Long Time No See No Joy On This Street

Long time no see that kid called Sam
Missed, are cheeks dimpled and thick brown hair

Here was his home of beautiful brownstones
Lined with hedges of green and purple tones

The lively curvy lanes, till the end of this street
Had Sam and his friends happily share their dreams

From dawn to dusk, they passed their time
Running, sprinting behind fluttering butterflies

Sam´s favourite spot, hidden beneath that Banyan tree
Where he would people-watch, cross-legged, relaxed

Smiling and twinkling stars humoured him a lot
Till the day, he heard a loud, shattering blast

Two men on bike dropped a lethal plastic purse
Sam went shouting,¨Uncle, come back! You have left your pouch.¨

Stunned, he was, by the bright light in his eyes
His skull and his muscles, crumbled and sliced

His limbs went flying over that Banyan tree
Fleshy mince crowned hedges like inflated beads

Lively, curvy lanes were charred, completely browned
Friends of Sam were nowhere to be found.

Long time no see no soul on this street
Just a quivering blind woman under that Banyan tree

She caresses the shredded, soiled shirt of Sam
That had covered comforting shoulders and lent her a hand

Long time no see no peace on this street
Just a blanket of red blood and deserted beneath

Long time no see no smile on any face
Just helpless innocent brothers killed by
Cruel, irrational and the disgraced

Dating is not for me

I would love to meet you
But I am afraid
Of your rejection
Or your stares
Or your surprises
You might discover
When you see me
That
I do not qualify the
Image in your mind

It is not my fault
If you drew the picture of me
In your soul
Reading my thoughts
My opinions
My words
From your virtual sight

I never said
I am pretty
Rich
Influential
Nor did I ever
Discuss my age
You adored my rambling
My wit
My style
Imagining a God
With feminine delight

Damn you
And your desires
To see the skeleton of me
I truly cannot match
The fabric
Nor colours
Nor nirvana
Of your wayward mind

I want to be away from
Your binary wildest dreams
You sit at your own desk
And I will, at mine
We can still drink coffee
And chat online
We can carve out poetry
From my lines

But let me be me
My true me and me
I truly cannot meet you,
This evening
Offline

Dreaming on my soft bed

Each night I remind myself to watch my dreams carefully, but each morning, they just float away from my stream of thoughts. There are good dream and bad dreams but I can’t remember them at all, just a new day with clean slate waiting for a new paint stroke. I feel refreshed and cheerful as I walk away from my soft bed.

There are dreams of the adventures that I am physically too weak to take. There is surfing on high seas, there is Para-gliding under strong winds, I climb huge mountains, trekking through the rough roads. Up in the mountains I try balancing act and suddenly the cord snaps and I fall down on my soft bed

Sometimes I party crash into the Bollywood world; I drink the free booze and gulp the food with smile. A director finds me attractive and invites me to casting couch, ten large hands grope my body and I perspire, I shout and squirm and cry for help, and then I am relieved when I find myself in my soft bed

Then there are dreams of my loved one, whom I have not met for long, some are lost and some are just, forever gone. They visit me in my dreams and we share a song. There is laughter, cheers, joys, happiness and peace and I wake up in the morning with the smile in my eyes, saving my dreams under pillows of my soft bed

I have seen my grandfather’s dentures, up on sale, all the ladies in my society have long, curly nails, and there is a man in his underwear talking to his roses, saying a tearful goodbye to his broken weeds. The smell of daffodils creeps into my dream, when I open my eyes, I see flowers beside my soft bed.

I remove the parasitic nodes and other junk from my mind, making connections in a safe place from this worldly grind, although some complete the patterns of emotional expectations and some do lower my awful stress, but I am disassociated from my conscious state, lying still and breathing evenly in my soft bed.

I have sought meaning in dreams or divination through dreams. Dreams have history, both as a subject of conjecture and as a source of inspiration. It is physiologically a response to a neural process, psychologically, it is a reflection of the subconscious, but spiritually, I feel my Lord’s presence on my soft bed

I have a déjà vu when my dream escapes, to show me the familiarity of the people I have never ever met, mysteriously reminding me of the situation or place, that in my sub conscious mind I had it suppressed. I am planning to pre- program my next beauty sleep, and hoping to remember from start to the end, I will watch it carefully, forward and rewind and will memorize my dreams on my soft bed.

Jai Ganesha!

In a long queue for a glimpse
Of Great Lord Ganesha,
There are thousands of people
Surrounding me
The positive vibrations and
Quest for blessing
Is making all people
Pray silently.

Godawful poems 29

A final entry on this last day with Acrostic, and Haiku

Gosh! During the last fort night
Oh my! I have blogged bad verse
Darn! In a real contest
Actually, I dare not invest
With this godawful
Fortnight, I could easily test
Untrue or topical or
Latest news
For you, it might be jest
Oh! But if you visit my blog
Really, you must, I suggest
Newer are my views
In twenty eight best
Green Poems that were
Highly awful test
Truly I warn that you cannot detest

***********
Really speaking
It was fun reading all awful
Poems, now Rest In Peace


Godawful Poetry Fortnight

Godawful Poetry - 28

Godawful Poetry Fortnight - 19th - 31st August

# 28

Aah! That Godawfool fortnight

During this godawfool fortnight
I have sat under this godawful torchlight
Eating this godawful Samosa
That I normally have at every godawfool meet-aah
With that godawful alcohol
That is served with those godawful cola
After those godawfool burbs
I head towards those godawfool suburbs
I had gone there in that godawful train
And was stuck in that godawful rain
I would go there every godawful season
Even though I had no godawfool reason
During one of those godawfool trips
I had almost lost my godawful grips
I wore that godawful toupee
And went for that godawfool endoscopy
I thought I was godawful clever
Until I met more godawfool braver
He was there on that godawful blog
Blogging about his godawfool dog
Thats when I developed that godawful rash
And I had to make quick godawful dash
Even though it looked like godawful zit
This is no godawfool tit
I stopped caring about that godawful license
I didn’t want to be under any godawfool influence
I would have landed in that godawfool hell
Had I not rung that timely godawful bell
Surrounded by those so many godawfool grinners
I elected myself as godawfool winner
Cause, though all were godawfool dummy
I guess, mine´s was most godawfool funny

Godawful Poetry Fortnight

Godawful Poetry Fortnight - 27

Godawful Poetry Fortnight - 19th - 31st August

Learn to speak Minglish Bai
# 27

Why don’t you just speak Minglish, Bai
And change your shop hoardings and keep quiet
Just leave the bakwas there and take your side

Can’t you see the borders of my suburb line
Which is extended up to Dharavi height
Why don’t you just speak Minglish Bai

If you cannot learn from lengua guide
Then keep a tutor who is bright
Just leave the bakwas there and take your side

You say it´ s the lifestyles of Bandra you like
Then people of Bandra for you will be delight
Why don’t you just speak Minglish Bai

You will be deported if you strike
Or if you identify global logos/brands by their lights
Just leave the bakwas there and take your side

Khar, Andheri, Chinchpokli, Vikroli, Kurla, Sanpada
They all are boring and completely outside,
Why don’t you just speak Minglish Bai
Just leave the bakwas there and take your side

Godawful Poetry Fortnight

Godawful Poetry - 26

Godawful Poetry Fortnight - 19th - 31st August

#26

Face Book
I agree, I am logging night and day on this facebook
So what? You don’t have to pay if I am on this facebook

What goes of yours if I see my friends and
Bhai logs´ fotoos everyday on this facebook

I will even send them haftas and suparis with coupons
That normally fade away on this facebook

Sometimes I am reading and writing for them notes and
Merrily joking away on this facebook

I will poke them; give them pyar ki japki, I will nudge them
Even if I have nothing to say on this facebook

Scrabble, Rummy, Matka and quiz
Oh! The many more games that we play on this facebook

With such good pastime pushpee is thrilled
And you better Gap Bas on this facebook

Samja kya?



Godawful Poetry Fortnight

Er.....Hi

We see, you and I
Through this private eye
Being no more shy
Under this new dye

Technorati Profile

Nursery Rhymes

Godawful Poetry Fortnight - 19th - 31st August

#23

Little fat Ganpat
Was learning Marathi alphabets
Mixing his ayes with kays
There came a Mumbai manoos
Near him, he did ghoos, ghoos
Gave him jhadka and told him
He was gay

# 24

Santa, Banta
Went to Delhi
To meet Mona Ghandhi
She couldn’t explain to them
The rules of RTI
Instead served them
Italian macaroni
La la la la la la la
Mona, Sona, all so funney

# 25

Jack and Hill
Went up the hill
To meet George Khush
And Clinton Mill
But they met Osama
He thought it was fantasma
And Jill broke silence with
Her loud laughter

Godawful Poetry Fortnight

Baby!

Godawful Poetry Fortnight - 19th - 31st August


# 22

I saw your post on forum today
I think I understand how you mean to play
There is something in the words you say
It changes the curvatures of my face

And it took time for me to know
What you tried to write so hard to show
It’s those silly phrases that you used
They changed all the gears of my face

After Google searching high and low
It finally hit my belt below
The cliché that you have used
Makes me kneel down on the floor

Baby,
Why do you write so?
Why do you rhyme so?
You know you have no talent
Why do you have to put up such show?

Baby
Don’t torture me like this
Don’t behave like Krish
I can do without your love poems
If only you could know

Godawful Poetry Fortnight

My Awful Dog

Godawful Poetry Fortnight - 19th - 31st August

#21


I am under self imposed curfew, my right hand is dressed
In pure white, tight garment and I am too depressed
I wave my hand to my dog, but he too, is not impressed
I tell him, it´s a beef bone, he says, but it´s not even fresh
Anyways, he is too full, having eaten a chicken breast
Now, too sleepy and not in mood to hear my sickly jest
If I trouble him too much, he might become a perfect pest
Then his barking will continue until I lose my fixed address
The neighbours might sue me for stealing their beauty rest
They will accuse me blindly and invent reasons to harass
I will not be able to pacify them even if I stoop to caress
The law suit will go on for years and make me very aggress
sive

Godawful Poetry Fortnight

Beijing Olympics 2008

Godawful Poetry Fortnight - 19th - 31st August

# 20


Beijing Olympics are over, everybody is back home
Some with silver, some with gold
Some are back with memories to be told
Of various ceremonies that were performed on the poles

Nobody complained of human rights
They clapped for performers, who were dressed in lights
Everybody was blogging about those spectacular sights
While jealous people around the world called this a ´blight´

Visitors and sportsmen were in happy mood
Every half an hour they gulped Chow Chow food
Shaking their head, they said ´it was good´
Had nickname for every loser, it was ´hey Dude!´

Now Chinese are all lonely men
Twiddling their thumbs in their darkly den
Have not enough money to even buy a pen
Wasted it all on a golden hen

Godawful Poetry Fortnight

Troll

Godawful Poetry Fortnight - 19th - 31st August

# 19

You put a right foot in, you put a right hand out
Then you chop a naughty troll who shows his head around
You go the boogey, doggey, then swirl the troll down
And then bury him under the ground

Godawful Poetry Fortnight

hai wu

Godawful Poetry Fortnight - 19th - 31st August


# 11

Irresponsible lass
Puffing away her hard earned cash
On a cloud of black mess

#12

Stingy Paul
Won’t spend no penny nor a dime
Eating steamed rice with a stale lime

#13

Said one chair to another
Chair
Here comes bum with a sexy flair

#14

Elephant had difficulty
Finding a wife, he needed a surgery
Of his dental spike

#15

Red hot cigarettes,
Drugs and pipes
Friends of short lived Johns and Mike


#16

Pregnant Susan went by bus
To get herself operated
She got stuck in a traffic jam
And found herself stranded

#17

I am in bliss
I just had a miss
Of fowl breathed kiss

#18

Shaft is bent, hands so sweaty
Whacked like a sucker, I can hardly walk
To be desired, a follow-through leaves a lot
Hold on, I need to wash my balls
And put them back into this golf bag

Godawful Poetry Fortnight

I dont need you

Godawful Poetry Fortnight - 19th - 31st August

# 10

dont stare at me with those silly eyes
time to say to you my good byes
i dont wish to keep with you any ties
you have told me too many of your lies
lately I have seen you with too many guys
sitting on their lap or sleeping on their thighs
pouting and breathing with all those sighs
hiding behind those colourful hair dyes
sometimes in your group of fives
drinking and swearing under those spell of highs
I would rather prefer that simple girl who is chi
nese

Godawful Poetry Fortnight

Hike who

Godawful Poetry Fortnight - 19th - 31st August

# 9

Stains of poetry
leaking through those broken hearts
lovers suicide


Godawful Poetry Fortnight

Que Sera, Sera

Godawful Poetry Fortnight - 19th - 31st August

# 8

On a warm and sunny day
I asked BMC officer on my way
Will we see cleaner streets
Will you clear off the plastic sheets
Is this what he said to me
Que sera sera, whatever will be, will be
Your problems is not ours to see, que sera sera,
Whatever can be, will see.

Last week at Bandra East
For stamp duty paper, I had met some cheats
Everybody was rushing
Shouting and crushing
Then one peon said to me
Pude challa, challa, gardhi nakko, saheb ghari gella
Forms are finished now we have no more
Atta tu pan ghari challa, challa

Now that Bhindhra has won a gold
All the sportsmen have become quite bold
Everybody is practicing
Endorsing or bribing
Believing that even they can win
Pappu, Mona, Sona, chonna, you too can join in, Lolla
Their tutors and their offspring’s too, come on fella, fella
No harm in trying, Salla.

Godawful Poetry Fortnight

Skywalks of Mumbai

Godawful Poetry Fortnight - 19th - 31st August

#7


There is a budget set aside of six hundred crores
For Mumbai skywalkers who are normally bores
Now they will jog to work freely in and out of city
On long blue skywalks without any self pity

The first one at Bandra that was inaugurated the other day
Was used by ‘Queer Qaadis’ who call themselves Gay
They inspected the bridge to see if it was strong
Their precious decisions are normally never wrong

It is good place for marching, there is no vehicular traffic
You can walk freely, carelessly, without the horns of autoricks
The elevated walkway framed structure with Polycarbonate Sheets
Are great escape from heavy rains during such ‘Queer’ meets

There are seating arrangements, steel railings and powerful lights
Comfortably they can scream and shout for their rights
The skywalks have escalators, landscaping, and garbage bins,
When tired from too much shouting, they can share cold beer tins

There is enough space to accommodate the road side hawkers.
Mumbaikars might enjoy even the live shows by rockers
It is great fun to be in the city that has so much to give
Non resident Mumbaikars are most welcomed here to live.

Godawful Poetry Fortnight

Some more on clerihew

Godawful Poetry Fortnight - 19th - 31st August

Some more on clerihew, a short humorous biographical poem


# 3

Sharukh Khan
What do you want?
Gauri, Saif or Kantaben
Whom do you prefer again and again?

# 4

Shobha De
Has a mind of clay
With filmy gossip and idle chat
She shocked George Bush that poor chap!

# 5

Ambhani Mukesh
Went to Rishikhesh
Bought lots of sadhus with his stinking money
And learnt their craft, now that was not funny

# 6

Ekta Kapoor
Was on a world tour
She packed her bags with letters ‘kay’
And watched her own serials every day!

Godawful Poetry Fortnight