Nepal Tragedy

The help is on its way
hold on. keep faith.
Doctors will come
your wounds will heal
the food is packed too
we care for you

Mother nature was cruel
without warnings it split its bosom
its anger flung in all directions
lt lost its mind
like wild animal
thoughtlessly spewing wrath
on men, women, child

but you dont lose hope
togather we will built a new world,
Tears cannot bring back what
is lost forever
but something can be revived
and restored
we will try
and bring back smiles
back into your lives

Poetry Challenge Month Day Fourteen Sense Of Ending

‪#‎NaPoWriMo‬ prompt: Sense of ending

Last time I met him
He had packed his bag
His hair still ruffled
A drop of sweat on his neck
He said he needed to go
To be with the nature
To explore the rough hills
To climb the peak
What could I say?

Silently I went in the kitchen
Wrapped chicken sandwich
Just for a day

Take good care of yourself
Do not stress much
Eat proper meals everyday

He didn't seem to care
Was uncomfortable at my stare
With a quick uncomfortable hug
Faltering steps, he was gone
To follow his dream

The news screamed images
Of broken streets
Crumbled houses
Shattered glass panes
Cruel nature sometimes
Has bad temper

Where is he?
Hope he is safe

Hundred thoughts come buzzing
In my mind
I stare blankly at the screen
With silent prayers
Lingering on my lips
I look closely at every dusty face
Some rescued
Some still under debris

Where is he?
Hope he is safe

Too scared to know
I shut my eyes in tight anticipation
With trembling fingers
I send quick message on facebook page

Where are you?
Hope you are safe

No answer

Poetry Challenge Month Day Thirteen IF Only I Could Sleep At Night

If only I could sleep at night

Morning seems far away

The train rattles softly over the rails

Fear engulfs me when I hear soft murmurs

Of strangers, heart skips a beat

Child lets out a loud shrill

His mother fast asleep

Rat scurry on the floor nibbling at food

Dropped carelessly

Silent night, the train has stopped

I look through window, see isolated scene

A hooded man sits with bend head, sips hot coffee

He, like me, cannot sleep

A distant bell, a soft jerk under my seat

The train moves slowly over the tracks

I sit up straight, plug on to my ipad

And float away to distant world

Eyes may droop, attention collapse

Reading might thoughtfully induce sleep

Poetry Challenge Month Day Twelve Mirror On The Wall

‪#‎NaPoWriMo‬

Mirror mirror on the wall
You cannot see the poison in my mind
Nor the solitude of my soul
I live in shade of restlessness
In continuous tempest of my wrath
I died long ago
You only see my mask
And the clay shaping my profile

Poetry Challenge Month Day Eleven Puente Form of Poetry

Puente form of poetry

He lays the foundation stone, then poses for a snap

Near the large plot of land that will be his future home

He distributes sweets to guests, smiling but unaware that

He will never mature although he may, in age, grow old

~He drops the axe at broken earth, and claps his hands~

He runs to hide his face into his mother’s lap

Tears cloud her eyes wrinkles deepen on her face

She runs her fingers through his hair and lets out a deep sigh
“What will happen to my dear child when I am no more”

Poetry Challenge Month Day Ten Don't judge Me

Even when I don't say a word
you judge me
over things I never said

How do you read my mind
when there are no questions in my eyes?

Can you hear my rage over imperfections
of your voice
I want to walk away from you
and sit elsewhere in solitude
But I do not

Because I know it will hurt you
you are not strong
I continue to sit there
and listen
waiting for you to end your twaddle

Had you looked closely 
you would see the tight fist in my lap
ready to strike your lower jaw
just to shut you up

But you see only a faint tight-lipped smile

Even when I don't say a word
you judge me
over things I never said

Poetry Challenge Month Day Nine Incredible Woman

Incredible Woman

How easy is the chore of lady-writer

Who sits bent over her keypad, with a script in her head

She hears not the rain, nor a splash in the puddle

Sees not the droplets slide down the windowpane

She cooks up stories, stirring up her dreams

Mixing soup of fiction, nonfiction to suit the reality

The facts must be researched, nonfiction to be believed

She uncurls from the comfort corner, walks away from her desk

She walks through living room, picking up mess

Peeps into kitchen, to check if family is fed.

A hole in the socks, a broken heel

Clueless about being shoeless

She meets real people on the streets

There are strangers, women, children, often, dirty ole men

Who stare at her breast and try holding her hand

She keeps her mind focused, her posture erect

Her fingers cupped over sharp knife placed inside her bag

A smile stretched over her beautiful face

She collects untold stories with hidden facts

Five years of research, sometimes ten,

Like God, she puffs life into her characters, makes them wise

She makes them breathe, they begin to talk

A new world is created behind her scripted task

Her own world forgotten, her soul kept on hold

A faded shout from somewhere dark

She can hear no more

Incredible woman of substance

Has many duties to perform

But she does it with a knack

Always comfortable in her own zone

Poetry Writing Month…day eight When Hungry Eat

‪#‎NaPoWriMo‬

When Hungry Eat

I was not hungry
but I saw butter cookies
round and brown
staring at me
from the cabinet an hour ago
I had forgotten about it

When did I buy it?
I think it was a month ago
or maybe two

Supermarket is an evil place
transports me to spending spree
makes me buy things
I don't really need
savories that I may never eat
they look handsome on the grocery shelf
attractive packing
seductive snaps
They will look artistic on my kitchen cabinet

Perhaps I will consume this time
maybe I should nibble on it
maybe I will have visitors
Maybe I will hear
a kid in my neighborhood cry

Whatever the reason
simple or complicated
credit card swiped
butter cookies come home
stored away into my kitchen cabinet
out of sight

Till I discover them once again
at odd hours
a cursory glance, a surprise pop up
while i was looking for something else

Sometimes when hungry
I do eat
crumbly cookies on impulse
relishing its sweetness
in the middle of the night.

Poetry Challenge Month day Seven Backyard of your heart

Give me a place in the backyard of your heart
Will open a small kiosk
to sell stories of long forgotten passion
my heart is spear eagled against my ribs, fettered
grows like inferno in my soul

Give me a place in the backyard of your heart
Will clear up your illusions about love
to bring clarity to your mind
only the hand held mirror can reflect
the filth beyond the naked eye

Give me a place in the backyard of your heart
Will shine up your desires
and pump colorful life into it.
what would you care for cup of spirits
If you have living winds of ecstasy

You have been too cold of late
Sunken eyes, depressed
Like a caged bird without wings
Soar up in sky, feel the wind
open the backyard of your heart
you need to let me curl up to you
drown away your nightmare blues
there is gust of different breeze
that will bring warmth back into our life

Poetry Challenge Month Day Six Deep in the Woods

Lost in the woods
in the midst of scholars
each armed with strong verse
of happy times or sad
they play with words
over the bon fire
with hilarious games of letters
I wander off deep in the woods
looking for phrase
amongst fallen leaves
a strong emotion
or a song
that I can bring back
and pass the time

Poetry Month Challenge - Day five Hidden Camera

Hidden camera on the wall
Recorded stripped beauties during this fall
Came lady minister, made a call
Boycotted Fashion store from the mall
Now (in prison) they will eat just rice and Dal.

Poetry Month Challenge Day Four Carnival

Carnival

In the town square

In the midst of dancing crowd

Lovers dressed in fancy gowns

One lone woman, frail and bent

Dressed in black

Shoes browned

Unmindful of loud drum everywhere

She swung, tangoed on her toes

Round and round

A string of holy beads swayed

Between her bony fingers

Thoughts lost in distant land

Eyes closed, serene and proud

She danced alone in nirvana bout

Nobody saw her invisible clown

#NaPoWriMo

Poetry Month Challenge Day Three Femme Fatale

Not a femme fatale

But just someone

Infinitively compassionate

Blindingly bright

Continue to shine

on cold starless night

Capable and real

Genuinely wise

Tell me no secrets

Show me no vice

Don’t go meandering

Seeking wrong advice

I have a defense card

With a poison on its edge

Hidden beneath the long coat of ribs

Ready to strike

Not a femme fatale

Just someone

Ruled by my mind

#NaPoWriMo #3