Friday, June 25, 2010

White Ants


I didn’t know how I could write
about the plight of a woman
whose FD’s got eaten
by bunch of white ants

She hid them away from the family members
burying it deep inside her wooden cupboard
Not checking for years,
smiling secretly about the travels
she would take when the FDs matured

And when the time came,
she looked deep into her cupboard
and found the white dust
Of FDs with numbers chewed away.

Did the white ants know
the value of money written on the paper?
Did they know it fetched a price?

It powdered the serial numbers in row,
chewing away the dreams of that poor woman

Ah! Someone please arrest that bunch of white ant!!

*FD - Fixed deposits
Inpired to write this poem after I read THIS

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Destiny

A picture posted on the Writer's forum for me to be inspired and write a poem

The photo from the Quatrain City Contest this week was taken at Downtown Disney in Orlando, Florida by Jack Huber


My poem on this picture was

Was this the destiny or you chose to mold into stone?
Hearts that could not hold the moments of love
Crept under the sands of time, and now you stare
Hoping to re-ignite, so that once again you learn to care


Winning entry by Diane Stephenson
Phantasmagoria

In nightmarish dreams, with swollen tongue
I choke on words I cannot speak.
Demented faces swirl but can’t come close
once I awaken from this phantasmagoric world.

And runner-up: Khurshid Alam
Blessing Ceaselessly

Worship to the gods studded in the linoleum.
The sacred murals bless you: they stand guard
against all evils in life and light your ways;
the third eye awakens you to think beyond.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Dad, whom I never knew

At three, you walk away from my life
Abandoned, I leaned on uncles and cousins
Never learning the father’s love

You were not there to see me grow and bloom
They say that dads help in times of gloom
I looked for you in my momma’s love

How I wish you had cared for your health, then
And lived the life with utmost care
I too would have learnt of father’s love
And known what it is to be a papa’s girl.

(c) Pushpee

Friday, June 11, 2010

I am not a Bhopali

I am not a Bhopali
No, not just yet
At 25cents I cannot be that
Deformed body, fractured nose
Crumpled feature with an overdose
of chemical churned out with a flair
using unproven technology
what do you care?
you have nothing worthwhile
with me to share

Thank U for this award

Thank U for this award
It feels good to be appreciated
I could Be A Poet, er..Am I?
I craft words well, in creative and unexpected ways and I have a great talent for evoking beautiful imagery or describing the most intense heartbreak ever I am already naturally a poet, even if I've never written a poem. But I do, I do, I seriously do…

Out of Box

Learning Computers

Learning Computers
Computer books for kids

Learning Mathematics

Learning Mathematics
Worksheets in Maths (set of 24 modules)

My Published Nuggets

My Published Nuggets

n dey read my poem...

   

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Do you love what you read here? Copy, churn, reproduce, share or imitate....knowledge is for sharing....But, do acknowledge me, or better still.... send me a copy....... @Pushpa Moorjani
The Keys to My Heart
I am attracted to those who are unbridled, untrammeled, and free. In love, I feel the most alive when things are straight-forward, and I am told that I am loved. I would be forced to break up with someone who was ruthless, cold-blooded, and sarcastic. My ideal relationship is open. I can talk about everything... no secrets. My risk of cheating is zero. I care about society and morality. I would never break a commitment. In this moment, I think of love as something I thirst for. I'll do anything for love, but I won't fall for it easily.