nineteen till i die » Poetry

The delight, this life

zephyr19 — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 03:50:09 +0000

The path I take, the path I make, The dreams I chase, the sky I gaze, The mysteries I solve, the way I evolve, The fun, the spirit, the delight, this life ! No related posts. Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin. No related posts. Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.

Exam Time

Pawan — Wed, 03 May 2006 13:41:00 +0000

When my blogging frequency falls below once a week
When lots of things to blog and things to mug up cause memory to leak
When the Zephyr’s blog has to see a decline in its charms
Thats what happens when he has to study for his end sem exams…

Ya.. as another semester draws to a close
And I do not want my nice verse to become a prose
Its my books which I get to seek
And say good bye till next week

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A poem I wrote last year on Tsunami

Pawan — Tue, 27 Dec 2005 20:40:00 +0000

Something somewhere was awfully wrong…

Neither sweet, nor sour
It was bitter all the more.
More than a devil’s curse,
Oh God! could it have been worse?

The previous day was a different one,
No other Christmas was so much fun.
Nothing, nowhere seemed to be wrong,
Celebrations all day long.

Fun and frolic everywhere,
With the city up in top gear.
Churches were the place to be,
Nothing was more charming to see.

It was beyond the midnight beep,
That the city happily went to sleep.
Could it have been anyone’s foresight?
That he’d not see the morning light!

Suddenly and shockingly, the horrendous waves
Appeared from the calm, turning cozy beds into graves.
The early rising fishermen, however, were on the shores,
To be driven away, out of their life’s doors.

For several minutes, the waves did last,
And left a few live faces, aghast.
Debris, corpses everywhere,
Humans turned into earthenware.

Debris, corpses everywhere,
Mother Nature! Is this the way you care?
Is that how you sing the Christmas Carol,
Firing silent bullets through an invisible barrel?

Life has come to a standstill,
Mother Nature, satisfied? Or still someone left to kill?
You danced to your tune before it was long,
Yes! something somewhere was awfully wrong.

A great damage, a huge loss,
Everything did break, except the Jesus cross.
A question comes to my mind, I’m keen
Was it something Scrooge’s third ghost could have foreseen?

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