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change_by_words 39w

Two days of relationship and your calling him your pillar of strength can you let the cement dry at least.

©change_by_words

8 2
change_by_words 40w

The difference between
a garden and a graveyard
is only what you choose
to put in the ground

©change_by_words

13 2
change_by_words 59w

The worst thing you have given to me is
I have changed from an "extrovert" to an "Introvert "

©change_by_words

17 1 1
change_by_words 60w

Reason 3.

Because I have my mother who remained me its 10 am and I have to wake up

©change_by_words

6 0

raghavendran 77w

Waiting for the Beloved

This poem is an outpouring of a young wife whose husband had to go out to earn his livelihood and who had promised to return by monsoon.

Waiting for the Beloved

The sky is dark and threatening,
I find it awfully frightening,
It is now the season of monsoon
Will you not return to me soon?

I see the lightning brightening the sky,
Its brilliance makes me close my eye,
It is now the season of monsoon,
O! I wish you were with me anon.

You have long been away,
To you I have so much to say,
Where are you, my sweetheart?
It is unfair for us to be apart.

I dread the evenings and the nights
Me, the very mention of them frights,
I twist and turn on the bed,
And get up in the morn with eyes red.

You left me a long while ago
Time has become my foe,
My unyielding heart calls your name
And I am unable my heart to tame.

Unknown to me I whimper and weep
In the middle of my sleep
When my eager arms seek you
On the bed meant for us two.

My mirror is coated with dust,
It has enjoyed a long rest
I don't remember when I stood before it
It seems eons to me, to wit.

You promised to return by monsoon
To pangs of separation I am not immune,
It is now the season of monsoon,
Oh! Will you not come soon?

I see the birds billing and cooing
And relentlessly each other wooing,
I curse my feet for being alone,
You have left me to moan.

I hear the laughter of couples
Which me endlessly troubles,
Laughter has escaped from me
Don't you want me happy to be?

O! what is keeping you from me?
Loneliness is a curse, don't you agree?
O! Fly back to me anon and soon,
You know it is the season of monsoon.

For whom should I deck out
With flowers and walk about
Except for you, my dear,
You seem to have forgotten, I fear.

It is now raining everywhere,
There is a nip in monsoon air,
Oh! How lovely would it be
If you were to be close by me.

Alas! I grieve it is not so,
I am in spirits very low,
Will you not rush to me soon?
It is the season of monsoon.

Oh, dear! Tarry not any more,
I await the familiar knock at the door,
Come soon, O! come very soon,
It is the season of monsoon.

Raghav R
04.01.2021
©raghavendran

51 36 23
raghavendran 61w

Beware of Friendship Request

Numerous instances of young girls victimised and blackmailed by callous people have been reported in the dailies. Such pathetic incidents have prompted this poem to be written.

Here however I have presented a girl who has seen through the trickery of the friendship-seeker and who has escaped the unpleasant consequences of indiscretion by her sensible approach, thereby setting an example for others how to be cautious and vigilant.

Beware of Friendship Request.

"You surely look gorgeous and great,
I would love you to be my mate,
Please acquiese to be my friend,
My feelings are true and I don't pretend.

Your photo displayed in your profile
And your ideals conveyed in style
Have set my heart aflutter,
A companion like you is what I am after.

Will you, O! will you be my friend?
Your hand of friendship, please do extend,
We will together explore the universe,
To my suggestion, please don't be averse."

Thus wrote a youth of twenty
With romantic ideas aplenty,
To a young lass still in her teens,
With the photo of him in fashionable jeans.

The overzealous request the girl read
And accepted it, but not going overboard
With his ideas, surfeit with extravagance
Or thoughts conveyed in wordy brilliance.

They became friends soon after
Exchanging their ideas thereafter,
Many months were thus spent
And they seemed happy hundred percent.

One day however turned very different,
For she deemed his request an affront,
Not being naive, she put herself on guard
After realising he was certainly a fraud.

His suggestion numbed her to the core
And his audacity shocked her the more,
She decided at once to end the friendship
Vowing never to have any relationship.

She wrote back:

'O, Heavens! You're unfit to be a friend,
So I, our friendship, at once end,
A wolf in sheep's garb you are
From you, it is better to be afar.

Aren't you ashamed to defile me-
The one who wanted your friend to be?
You've my modesty shamelessly outraged
And by such naked suggestion left me enraged.

Desist from such overtures henceforth,
We can never be friends both,
Forget that we were friends once,
I cannot forgive your henious offence"

She ended the friendship thus
and the reason for ending the
friendship was prompted by his
request which he clothed in a
fanciful verse shown hereunder.

*"You look gorgeous with all your robes on,
But I love to see you with all your robes gone,*
Would you not fulfill my earnest desire
By posting your figure without any attire?

Will it not prove our close intimacy?
None has a right to question the legitimacy
For are we not intimate friends
And how can we buck the modern trends?"

*************************

Note: *..* The two sentences of mine imprisoned within the asterisks have been influenced by the following lines from the poem without any title, written under the subscription "Anon" .

Extracted from Page 69 of the book "The Golden Treasury".

"No beauty she does miss
When all her robes are on:
But Beauty's self she is
When all her robes are gone"
Anon

****************************
Raghav R
26.04.2021
©raghavendran

88 65 36
raghavendran 61w

A Covid Patient's Prayer

Writersnetwork. Thanks for the repost.

Now is not the time to die,
Friends and relatives will only cry
Not knowing when or where to cremate
The dead, cursing the cruel fate.

Quarantined in a room with symptoms mild,
I am like a caged animal of the wild,
I suffer the pangs of isolation
And experience the pains of desolation.

My people suffer as much as I do,
Left with absolutely no clue
What to do if I give up my ghost,
Except running from pillar to post.

So Lord! let me live at best
Till Covid19 is laid to rest,
Let me go thereafter in peace,
Leaving others at total ease.

Raghav R
30.4.2021
©raghavendran

246 83 62
raghavendran 73w

Superstitions

Writersnetwork. Thanks for reposting the poem. I feel truly honoured.

Superstitions

Superstitions have had mankind bound
In a grip, vice-like and sound;
Every culture has its own,
With succeeding generations, it’s only grown.

A lizard is an unwelcome guest,
So everyone considers it best
To keep lizards miles away
And escape their pernicious sway.

But lizards always find refuge
In a house under some subterfuge;
They surface when no one is around,
For they don’t want to be found.

One fine day, a lizard was crawling
On the tall white ceiling,
Becoming a bit whimsical let himself fall
On the man answering a phone call.

He fell right on the man’s head
Which meant the man would be dead;
He rushed into the nearest room
To face the impending doom.

Nightlong he shivered with dread
Patting with tremulous hand his head
Upon which the dreaded lizard fell
Reminding him repeatedly of the passing bell.

Next morn found him very much alive,
With energy, strength and drive;
He walked into the hall, with hand on his head,
Only to find the lizard totally dead.

Raghav R
31.01.2021
©raghavendran

186 62 49
raghavendran 70w

You'll Never Be Old Again

You’ll Never Be Old Again

Are you feeling bored and dull?
Then sit for a while and mull
Why you have become so,
You’ve let the child in you go!

Are you past sixty or seventy
Or perhaps more, say eighty?
Let not your age matter
Or if your physique is not better.

View the world with a child’s eye,
Your despondency will be a far cry;
Feel everything with a child’s heart,
Try this attitude for a start.

The world will look fresh and new
And present itself in a delightful hue;
Full of joy will your life be,
Your days one of mirth and glee.

Let the child in you be born again,
You’ll only gain in the bargain;
Your life will never be weary
Nor your live-long days dreary.

Raghav R
23.02.2031
©raghavendran

114 46 29
yoyowrites_ 80w

#mirakee #nostalgia #home

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Home

As I was sitting by the window last night,
fragrance of magnolias brushed past my nose
And it reminded me of the time I left home.
Hugs of my parents, so warmly I felt,
Those tears that I held back
just to break down in my seat
Seeing the sad smiles on their quivered lips
Telling me I'm always welcome to come home.

But I was traveling miles away
A place where my parents' shadow hadn't laid
Searching for a future, a home I can call my own
I wondered then if life was supposed to be that way-
Why let us meet just to let go?
I wished I had stayed longer,
Ditched my education for a day more.

10 years had snapped, I am still the same
I'm much older now and have learned thousand grains
I still struggle with jobs that would meet my passion,
Could not feel more ashamed of my present self
But I know I'll be fine on my own
And I remember the times I enjoyed back home.
The sky still remains the same like it was back then
A home that used to be six now turns five
But remained the warmest place
I could not forget.

©yoyowrites_

49 2 9
ariachez 80w

one thing
i never write about
is the flowers
you left
everyday
on my doorstep,

they don't smell
of love,
i even thought
it should, at least,
smell like apologies
but they dont,

they smell of revenge
in the sweetest way possible,
the kind that hurts
the nose
but you can't complain,
for it's a personal attack
that affects
only to whom
it is intended
to be given,

they smell of guilt
that cling to your shirt,
the smell
that makes you want
to burn the clothes
even before
you take them off,
the reminder
you never want
to be reminded of,
that you taught
someone to grieve
and forgot to teach
how to move on,

they smell
of confusion,
that everyday
i am tempted
to look back
to see
if i come out
of tombstone
instead of door.

©ariachez
dec182020

Read More

.....

164 17 55
neha_sultanpuri 80w

तेरे ख़्वाबों के हक़दार भी कहाँ हम...

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तुझे तसव्वुर में भी अपना बना लेने के
कहाँ क़ाबिल हम
तू आफ़ताब है इस दयार का
और किसी खंडहर के चराग़ से हम
तुझे तसव्वुर में भी अपना बना लेने के
कहाँ क़ाबिल हम
©neha_sultanpuri

75 18 26
d_prexa 80w

"The pale stars were sliding into their places. The whispering of the leaves was almost hushed. All about them it was still and shadowy and sweet. It was that wonderful moment when, for lack of a visible horizon, the not yet darkened world seems infinitely greater—a moment when anything can happen, anything be believed in."

- Olivia Howard Dunbar, The Shell of Sense.

#dusk #poetry #life #poem #remnants #mirakee #pod
@mirakee @shren_jo_

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A palmful of a day

Come out and see
Some three fields to the west
Someone is pouring night
Over the golden haze of the bundled husks
The night falls, drop by drop,
Into the rivulets and brooks
As they rise, swell and weave
To wash the cracked heels of the elderly woman
Hunching over herself, sitting outside the threshold of her darkening hut
Her eyes white and clouded with age
Quickly glance at the firmament to see
If it is the hour of the lord whose name
She mumbles some hundred times and eight
Her rosary is a faded brown now
Much like the smoke that swirls out of an ugly duct
In the distance on the pinkening horizon
The night is falling quickly
I raise my palm as I watch it fall across the world
A dream of catching the remains of a day
I spent in ways I now regret
If I clutch a little tightly, the corners of this passing time,
Maybe the dawn will come a little later
So what if I let go of the day
I still have the night, into which I go
Slowly but surely with my arms full of dreams
I drag my feet into a sleep that takes me over
Into tomorrow, yet is it wrong
To just stand there and wish the night didn't come
And that the sunset may last for, say, an eternity?

©Prexa

95 8 26