.
I however simply titled this screen shot "Zebra" !


Monday, March 31, 2008

~ದ್ವಂದ್ವ~

ರೌದ್ರ ತಾಂಡವದ ಭೈರವನಲ್ಲೇ

ಶಾಂತ ಯೋಗಿಯ ತಾಪಸ ಗುಣ...

ಬಂಡೆಯನ್ನೇ ಕರಗಿಸಬಲ್ಲ ದೈತ್ಯ ಅಲೆಗೆ

ಕ್ಷಣಾರ್ಧದಲ್ಲೇ ಹಿಂಜರಿಕೆಯ ಹಿನ್ನೆಡೆಯ ಬಯಕೆ...

ಗುಡುಗು ಸಿಡಿಲುಗಳಿಂದ ಬೆದರಿಸಿ ಅಬ್ಬರಿಸುವ ಆಗಸ

ಕಣ್ಣೀರ ಮಳೆಗರೆದು ಕರಗದೆ?

ದ್ವಂದ್ವ ಎಲ್ಲೆಲ್ಲೂ ಇದೆ...ಶಿವನೇನು ಅಲೆಯೇನು

ನಾನೇನು ನೀವೇನು ಹೊರತೆ?

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Shrieks and Screams

With closed tight fists he hits;
I screech in pain, and he smiles...

He pulls me by my hair;
Tears run down my face, but I do not grimace!

I topple off as he kicks;
I scream in jolts and he hits me more..

The closet pulled down and torn apart;
The shuddering glass.. my neighbours enquire!

I tell them 'I am alright..'
'Its pranks of my little son, not a fight!'

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Wings OR Roots

No explanations given for what inspired these lines ... take this one as a self-assessment :)

Should I be a colourful butterfly,
Or should I bear a bright flower?
Offer the sweet nectar to gratify,
Or cheerfully hover, near and over...

Should be an industrious honey bee,
Or provide a frame for his hive?
Work hard to see my queen in glee,
Or squeeze amber to help her thrive...

Should I be the free-flying sparrow,
Or house her homely cozy nest?
Am I good picking grains and a willow,
Or is my yeilding a branch the best...

Should I choose to find a hollow trunk,
Or be the trunk as a clueless care-taker?
Be jabbed at for a big wooden chunk,
Or harp on wood, tediously as a pecker...

Should I be like nomadic wanderers,
Or stay steady in my given space?
Explore new lands and new waters,
Or layer as rings, with years to trace...

Choices that often leave me betrayed-
Are a platter of meat or a basket of fruits
Thinking like a child, I'm always afraid -
Should I have wings or grow roots?

Sunday, November 04, 2007

Doomed love

Doomed love
-------------

He felt it from the beginning, he had known it from the start,
This wouldn't go anywhere, but would only break his heart,
No matter how much he tried,how much his love was true,
This love was in a dead-end street,from the beginning he knew.

But hope springs eternal, oh what stupid notions !
The courtship started and went through all the motions,
But this would have no fairy tale ending, no happily lived forever,
He wondered why it started, sometimes wished it had never.

How can love flourish, in a world divided by classes,
By race and religion, the opiate of the masses,
How is it ever possible , for two different people to wed,
Rather than see you happy, the world would rather see you dead.

He'd no know more happiness,he'd know no more bliss,
Just memories of his love to treasure and taste of a parting kiss,
He blames himself in the end, the dark clouds always loomed,
Because he knew from the beginning, his love was always doomed.

-Prem

An 8 hour power-cut left me no choice but to write :-) . I've written about something that I've seen happen, unfortunately a little too often.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Incognito...

This poem has been left unnamed in my inability to find a suitable title :).

While most feelings have a name,
There're those that claimed fame,
With no defined ways to express
Leaving you lost and confused... and in a bit of a mess :?

Are you ecstatic, euphoric or blissful,
Blessed, delighted, happy or joyful?
Or intoxicated or exalted or gone !!
When you wear a smile you've never known or worn ?

Felicity, mirth, gladness, glee..
Is that what this emotion could be?
To use the right word might well be an art,
But what do you say when there's a song in your heart ?

A bit buoyant yet downtrodden,
On cloud nine but crestfallen,
Greatly gratified yet melancholic,
Often felt as a duo, making the right word a difficult pick !!

But these feelings are best left abstract than articulate,
As they transpire in the moments of the years you'd await ...
They are a gift of God to the evolving and thoughtful kind,
A way to bridge the differences, from one's own to another mind !

Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Auto man !!

I wrote for a lot of people.... How can I not write for them? These guys take me to around, make me think along the way ... about this thing I have to say

Call this an Ode or call this a satire,
To the three-wheeling community,
Who stir the traffic-al quagmire...
Every new day in Bangalore city.

The first mile costs a mere Ten buck,
But it takes grit to ensure a recount.
For every client is high-muck-a-muck
To be on the deadly auto-man's mount...

Once paid for, they promise you a ride,
A journey through roads less travelled.
But the destination is for him to decide,
However much you may seem hassled...

Sometimes they rate you, by the face,
Seeking their preys, in the morning rush,
You'll be nailed, if, of the High Tech race...
Your pockets barren.. his meadows plush !

It's better to be with him, than around,
It's better to take the rock with the roll...
He'll be behind with nasty horn to sound
If not on the side, edging out of control !

Blaring new songs, boastful of movie stars,
At least a thousand of them can be found,
With jarring noise, and a silencer farce...
How is it hard to break the barrier to sound?

A mouthful of swear-words are his stakes,
All day long in the gambling with his wrists,
Clutching the gear and holding his brakes,
On crazy maneuvers along bends and twists .

And yet he's here, seeking opportunities,
And yet his is an endearing tale to tell,
Of a small town man, bewildered by the cities,
Who's brought along his dreams to sell !

He is a cheat only as much as me,
His is a story only as much as mine ...
He maybe lost in the future we foresee ...
With his departure as a metropolis' sign !

Thursday, June 28, 2007

ಬಳಸಿ - ಉಳಿಸಿ - ಬೆಳೆಸಿ

ಕನ್ನಡ ಬಳಸಿ-ಉಳಿಸಿ
ಅಂತ ಅದೆಷ್ಟು ಚಳುವಳಿ!
ಹಾಗೆ ಸದ್ದು ಮಾಡದೆ ಬಳಸಿ-ಉಳಿಸಿದಷ್ಟೇ
ನಾವು ಬೆಳೆಸಿದ್ದೆಷ್ಟು ನೀವೇ ನೋಡಿ -

School ಇಸ್ಕೂಲ್ಲಾಗಿ,
Master ಮಾಸ್ತರರಾಗಿ,
Fees ಫೀಜಾಗಿ, ತದ್ಭವವಾದ್ದು
ಹಳೆಯ ವಿಷಯ ಬಿಡಿ...

ಆದರೆ ಪೋರಾಪೊಟಾಣಿ,
ಅರ್ಗೆಂಟು - aka ಗೆಂಟು,
ಸೆಪ್-ಸೆಪರೇಟು
ಇವೆಲ್ಲಾ ಏನು ಗೊತ್ತೇನ್ರಿ?

ಇವೆಲ್ಲಾ ಕಬ್ಬಿಣದ ಕಡ್ಲೆ ಇಂಗ್ಲಿಷಿನ
Power-of-attorney, arrogant, separate,
ಇವನ್ನೇ ಬಗ್ಗಿ, ಬಾಗಿಸಿ, ನಾದಿಸಿದಾಗ
ಅರಳಿದ ಕನ್ನಡ ಕುಸುಮ ಕಣ್ರೀ!

ಇನ್ನು ನಮ್ಮ head(ಹೆಡ್ಡು ?) ಮಾಸ್ತರರ ಬಾಯಿಗೆ ಸಿಕ್ಕಿ
machine~mission , apparatus~operators
asterisk~ostrich ಆಗಿದ್ದೆಲ್ಲಾ
ರೂಪಾಂತರವಲ್ಲ ಅವಾಂತರವಷ್ಟೇ ಬಿಡಿ!

Least ಮಾಡ್ತಾ ಹೋದ್ರೆ
ತುಂಬಾ ಇದೆ ಬಿಡಿ
Tame ಇಲ್ಲ ನೋಡಿ; ಇದ್ದಿದ್ರೆ
ಹರಟ ಬಹುದು ಇದೇನು ಮಹಾ ಬಿಡಿ!

Friday, June 22, 2007

The Leela of Sheela ...

This one was written in a bus, on our way back from a team trip, for a colleague of mine (and his imaginary girl friend Sheela)... a little more than 2 years back !! Hope he's found his Sheela now :) !

Make do ...until creativity resurges :)


To the man that I found in you,
I'll tell you a story of Love, Untrue,
It started on the day you were looking at me,
Your piercing eyes just set my spirits free,
And when you walked with your manly stance in my direction,
My heart skipped a beat, in deep fascination,
You pulled out a red rose in that magical moment.
To think of you on your knees, sent my blood into a torrent,
My heart beat grew faster as you came close,
And all of a sudden, Life had a million questions to pose,
When I was in this ecstasy of my dream finally come true,
You walked past me and said, "Sheela, I Love you!"

Little Johnny in Phillie

I wrote this for a friend who went to Philadelphia
Censor Rating - 'A' ... :-)

Little Johnny is in Phillie
Jerking off with his willie
And all he wants to do is get laid
With the colleague,neighbor or the maid

He went to the US giving a bunch of reasons
But actually he wanted to mate in all seasons
And if he doesn't get his way,
I'm afraid he might just turn gay.

That might be a catastrophe for his family and all,
Although he might be just having a ball,
And so I wish him, as I lift up my glass of booze,
And hope somehow his virginity he will loose.

Monday, May 14, 2007

My mother's hands

I wrote this for my mother for mother's day.....

They held me when I was born
Caressed me when I slept
When I cried from night to morn
They wiped my tears as I wept

They played with me as a child,
Holding my fingers,showed me to write
Fought off everything mean and wild
And cradled me through the night

They washed,bathed and clothed me,
And many thousand different things,
And whenever her I used to see,
I wondered why this angel had no wings

They carried me everywhere I went,
Through roads,parks and beach sands,
If you're wondering what 'they' meant,
They're nothing but my mother's beautiful hands

Old and weak they maybe now,
But one think i'm sure most of all
If I ever lose my way or miss my step,
They'll be waiting to catch me as I fall.

Friday, April 06, 2007