'I'

                             

   'I'

'I' is unquestionably the most important word in the world,
Costlier than platinum, and prettier than the glittering gold!
'I' is ever young, lively, kind, just, noble, virtuous and right,
'I' is undoubtedly an abode of eternal joy and heavenly delight!

Who has ever seen 'I' to be objectionably in fault?
Who has ever relished more delicious delicacy without adding 'I' Salt?
Who has ever witnessed 'I' committing any culpable crime?
Who will deny? "Nothing else on earth is as unique as 'I' and prime!"

The indomitable 'I' was reigning in the past; 'I' is ruling at present,
And 'I's regime will continue in the future that is so imminent!

Without this inevitable 'I' even the Almighty's plan seems sordid and dull,

Thus, 'I' alone is behind all greatness, that is negligibly tiny or enviably tall!

Who else commands more respect than 'I'; whom else you more trust?
Do honestly disclose please, what else other than 'I' comes in your life first?

Copyright: Shankar D Mishra 29.06.2018
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A TRIBUTE TO SACHIN TENDULKAR

BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO SACHIN TENDULKAR!

Oh! When the fiery and flawless Sachin was on the confident and dauntless crease,
Runs would rain ceaselessly as blows the sweet, swift and unstoppable breeze!
His immaculate and rocketing shots would million fans, across the globe, please,
While, alas! The chocked heartbeats of the battered bowlers would painfully freeze!

Unarguably, matches would ever seem pretty well in India’s favour,
As long as Sachin’s patient, valiant and unfailing bat did majestically deliver!
Towering sixes, lightning fours, along with quick singles and twos,
Would constantly trickle in, worsening the rivals' woes, once the balls were loose!

Alan Donald, Mac Grath, Courtney Walsh, Chaminda Vass, Wasim Akram or Brett Lee,
Could so effortlessly and fiercely cut, flick pull, hook haul and manoeuvre he!
He would often cease the engine of  the fastest and the fiercest Rawalpindi Express,
And, force Shane Warne for ghastly nightmares, who did once honestly confess!

At 16, in a 20-over exhibition match, he faced Pak stylish leg spinner Abdul Quadir,
In which his fastest unofficial fifty lashed, thrashed and pushed the latter to nadir!
He too stunned so many brilliant batsmen with his unintelligible spinning balls,
And, by scoring 34,357 runs in International cricket, he engraved his golden name in the Fame of Halls!

He is the lone Centurion of the Herculean as well as the Himalayan Centuries;
The world salutes him for his rarest humility and matchless cricketing qualities!

Copy Right: Shankar D Mishra: 10/12/2016

SOME TIPS TO AN IDEAL TEACHER

SOME TIPS TO BE AN IDEAL TEACHER

Yeah, education is a illuminating garden of enlightenment
Where grow the student saplings into full-fledged human tress
Being nourished, cherished and guided by the teacher gardeners ardent
Who instill knowledge sustenance, basic human values into them breeze.

A true teacher is he who like an efficient physician
Detects the grasping, assimilating periphery of the pupils
Renouncing his/her ego climbs down to their levels of perception
Like the bounteous Nature dispels doubts, requirements fulfills.

A teacher’s solemn duty is to energize, invigorate and elevate
The students to the apex by sharing his hard hoarded acquisition,
Transform an average student to one resplendently bright
And a bright learner to a brilliant one by selfless inculcation.

Mustering mastery over own subject, maintaining self discipline
A teacher can surely be ideal, unique and indubitably divine.

Copy Right: Shankar d Mishra: 11.12.2016

ROADS

ROADS

Roads are normally meant for destinations:
They take you through under varied recognitions,
Concrete roadways for pedestrians as well as vehicles
Waterways for sailors and boats, launches and gigantic ships
Railways for commuters, freights, posts and costly articles
Airways for the swiftest, urgent, most expensive and coziest trips!

There are other invisible roads too:
Some start with pleasures but end up with sorrows
Some are spurious and lead towards the gallows;
There’s still a unique path- tough, bitter and trodden by a few
That leads all towards solace, ecstasy, bliss and beatitude
But, only at the cost of carnal, mundane and miry attitude…..

Copy Right: Shankar D Mishra   01.07.2018

TO THE LAKE

TO THE LAKE

O Lake! Thou art unlike the mortal humans
Never art thou fulsome, fleeting, futile or fake.
Two contrasting qualities between thee and us:
We live at the cost of the Earth, Thou for Its sake!

How transparent Thou art, how opaque we are!
How impartial Thou art, how partial we are!
How veracious Thou art, how mendacious we are!
How pristine Thou art, how adulterous we are!

Oh! Thou art a safe haven for the birds, we a heinous hell
Thou art an exquisite repository for the aquatic treasures
We, the poachers and predators of their peace and pleasures
Thus, Thou passest to enter the Paradise, alas! We do fail.

Thus, may we be cleansed with thy pious touch!
Ah! Nothing else, do we expect, except this much.

Copy Right: Shankar D Mishra  15.12.2016

WHAT IS THIS? O LOVE! DO TELL ME.

WHAT IS THIS? O LOVE! DO TELL ME.

Madness maddens me,
When, in a realm of fantasy, I dream of you!
Sadness saddens me,
When a gulf of separation is between me and you!
Gladness gladdens me,
When I find myself in the blithe company of you!
Restlessness entraps me,
When misunderstanding creeps in between me and you!

Is it a sublime soul’s reasonable rhyme,
 An uncontrollable mind's lusty carnal crime,
A crazy caprice’s audible pantomime,
A hallucinative whim’s temporary grime,
A raw reverie’s youthful slime
Or, it is only the ultimate behest of Time?

@Shankar D Mishra 17.12.2017

IF PRIDE COMES.......

IF PRIDE COMES.......

If pride of position comes
Look at the infinite sky.
If pride of success comes
Look at the humble, generous tree.
If pride of erudition comes
Look at the deep, enlightening Vedas.
If pride of Beauty comes
Look at the ever lasting Truth.
If pride of affluence comes
Look at the abundant, magnanimous Lord Kuvera.
If pride of life comes
Look at the all devouring Death.
If pride of vigour comes
Look at the decay and decadence.
If pride of devotion comes
Look at the exemplary bhakta Prahallad or Hanuman.
If pride of friendship comes
Look at Lord Krishna and Sudama.
If pride of service comes
Look at the angelic, philanthropic Mother Teresa.
If pride of borbearance comes
Look at the Great, tolerant Himalayas.
If pride of purity comes
Look at the Holy, Sacred Ganges .
If pride of kindness comes
Look at the ever bounteous Mother Earth.
If pride of generosity comes
Look at the Epic-hero Harischandra.
If pride of dedication comes
Look at your ever benevolent Parents.
Then you will see
Pride will automatically freeze into footling zero.

 N.B:- Vedas – the Hindu religious books; Lord Kuvera - the Hindu god of wealth; Bhakta Prahallad and Hanuman.– in the Hindu mythology, the devotees of Lord Nrusingha and Lord Sri Ram respectively; Lord Krishna – in the Hindu mythology the incarnation of Lord Vishnu and Sudama,His sincerest devotee; Harischandra- an Indian king known for his extreme generous nature

@Shankar D mishra  18.12.2016

O FATHER! MY FATHER!

O  FATHER!  MY FATHER!

O father! Where is your scintillating face
Are your soothing, caressing words
Is your unwavering ‘Life Race’
Are your truth and non-violence swords?

 O father! Where is your august magnitude
Your ingenuous, infallible introspection
Your polymorphous reason shrewd

Your up-soaring, unfaltering resolution?

Where is your enviable polymathy

Your spontaneous, generous sympathy
Your didactic, and moral treatise
Your enviable equilibrium and poise?

Where is your staid and sedate stride
Are your short, sensitive fingers
Is your priceless warp devoid of pride
Are your humble, humane gestures?

Where is your amicable confabulation
Your inimitable condescension
Your commendable inquisition
Your inmost, recuperating inculcation?

Where is your euphemistic innuendo?
Your healing, rejuvenating touch
Your inoffensive, godly-golden command
Your most precious preaching torch?

Where is your slow, and steady cycling
Your patronymic sweet name
Your unprecedented panegyric struggling
Your groovy, glorious life game?

I well recollect, your painstaking spine
Your platitude, ‘A stitch in time saves nine.’
Sweat I must to fecundate thy last dream
Flow as a sprightly, resuscitating  stream.

What else can be for you a meet tribute

Except fulfilling your life's sole, sublime goal
By carrying gladly you noble ideals out
To feed Rest and Peace to your immortal Soul?

Copyright: Dr. Shankar D Mishra, Bhubaneswar, Odisha, India 

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DO IDENTITIES REALLY MATTER?

DO IDENTITIES REALLY MATTER?

When I was born,
I was for my parents a son,
For my elder brothers and sisters, a younger brother,
For my uncles and aunts, a nephew, a cousin, or any other.

 I was also a grandson for my grandparents.
When I went to school, I was one of the students,
Whom my teachers loved, guided and taught.
After my college studies, to be a good teacher I fought.

First, I was known as a tutor, then a lecturer.
For a few and myself hitherto a petty poet in Oriya and English.
When I married, I became a husband to my wife, and my picture,
Was addressed in many different names then since!

When comes down my descendant
A father will be called, by him or her or them, I,
When he or she or they  marry, a father-in-law, they will chant,
For the child of the child, a grandfather, if be under the sky.

Although, from the cradle to the grave an innumerable names I take,
My extraneous identity often varies, but the Self is not fake.
It takes Its forms corresponding to Its past, and present action,
So, whatever they call me, I must first be a being human.

@Shankar D Mishra  17.7.2017

N.B: This poem was written in 2003 when I married and was yet to be a father.

WHEN WINTER DESCENDS!

WHEN WINTER DESCENDS!

After the elder Sister Rain does pack up, and retire to sleep,
Winter, the waking younger One, descends on earth to reign with Her cold grips!
Until Her shivering stares scare all, lash piercingly  and whip,
Students and teachers go on joy rides; while families arrange feasts and trips!

As the receding temperature, like a timid troop, does gradually begin to freeze,
The chilly, foggy and hazy wind does brace up to breeze to, a many lives, seize!
The foreign Siberian birds, like the devout and holy pilgrims, set out to migrate,
And the slothful Idlers do practise, from the furry and cosy blankets, to get up late!

Greens, marigolds and vegetables did begin to feast,
Grew they leaps and bounds under the munificent mist!
Blankets, sweaters, mufflers and woollen jackets,
Prevailed in the big and small garment markets!

Grooms and brides got ready to marry,
Elated peasants started to reap and carry,
Rushed in festivities in great abundance,
Oh! To welcome winter is a golden chance!

How much merriment reigned everywhere!
But, did you glimpse at Nature’s hidden fear?
Apart from the shivering and shuddering ice,
Pollution devils shred Her into many a slice!

Unless She is treated with due love and care,
All lives on Earth will one day be species rare!
Let’s all take an oath to protect Mother Earth,
To resore and revive future descendants’ mirth.

 @Shankar D Mishra  26.12.2017

WOULD THAT!

WOULD THAT!

Ah! For God’s sake
Would that all the preachers could practise,
What they preach!
Would that all the teachers could practise,
What they teach!
 
Would that all the listeners could practise,
What they listen!
Would that all the viewers could practise,
What they’re shown!
 
Would that all the readers could practise,
What they’re taught!
Reign would here inexhaustible joy and peace,
And, how different would be the Earth’s lot!

@shankar D Mishra   30.12.2017

SIMPLE MEN

SIMPLE MEN

Simplicity is good men’s food,
Humility is their unique hood.
They are neither hypocritical nor proud,
Their honest deeds speak for them aloud.

Prick they never in life anyone,
They are never a piercing thorn.
They are not at all a chameleon,
Whether it is noon, dusk or dawn.

They stick to their business own,
To controversy! They are never prone.
They never grumble, growl and groan,
They lend others, but never take a loan.

Silence is their mightiest weapon,
Tolerance is their unusual royal gown,
Divine grace is their costly crown,
Let’s bow at them and hug them as own.

They are the genuine gems on Earth,
They alone enjoy unalloyed mirth.
Let’s all abide by their peaceful path,
To make our base life full of worth.

They never ever spew heinous venom,
They are never ever an apple of Sodom.
Their noble thoughts are never slanted,
Ah! They should not be taken for granted.

They are the true Kinsmen of  kind Nature,
Who serves Love, sucks torturous rancour.
Whoever will their sublime virtues nurture,
Will surely live even after sad sepulchre.

@Shankar D Mishra 07.01.2018

O GOD! DO MAKE ME A LITTLE LAMP.

O GOD! DO MAKE ME A LITTLE LAMP.

O God! Don’t make me the extraordinary Sun,
Do make me a humble ordinary son;
To serve the people in His radiant absence,
With my very little dutiful, useful effulgence!

O God! There can n ever be another Sun,
As long as the benevolent Mother Earth is alive.
To be His worthy counterpart, let me learn,
To illuminate my little world, and honestly strive!

O God! Let me be a very small and detached zero,
Let me be a little sober and sacrificing hero,
Let me remove a little worldly sorrow,
Let me, share a little, but not ever borrow!

O God! Your Merciful Blessing is my fuel!
Do keep supplying It to me, to nourish me to dwell,
To live like His booned son till the very end,
To help my little world, like an unselfish true friend!

©Shankar D Mishra    18.01.2018

EXCUSE

EXCUSE

What a miraculous man-made cutout is “Excuse”!
Whenever we want, we can effortlelssly use.
Wherever we do want, we can soundly misuse,
What a good, obedient, helpful device for our use!

It is a cunning creation of the mean, selfish, base man.
To the honest, noble and saintly minority, it is unknown.
In the fields of the former it is always meticulously sown.
With its very ugly name the latter fire, swear and groan.

It’s now adulterated with the blood of the masses,
Very few are really spared from its vicious embraces.
All are adroit and adept at its efficacious, effectual use,
Who is there left untouched to this charismatic “Fuse’?

Most of us think its output is massive and huge,
Ah! Its input is so nominal that it needs not to use.
What an automatic, booned, bounteous device!
So what, if it is used at the cost of moral price?

But, how long can we use clandenstinely it?
During the total ‘Blackouts’ where will we fit?
So, now is the time apt, appropriate and meet,
To quit it and a blissful Emancipation greet.

N.B: Here, meet means appropriate.
©Shankar D Mishra    18.01.2018

TO THE COOL MOON

TO THE COOL MOON

Ah! The shy Moon at last emerged before an eager sight,
Breathing ethereal light at a great unreachable height,
Sending soothing, tickling and penetrating delight,
Putting a full stop to a long awaited, restless plight!

Ah! The luminous milky Moon at last came to a rapt view,
A bright dazzling extra-terrestial Angel in attire New,
Pipes of a unique silent joy She gleefully fervently blew,
Drenched my parched heart with her satin silvery hue!

Ah! The cool cute Moon bloomed in the horizon West,
Ending my niggling thirst of an infinite, boudless quest,
Putting my restive soul at mesmerizing betwitching rest,
Making Her beatific, angelic presence extremely well felt!

Ah! It’s a fluke of mine to have Her mercurial touch,
Soaring higher and highest to access to Her perch,
Deriving utmost pleasure celestial too much!
How can I spell out a heavenly phenomenon such?

None but I can read Her invisible words of rays,
None but She can hear to my inaudible praise,
Our bond will last for eternal ages, years and days,
For, it is perpetual, not meant for a mere miry cage!

N.B: Any person can sing this song for his Moon of joy.
©Shankar D Mishra    20.01.2018

DO KNOCK THY PSYCHE

DO KNOCK YOUR PSYCHE

Yes, You inhabit my tinsel realm of guiltless fancy,
As an infant dwells dearly in its parents,’ at infancy!
It may pose to you my raw, embarrassing lunacy,
But, it’s to me a zest, zeal, and blithe buoyancy!

Like the rising falling waves, before me you dance,
Albeit, I am in India, you are in invincible France!
Like the sweet shy Moon, you still coyly glance,
To becalm me, and my solace serenity, enhance!

My silence speaks volumes, alone audible to you,
Resonates, reverberates my unalloyed love, in you!
A host of , unlike me, might swarm and buzz around you,
Time will whisper, at leisure, who was incredibly true!

Dwelt you once, dwell you now, and will dwell in me,
Do knock your ‘Psyche’, my pious presence you can see!

©Shankar D Mishra    21.01.2018

A TRIBUTE TO SUBHAS CHANDRA BOSE

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO SUBHAS CHANDRA BOSE!🌹❤️🙏🙏

A TRIBUTE TO SUBHAS CHANDRA BOSE!

Yes, words fail and falter to tell your incredible heroic tale!
To gift the Nation a heaven, you could sanctify even the hell!
O the uncrowned and unpaid Sovereign of India's Freedom Saga,
O the Millennium Man of India, O the dark, bleak Gorge!
Who can pay you a fit and tantamount tribute,
Only except for a humble, grateful and submissive salute,
O the inimitable and dedicated Designer of India’s Triumph Flute,
O the cruelest, the most callous and the costliest Victim of the dastardly Brute?

Your momentous birth was the whole of India’s mirth.
Alas! Your holy and devoted blood is now in an acute dearth.
Your brave and brilliant brain was a bottomless knowledge ocean.
Your unprecedented fortitude and priceless patriotism are hard to explain!

When will there rise another bold and benevolent Bose in the eager, Eastern Sky,
So that he can heal the gaping scary scars, and bless his bereaved lovers and pacify?

Copyright: Dr. Shankar D Mishra, Sr. Lecturer in English, Bhubaneswar, Odisha, Bharat, 23.01.2024

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O GOD! I SEEK THY COMPANY.

O GOD! I SEEK THY COMPANY.

O God!
A dusty figure I am,
A rusty bone I am,
A lusty spirit I am,
A frosty entity I am!

O God!
An insane omnivore I am,
An unintelligible enigma I am,
An unpredictable uncertainty I am,
An utter tomfool existence I am!

O God!
A groping wayfarer I am,
A wrecking voyager I am,
A plumeless flyer I am,
A sure to perish bubble I am!

O God!
Whatsoever may be I,
I seek Thy Company when I die…..
©Shankar D Mishra   28.06.2018

A HUMBLE PRAYER TO GODDESS SARASWATI

A HUMBLE PRAYER TO GODDESS SARASWATI

O Maa! It is my humble, demure admission:
I will only disrespectfully plagiarize,
I will only discourteously publicize,
I will only apparently justify myself unwise,
I will only prove myself mad in the human guise,
To dare to describe You, what is indeed past description!

O Maa! I am really shivering at the thought of praising You,
I am shuddering at the thought of glorifying You,
I am stammering at the thought of extolling You,
I am shaking  at the thought of exalting You,
I am trembling at the thought of applauding Your Miracles,
I am absorbed at Your Heavenly, subtle spectacles!

O Maa! It will be an utter impudence to eulogize You,
It will be a sheer insolence to belaud You,
It will be an outright imprudence to  deify You,
It will be an out –and-out audacity to adore You,
It will be a complete dare-devilry to adulate You,
For, all the earthly epithets are too indecorous to glorify You!

O Maa! Without Your Magnanimous Grace,
I am a reprehensible fool in life's race!
Without Your Generous Grace,
I am a contemptuous figure without a face!
Without Your luminous Enlightenment,
I am a knowledge bulb without a filament!

O Maa! Without Your rapturous and radiant Light:
I am a gloomy gorge of ignorance,
I am a hollow husk without sustenance,
I am a dull, disdainful entity,
I am a void naught without utility,
I am too weak to brace up for life's fight!

O Maa! Without Your unfathomable Blessing:
I am, indeed, an ignoble, unwanted creature,
I am the most unwanted rubbish in Nature,
I am the most senseless cartoon caricature,
I am a mobile mortal minus any significant feature,
I am too brazen and bizarre a metal to be a coveted ring!

O Maa! Without Your bounteous Shower of Knowledge:
I am, undoubtedly, a derisive, unfilled and blank page,
I am the uncalled for swamp and sedimentary dredge,
I am a groping traveller in life’s mysterious maze,
I am a perplexed wayfarer in the confusion haze,
Without Your Elysian Boon I am accursed forever in this birth and death cage!

Saraswati (Sanskrit: सरस्वती, Sarasvatī) is the Hindu goddess of knowledge, music, arts, wisdom and learning. She is a part of the trinity (Tridevi) of Saraswati, Lakshmi and Parvati. All the three forms help the trinity of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva to create, maintain and regenerate-recycle the Universe respectively.
The festival is celebrated usually on the day of vasant panchami. Vasant Panchami means the fifth day of spring. The exact date of the festival keeps changing every year as per the Hindu calendar.
This day is celebrated as it initiates the spring festival. The colour that is associated with this festival is yellow. This colour is significant as during this time mustard flowers are blooming everywhere. People prefer to wear yellow clothes on this day as they worship the goddess. Even food items that are prepared on this day are generally yellow in colour. The food items that you will often see on this day are sweet saffron rice and yellow sweets.
The day is celebrated with puja and in some places cultural programs are also arranged. This day is considered as the birth day of goddess Saraswati. She is also considered as the wife of Brahma. In Punjab the Sikh community celebrates this day with a lot of devotion. On this day the musicians in gurudwaras perform the basant raga. In some parts of Punjab fairs are also arranged on this day. This is the day when Guru Govind Singh got married so it makes the day even more special. Even in Tamil Nadu this day is celebrated. It is the ninth day of the Navratri in Ashwin month. In Firozpur this day is celebrated with kite flying.

©Shankar D Mishra    16.02.2021

SMALL IS BIG.

SMALL IS BIG.

Small drops of gentle rain,
Contribute to make a vast ocean;
Small bogies joined together,
Make a long, serpentine train!

Small collected chips of stone,
Contribute to build a big concrete road;
Small repeated negligence,
Invites to a big troublesome load!

Small morsels of sweet grains,
Fill big masses of stomachs;
Small prudent savings of money,
Lead to a big treasury of stocks!

Small consistent industrious steps,
Steer one on the big path of success;
Small innocent children of today,
Lead the Fortunes’ Future Race!

A small act of generosity,
Saves the life of a big personality;
A small quantum of heavenly pity,
Becomes an invaluable gem of rarity!

A small steady and consistent preparation,
Rids one of anxiety and apprehension;
A small unnoticed spark of ignition,
Enlivens the big engines to run!

A small incomplete assignment of today,
Poses a Himalay of headache for tomorrow;
A small patient practice of meditation,
Reduces tension, removes much sorrow!

A small and easy task of serene prayer,
Cleans big dirts and lifts one to an upper layer;
A small persistent and resolute exercise,
Makes one sound, sensible and wise!

©Shankar D Mishra    26.06.2018

THIS IS WHY I SAVE MONEY IN A FOREIGN BANK!

THIS IS WHY I SAVE MONEY IN A FOREIGN BANK!

Yes, I stash my sincere Sweat's sweet fruit in a bank foreign;
So that I can reduce my native bankers'  unbearable strain,
So that I can retain  our world famous 'Indian Legacy of Generosity',
So that I can become one of the most magnanimous species of rarity!

Yes, I hoard my hard earned money in one of the safest foreign banks,
So that I can top India's endless lists of the honest tax payers' ranks,
So that I can, from the rest of the world, eliminate pounding poverty,
So that I can beat countless Harischandras
in my self-sacrificing charity!

Yes, I amass my unblemished money in a foreign blank as a visionary ant,
Lest I should be labelled as avaricious, selfish, dishonest and arrogant,
Lest I should be called a disobedient discipline of detachment,
Lest I should fail to be adored as a model of 'Philanthropic Saint!

Thus, let my candid confession spur others to pursue my noble and pious feet,
So that, they can, as I do, emancipate India from the firm grip of Poverty!

Copyright: Shankar D Mishra 16. 06. 2018
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O GOD! LET ME BE A RICHEST MAN.

O GOD! LET ME BE A RICHEST MAN.

Greatness can never be measured by means of money,

Character, not riches, makes one shining and sunny!

Wealth can be amassed by most, more and many,

But, a man of character does not need even a penny!

A million of millions can be seen, in the mundane sky, like the stars,

But, how many of them, you can bet,  are, without a spot, like the Stars?

A man of character surpasses all the barriers and transcends all the bars,

While, a man without character, spoils his present, and his future too mars!

A man of character enjoys the  rarest lightness of the fairest feather,

His greatness, from the Pole to the Pole, does always, thick and fast, slither!

He alone is the perpetual Glitter in this transitory and temporary Earth,

He is the richest man, though, to make both ends meet, he is ever in an acute dearth!

O God! Let me thus be a richest man withot owning a pittance or a guinea,

Let me only be a man of character, built on the plinth of Morality, not money!

* A million of millions – a millions of millionaires

* To make both ends meet – to earn just enough money to pay one's bills

Copyright: Shankar D Mishra  12.06.2018

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LET'S LAY DOWN THE WEAPONS!

LET'S LAY DOWN THE WEAPONS!

Let's lay down the fatal weapons:
Now, the worst enemies of humans,
That defile the purity of the pristine air,
That spread all around an animosity fire!

Let's lay down the mortal arms and blind armaments:
The deadliest agents of mass destruction,
That sever the globe into uncountable fragments,
That breed hatred, rivalry, fear and tension!

Let's lay down the gory ammunitions of intolerance:
The most heinous accused of volcanic and venomous violence,
That drags lives, in no time, to a stagnancy, and brings them to a stand still,
That, in an instant, insanely does the whole mankind massacre and stifle!

Let's today lay down what is harmful to God's Creation, and pernicious,
So that we all can relish, to the hilt, His generous gifts of life, so precious!

Copyright: Shank D Mishra   06.06.2018
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AN ECHO OF MY BELOVED's DESERTED HEART!

AN ECHO OF MY BELOVED's DESERTED HEART!

Oh! Once the inseparable Beat of your loving heart,
The indispensable Left Wheel of your life's ever running cart,
The inevitable Throb of your tickling and passionate pulsation,
The much needed Smile of your sweet and sublime sensation,
The very invariable Substance of your heyday's dream,
The perennial Source of your happy and content Stream,
The most essential Part of your life's goal distant and far,
The never changing Course of your Love's so-called Pole-star:
Is, alas, left today lonely like a company-less solitary Milestone,
Like the useless and irrelevant Husk, is, to the strange wind, thrown,
Is dumped beside the plate like the stale and tasteless Food,
Is alienated behind as if She were a thorny and inaccessible Wood,
Is deserted alone like a mischievous mirage of a dry and dull desert,
Alas, is left to lie forever half-dead at the Mercy of her sad and sore Lot!

*Lot - fate

Copyright: Shankar D Mishra 04.06.2018
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