TO MY DEAREST CHILDREN

TO MY DEAREST CHILDREN

O the most tender and promising buds of the imminent future,
Do get ready to come out of the gravid uncertainty Stems!
Do wait for basking in the nourishing rays of the knowledge Sun,
And becoming soon, like the Earth Tree’s dazzling and distinguished Diadems!

O God's costliest Gifts! Never get either dampened or dispirited,
In the face of the bitterest and trying trials of the most adverse climate;
For, they are the necessary encumbrances in life for your own weal,
To  fortify you enough to swing like the ripe and mellow apples early or late!

O the supplest Sapplings! Never anticipate in life to be sweet and delicious,
Without absorbing heat, rain and cold - an inevitable natural need,
For, all those who, you will behold and believe then, hang gleefully now,
Had once overcome like you the toughest hurdles  and steepest cliffs indeed!

O my dearest Children! You may accept me or not, but this is your life's Success Secret,
Those, who sincerely abide by my Sermons, shall be, without a speck of doubt, Great!

Copyright: Shankar D Mishra 14.11.19

TO "DHAN", MY LATE BABY DAUGHTER!

TO "DHAN", MY LATE BABY DAUGHTER!

Ah! under the debilitating debris of  our marooned memories,
You will forever remain, like the shiny dews of the early morning, serene and fresh!
Undoubtedly, Time forced you to, so untimely and shockingly, cease,
However, He cannot hide from us your ever playful, tranquil and pleasing trace!

Ah! Your living and enlivening image wells up torrential tears in our groping eyes......!
But what is our crime and transgression we do so sorrowfully surmise,
Of being bereaved of you at so early an age?
Ah! At the delightful dawn of your life's voyage, you left even before viewing the Sunrise!

Ah! Your spring-like nodding head,
Your relishing rolling of the joined fists,
Your skating like movement on the wheeled device,
Your innocent and shy glance; your delicious nibbling of biscuit and bread;
My tickling kissing on your smooth, supple, delirious and unalloyed cheeks;
Your sweet short sojourn and excruciating exit do mince our hearts into many a slice!

N.B. This poem was composed on the unexpected and sad death of the my baby daughter "Dhan" on 15th November, 2010 at 11.45 pm due to pneumonia. She was born on 10th Feb. 2010.

Copyright: Shankar D Mishra 03.09.2018

NIGHT

NIGHT

With the exit of the golden blazing Ball,
Sneaks shyly and quietly into the Sky She,
Accompanied by a coarse, black canopy,
Converts the Earth into a sombre and gloomy  hall!

She is greeted by the greedy, scurrilous nocturnal beings,
The tired and fatigued diurnal ones keep to the protective indoors,
The wanton and lewd miscreants revel with the loathsome colours,
Malaria rampantly spread by  the venomous mosquito stings!

The Earth becomes heavier than lead at Her arrival thus,
Lighter and more relieved She seems to see Her depart!
A contemptible curse for some; while a blissful boon for the others,
Notwithstanding a necessary  Evil, Night can’t be kept apart.!

Copyright: Shankar D Mishra 

Darkness

This is my concept of "Darkness", and yours? Do inform. Thanx.

DARKNESS

Lo! Life winks from the Darkness womb
Mingles in the Darkness of mystery
When lies slumbering forever inside the tomb
Bringing to an end its eventful history……..

Had there been no unique Darkness
How could one enjoy the much coveted solace
After the hustle and bustle of a fatigued day
To wake up revitalized for another fray?

Yea, Darkness scares not a detached soul
Darkness in life plays a pivotal role.
Lo! Flowers brave to bloom in the thick Darkness.
Those who glean prosperity in adversity truly win the Race.

So, let’s with unalloyed love embrace the misconceived Darkness
Then the elated Time will beckon us to greet, extol and bless.

An Unusual Wedding Anniversary Gift To Mr. And Mrs. Majhi

AN UNUSUAL WEDDING ANNIVERSARY GIFT TO MR. & MRS. MAJHI

Undeserved eulogy is called sycophancy
But, can an Editor publish an English Journal
For three odd decades without class and efficiency?

An inordinate or lusty desire is called passion
But, could ‘Rock Pebbles’ have blossomed today
Without DMU’s sacrifice of money, time and material accumulation?

Captaincy invoves pressure, privilege and fiscal pleasure
But, has Editorship, except for exchange of readers’and writers’erudition,
Proved for DMU to be anything else but a single-edged razor?

Perseverance, persistency and diligence fetch sweet success
But, can one, without placidity, purity, piety and integrity
Be endowed with God’s Unique Celestial Grace?

But, who does deserve more public plaudits…
Mr. or Mrs. Majhi? I seek the readers’ honest verdicts.

[N.B : DMU is the abbreviation of Dr. Udaynath Majhi.]

A TRIBUTE TO MANOJ DAS

A TRIBUTE TO MANOJ DAS

Learn from the heavenly flowers
How to spread the smell of virtue and nobility;
Learn from the inquisitive Manoj Das
How to overcome the ignominious ignorance poverty.

Learn from the firm, unperturbed Himalayas
How to weather with aplomb and fortitude adversity;
Learn from the  just, perseverant Manoj Das
How to maintain self -respect and dignity.

Learn from the benevolent and bounteous candle
How to burn yourself to illuminate all around;
Learn from the astute, articulate Manoj Das
How to inculcate, enlighten and astound.

Learn from the industrious, benefic honeybees
How to sacrifice yourself along with your savings;
Learn from the avid, studious Manoj Das
How to foster to flap your knowledge wings.

Learn from the lofty innocuous birds
How to soar in the high altitude;
Learn from the candid, detached Manoj Das
How to cultivate a right attitude.

Learn from the pure, life-sustaining water
How to nurture indiscrimination;
Learn from the observant, didactic Manoj Das
What to do if you seek emancipation.

Learn from the commonplace cow dung compost
How to enhance useful and harmless fertility;
Learn from the voracious, votary Manoj Das
How to develop callousness to self cheap publicity.

Learn from the desireless,devout Sudama
How to attain the beatitude and Bliss;
Learn from the determined, diligent Manoj Das
How to muster effortless mastery over English.

Learn from a sincere, devoted gardener
How to tend a sapling to grow and blossom;
Learn from the master humorist Manoj Das
How to paint with words to revamp and reform.

Learn from a chaste, bereft Indian widow
How to absorb acute pain and biter sorrow shroud;
Learn from the Utkal's booned scion, Manoj Das
How to make your Mother and Motherland proud.

Copyright: Dr. Shankar D Mishra, Bhubaneswar, Odisha

WhatsApp: 8249297412

Email: shankarmishra314@gmail.com 

N.B: This poem was published in the special Jan-June,2012 issue of "ROCK PEBBLES" which was exclusively dedicated to Manoj Das of Odisha, one of the best-known short story writers of the present times.
Thank u Majhi Sir for publishing my poem in your highly esteemed literary journal of International repute.

Manoj Das was an Indian author who wrote in Odia and English. In 2000, Manoj Das was awarded the Saraswati Samman. He was awarded Padma Shri in 2001, the fourth-highest Civilian Award in India, Padma Bhusan in 2020, the third highest Civilian Award in India for his contribution in the field of Literature & Education. Wikipedia

Born: 27 February 1934, Balasore

Died: 27 April 2021

Education: Ravenshaw College

Awards: Padma Bhushan, Padma Shri

Movies: Aranyaka

Courtesy: Wikipedia

AN ELEGY ON THE UNTIMELY DEMISE OF DHAN, MY NINE MONTH BABY DAUGHTER!

AN ELEGY ON THE UNTIMELY DEMISE OF DHAN, MY NINE MONTH BABY DAUGHTER!

Oh! What a gloomy vicissitude,
That snatched you away from us,
In an instant; it did intrude,
And forced us to face an irreparable loss…!

Alas! Like an innocent baby Sprite,
You slept never to ever wake,
Never ever to toddle, waddle and walk,
And, never ever to rejoice to view life’s day light!

How could one expect a tender pink twig to drop,
Without any ill omen of so severe a cyclone or so extreme a gust;
Or, just sailed a boat to sink never to ever come up,
Without any augury of such a horrible hurricane or such a tumultuous tempest?

Ah! Your sorest sepulture in the ninth month was an unexpected and unbearable bolt from the blue!
What’s the use of your Birth Certificate, I fortuitously procured on the same day too?
Who can be more unfortunate and sadder to get the Birth Certificate and Death Certificate together,
And remain a baffled, buffeted, bruised, battered and bereft Begetter?


N.B:- Dhan, my daughter, breathed her last on 15th Nov.2010 at 11.45 p.m   due to pneumonia. She was born on 10th Feb. 2010.

Copyright: Shankar D Mishra

A Tribute To PT. Bhimsen Joshiji

A TRIBUTE TO PT. BHIMSEN JOSHIJI

A doyen of Hindustani Music Classical
An unbeatable Emblem for his mellow Khayal,
A Guruji worshipper
A Kirana-Gharana Practioner,
A home fleer
An infallible struggler,
A Tansenian scholar
A Divinity showerer,
An angelic ariste rarer
An enviable inspirer,
A devout follower of Raghavendra Swami
A humble, unassuming pursuer of spiritualism,
A hypnotizer
A mesmerizer,
A sorcerer
A fascinator,
A reverberater
An enchanter,
An enthraller
An enrapturer,
A triller
A thriller,
A pacifier
A ruler,
A perfectionist
A humanist,
An inimitable, invincible Sur-Samrat
A possessor of a heart great and virat,
An irreplaceable Maestro immortal
A snarer by his unique recital,
An optimist
A transcendentalist,
A monumental music icon
A legendary master – India’s great scion,
A subduer of the crippling adversity
A creator of his aural university,
A riser from the humblest to the celestial
A founder of Sawai Gandharva Musical Festival,
A “Mile Sur Mera Tumhara” renderer
A bigamist and a fast, reckless car driver,
A groovy disciple of the venerable Swami Gandharva
A synonym of ebullience, knack, eminence, humility and love,
A saintly Classical singer
To the mundane earth the ecstasy bringer,
Ah! Closed eyes, ceased breath and sewed up lips forever…
Dropping a thick pal of gloom, grief and irreparable loss everywhere…..

Yes, we do mourn and pay for thy renascence
To retain thy legacy and revive the same ambience!

N.B : The information about the singer is collected from the English Dailies
“TOI, FPJ, IE, DNA & MM” published in Mumbai on 25th of January, the second day of his demise.

O MOTHER! I AM YOUR BOORISH SON.

O MOTHER! I AM YOUR BOORISH SON.

Oops! How much feral and rabid I was to yell at you
With the combustible words alive burn you
With the scissors of opprobrium rive your heart
With the rasping sledges of wrath do smart!

Where were my etiquette and courtesy left?
If while dealing with you, stolen by theft
Who could be more insolent than a perfidious scion than I’m?
The depth for containing my tears should be shallow a dam.

By piquing you on a trifle even before own spouse
Was nothing but sucking, pestering thru an ignoble louse.
It was indeed an indelible blunder to last up to the last breath
No longer should I deserve a berth in the realm of Your love and faith.

Hence, for this uncondonable goof, O God crucify me here,
And beget not a boorish, snobbish son as I: ‘My Only Prayer.’

Vidhva- An Indian Widow Bereft Of Her Husband!

VIDHVA – AN INDIAN WOMAN BEREFT OF HER HUSBAND!

Ah! After being bereaved of her husband
A woman is robbed of many an irretrievable possession:
Her forehead never ever glows with dazzling vermillion
The sprightly, jingling bangles and her hands become aliens
Gorgeous, embroidered costumes turn untouchables on land
Ornaments and she are twonever meeting parallel river brinks
Between much sought-after happiness and her have now no links
An erstwhile Angel is now a quasi-dead, pale, dungy, discarded lot
Smeared with inauspicious, unwanted and ostracized stains
Accursed, fettered and destined till last breath, only to rot…….!

[N.B: After being beref of her husband, a married Indian lady is called ‘Vidhva’ in India. The poet’s mother was bereft of her husband 42 years back when the poet was less than two years then.]

TO THE CROW

TO THE CROW

O’ the ever alert Crow!
Alas! Nobody ever fathoms thy sorrow
Thou never dost cease to caw
The selfless volunteer of every morrow!

What an unprecedented devoted servant!
Thou ever dost migrate
The stingy odour is thy aroma fragrant
Thy physique still glistens like black velvet!

O’ the sheer innocuous, unique bird!
No one is to us so familiar.
Thou dost attend every feast sine a card
Thou art of the least ambiguity spectacular.

Thou dost ever teach morals to the world.
Thy race doth maintain a firm, rocky unity
Thou art at no time a self-centred coward
And art endowed with the deepest sanity.

What we emit as excrement
Thou takest that as fit diet!
No other bird canst excel thy sublimity
Thou dost retain a paradoxical vitality.

Thou dost ever know no rest
The ever unsolicited guest!
By thee the Koyels are blest
How heart is thy chaste!

Some think, thou dost puzzle
When thou shrillest with thy muzzle.
Mean and ingrate are our people
To loathe thee and ominous label.

Thou dwellest in a realm utopia
Thou dostn’t have any myopia.
As soon as thou dost detect a dead corpse
Thou dost rush inviting thy uncle vultures.

Thy unbroken, genuine, mutual intimacy
Doth ever throw an edifying ray
“The triumph of virtue over vice
And a sleeping lion never snatches a prey.”

Please wait a while my dear
Thy golden time is approaching near,
Thou wilt be eulogized and paid sure
Thy service wilt be acknowledged everywhere.

[This poem is taken from “THE DAWN.”]

RIVERS

RIVERS

The rivers along with their clans
March ever ahead unceasingly
To mingle with the Super souls
And very unlike our races
They succeed in the long run….!

Unmindful to the most coveted temptations
Those welcome them on the zigzag paths……..
The stumbling blocks in disguise
Can never pose as much to them a threat
As they do to snare our susceptible races……!

The lone difference between us:
An unflinching conviction guides them
And us an impulse- the master of chameleon.
They themselves endeavour to reach their goals
Alas! We bribe others to fetch us the ‘heaven’!

[This poem is taken from “THE DAWN.”]

TO BOOKS: MY REAL FRIENDS

TO BOOKS: MY REAL FRIENDS

To speak in the truest sense of the term, as thou art,
No one else under the heaven so helpful has been to me,
So generous a stream to quench my unceasing thirst!
So selfless a Milch Cow to bless me with thy knowledge cream!

Thou art my weapon to ward off ignorance dark
In my desert mind, thou art an oasis-like park,
I inhale the fragrance of the lotus from thee
Thou art the root of this poor human tree!

The company of thine is as sweet as honey
Ah! Thou art to me as sacred as a shrine.
Thou art to me indeed a bounteous Egyptian Nile
Severance from thee for an instant dost ever me rile.

Thou art verily an incarnation of ever Merciful God
Thou art the life sustaining sap and I am the bud
Thou art the dazzling Sun, myself, the monotonous moon.
Thou art to me, on the Earth, irrefutably a priceless boon!

Copyright: Dr. Shankar D Mishra, Bhubaneswar, Odisha, India 
WhatsApp number:+91 8270604524

To The First Rain Of 2003

TO THE FIRST RAIN OF 2003

Thank thee, o’ the long awaited monsoon rains
For, the singeing earth was shrieking and cringing in pains
Thy healing touch will quench the homes, domes and dens
Will bring in greenery washing away the soiled stains.
Now Nature will dance in greenish, garnish gown
None can be scared of the ardent Sun’s frown
Peace will prevail in the country, city and town
As, to sway thy term, thou descend adorning thy rain crown.


But, alas! Is it thy own crime
That the soothing showers of thine
Can hardly pacify the intense flames of mine?
For which I can neither reconcile nor whine
For which I have been long since pining like a swine,
For, I have to respect what they say the behest of Time.

[This poem is taken from “THE DAWN.”]

MOTHER'S HEART

MOTHER’S HEART

Oh! Mother’s heart?
It’s not merely a marrow, blood and flesh part,
As most of us do resolutely retain;
It is really unique, and quite far away from any type of stain!

Do move all over the world; still can you come across anything,
More generous, more wondrous more pristine, nobler and greater?
No, never. More captivating and more fascinating  they may appear,
None can suckle you with the life sustaining milk; even to suck gains all shall cling!

Yes, the rest of world is a swarm of the hoggish, piggish and wolvish fleas,
But, Mother's Heart is a Fountain of bounty; a sweet, succulent and safe hive:
The former drones around you to hypnotize  and sting so as to snatch and seize,
While, She starves, toils and sweats for your well-being, and prays that you may thrive!

Yes, none can replace Mother, a never drying Sea of Mercy, next to the Almighty!
So far as Her unanticipatory, magnanimous and immeasurable sacrifice is concerned!
None can overshadow Her in Love, Kindness, Chastity and inner Beauty,
For, She never curses, retaliates or avanges you, despite being betrayed and burn'd!

Thus, let’s all bow, genuflect and prostrate before Mother's Divine Idol,
And, let's never hurt Her Heart even a little by breaching, shirking or misdemeanour;
Then only can rest in peace and heavenly Bliss our grateful and blessed Soul,
Or else, we must incur God's rage to rut and atone in a hateful Hell forever!

Copyright: Shankar D Mishra 12.05.19

Please search on Google Poetry of Shankar D Mishra to read hundreds of my new poems. Tq.

TO THE CUCKOO

TO THE CUCKOO

O the Spring’s mysterious and mystic Jewel!
Don't be for me sadistically so cruel.
Nor do add to my fire of anxiety any more inflammable delaying fuel.
But, do sing kindly and serenely to let me know where you do dwell?

What else can I own, on Earth, as rich and valuable a treasure
As Spring’s eternal, ethereal and enviable pleasure?
From the light till the night, what can assuage so much of my mental torture,
In this mundane sphere of sledge, haze, sediment and mire?

Alas! All that I endeavour to trace you instantly goes agonizingly in vain,
Though, your vibrant, verdant and vivacious songs do heal my hidden pain,
And stir me to ramble raptly in your search through the thick groves, time and again;
And my restive and rewarding quest of yours swells my seas of exhilaration!

Yes, the charming, dulcet and melodious music of Yours,
Sprinkles unending rays of mirth and ecstasy all around,
As You keep your soothing whistling on in the Vernal wood, bliss and solace abound!
Who will then will to leave an Elysian realm built by the Panacea of all cures?

O the bejewelled, bewitching and beautiful Queen of the Spring!
Your comely,  compelling and mesmerizing singing,
 Does surpass your million counterparts' dull and humdrum twittering,
Lo! The elated Earth’s euphorically glued to Your harmonious string!

[This poem, inspired by Wordsworth, is taken from “THE DAWN.”]

O RAIN! WHAT YOU REALLY ARE?

SDM'S QUATRAIN ONE (1) ON
O RAIN! WHAT YOU REALLY ARE?

O Rain!
Some say that you patter
Some say that you chatter
Some say that you clatter
And, some blame that you batter!

O Rain!

Some say that you potter
Some say that you mutter
Some say that you twitter
And, some blame that you embitter!

O Rain!

Some say that you grumble
Some say that you rumble
Some say that you gambol
And, some blame that you entangle!

O Rain!

Some say that you stutter
Some say that you sputter
Some say that you squatter
And, some blame that you bring jitter!

O Rain!

Some say that you stumble
Some say that you fumble
Some say that you mumble
But, to me you’re noble and humble.

O Rain!

Whatever may some say,
But, you heed to them no pay
You only abide by the behest of Nature
Thus, your sublime spirit all should nurture!

Copyright: Dr. Shankar D Mishra 18.06.19

WHY? WHY? WHY?

WHY?   WHY?  WHY?

 Why so much craze
 For false, fleeting praise?
Oh! The glaze of the days
At nights never stays!

What is there in the flesh?
How frenetic to embrace!
A lovely hellish place
That swindles by dress.

Why dost thou crave
In the bank pelf save?
Wilt catch away the Knave
While thou art in grave.

Why a queue for power,
Strife, for muggy mire?
Being obscene, blunt and bare
Wilt thou descend from the stair.

Why thou dost nurture ire
Indulge in haze, mirage and care?
Yea’ nobody will share
What thou sowest in the layer.

Why is then temptation
Enmeshed by delusion?
Freedom from illusion
Wilt bring thee blithe salvation.

[This poem is taken from the poet’s Anthology “A CYNOSURE OF ENGLISH POEMS.”

A TRIBUTE TO SWAMI VIVEKANAND

HAPPY NATIONAL YOUTH DAY, 2024

A TRIBUTE TO  SWAMI VIVEKANAND

Oh! What a gigantic and refulgent persona thou wert,
That ever trode on this clayey earth
Remained ever unparallelled and unsurpassed!
Thou wert amongst the scintillating constellations,
The most radiant Jyotiska!
Thou wert the Jupiter amongst the chains of the nine planets,
The most luminous Full-Moon amongst the satellites,
Thou wert amongst the numerous viviparous animals,
The most immaculate and unalloyed genius!
Thou wert amongst the clusters of shiny stars,
The most intense, ardent and enlightening Mid-day sun!
Viva! O the great, adorable Soul we salute thee with utmost submission!

Gigantic - very large
Refulgent - shining brightly and radiantly
Persona - personality
Thou wert - you were
Clayey - physical, material
Unparalleled - having no equal
Unsurpassed - surpassing all others in some way
Scintillating - sparkling, brilliantly clever
Constellation - an image associated with a group of stars
Radiant - giving off rays
Luminous - glowing brightly
Viviparous - being born alive as are most mammals
Immaculate - pure, clear, spotless
Unalloyed - pure
Viva - long live
Adorable - worthy of adoration, love
Utmost - greatest
Submission - yielding, humbleness

N.B. Nine planets - when the poem was written, Pluto was being considered a planet.

Copy Right: Dr. Shankar D Mishra, Sr. Lect. in English, Bhubaneswar, Odisha, Bharat

Please share this poem as a token of your love to Swami Vivekananda.

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FRIENDSHIP

FRIENDSHIP

Hark! Friendship is a rarely seen sheltering and caring Tree,
That everyone shall eagerly and unquestionably agree!
Lo! It demands the least while it offers a lot more,
It’s a modest apparel, that all ought to, in life, wear!

Hark! Friendship is a salvaging Ship that ferries us across life’s Sea,
Of the interminable Cycles of birth and death!
Oh! It blesses both bountifully like Portia’s Heavenly Mercy,
Only who have in “It” an unflinching and unfathomable faith!

Friendship is a  Panacean Stuff, scarcely sold anywhere, or bought,
It is found to those who are fortunate enough with a unique lot!
Yes, It’s a Compassionate  Camel of the destitute and desolate desert,
It is bestowed by God only upon the fair, unassuming and the desert!

Thus, let’s all be resolved to cherish to nurture and nourish It,
It’s as simple as A, B, C if we both will, with a pure heart, a little bit!

Copy Right: Shankar D Mishra 13.12.2016

A BABY

A BABY

Yes, nothing is as sweet as a baby’s smile
Nothing is as chaste as a baby’s will
Nothing is as supple as a baby’s cheeks
Nothing is as pink as a baby’s lips
Nothing is   as innocent a baby’s look
Nothing is as pitiable as its tear brook!

Nothing is as comely as its stuttering tongue
Alas! Nothing remains with it as it grows young.

Copy Right: Shanar D Mishra 14.12.2016

TILLERS

HAPPY NATIONAL FARMER'S DAY!

TILLERS

Tillers are the Fillers,
Hunger pang healers!
Rolling under the pulverizing penury Rollers,
They feed the worldwide Rulers, Millers and Sellers!

But, alas, Tillers are the soft, easy and innocent preys,
Even if they radiate the Earth with their hard earned grain Rays,
By the honest sweat of their brows all moments, nights and days;
For, being the Victims of Exploitation is their only rewarded wage!

Then, who can mitigate the Tillers’ soundless and ever seething pain,
Who can clean their misery-stricken malnutrition drain,
Who can feel the inaudible beats of their crippled and anxious hearts,
And, who can, indeed, play under the Sun, their ever unplayable parts?

Then, when will our dormant society honour their honest labours,
When will our shrewd Minority cease showing to them the virtual favours,
When will our civilized Masses stop sucking the Earth's costliest blood donors,
And when will  our Law Abiders end hoodwinking the Globe's legitimate Owners?

Alas! Only legions of lip assurances and oceans of pen compassions,
Can't be adequate enough for one of the most awaited permanent solutions!

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

23.12.2021 

My blog: sdmpoetry.blogspot.com

Image Courtesy: Google

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Misunderstanding

MISUNDERSTANDING

Misunderstanding! Oh! A fraction of its atom
Turns a beautiful bowl of blissful benison
Into a fathomless, loathful ocean of venom,
Contributing to a strained bruised relation.

Phew! Misunderstanding is a foul stinky odour
That turns with its abominably accursed vicinity
A pearly thought garden of serenity and splendor
Into a dingy dump yard of filth, stench and impurity.

Misunderstanding is a pernicious expired drug
That aggravates, instead of remedying an unquiet patient,
Leads its gullible victims to apathetic shrug
Digging a deep ditch in relations so sweet and decent.

Let’s all take a staunch oath neither to give it birth
Nor to strangle and kill our costly treasured Mirth.

Copy Right: Shankar D Mishra  14.12.2016

Let's

LET’S

Let’s leave
What leaves us to live.
Let’s live
What leaves us not to grieve.

Let’s see
Wha helps us to cross life’s Sea;
Let’s be a swarm of diligent  bees
To spray sweetness, and joy breeze.

Let’s help to help us.
Let’s play a fair-play paying no heed to the toss.
Let’s bless and never curse
To fill at length, our own Virtue Purse.

Let’s all grittily practise what we often preach.
Lo! Heaven won’t be too far for us to reach.

@Shankar D Mishra 18.12.2016

[N.B: Dear friends, in the first stanza, the 1st use of ‘pun’ tells that we should avoid those things which allow us o live comfortably. Then, the 2nd ‘pun’ tells us to live in such a manner that our same manner will help us not to feel sad for our own wrong doings in the past. The 2nd, 3rd and 4th stanzas are understandable. Pliz read and enjoy. Thank you all.]

Power

POWER

 Power is what makes one devilish and blind
Despotic, autocratic, arbitrary and unkind,
Self-centered, rapacious and gluttonous
Inhumane, insane and unscrupulous!
 
Power is what injects in one intoxication
Of malice, hatred, umbrage and perversion,
Arrogance, pretense, hypocrisy and cruelty,
Snatches away one’s precious rationality!
 
Power is what deprives one of costly reason
Justice, law, forbearance and decent margin,
Peace, purity, piety and mental equilibrium,
Makes his mind a mussy, dirty and slutty slum!
 
Power is what an ignoble curse in disguise
Accumulates sorrow, suffering and despise,
Bags people’s reluctant, requited praises
Is preferr’d by demons, not by sensible sages.
 
So, O sane humans, abstain from the atrocious Power,
Walk the path – unblemished, virtuous and pure
By and by you’ll be more amicable and soar higher
And be blest with a Heaven’s Pass at length sure!

@Shankar D Mishra 20.12.2016

LET NOT

LET NOT

Let not your love pain someone
Let  not your hatred kill any innocent one
Let not your food make one more hungry
Let not your compassion compel one feel sorry.

Let not your life be one’s death
Let not your deeds stab one’s faith.
Let not your smile prompt one to rile
Let not your sweets be for one bile.

Let not your hospitality be for one hostility
Let not your charity violate one’s chastity
Let not your recognition blur one’s identity
Let not your steps wound one’s humility.

Let not your sanity make someone insane
Let not your beauty rain one’s bane
Let not your water enhance one’s thirst
Let not your sham broom, heap in one’s soul, dust.

Let not your sympathy force one feel poor
Let not your sugary deeds taste one sour
Thus, let you do nothing that worsens one’s ache
Being not a hyacinth, bless’d you are, for God’s sake.

N.B: Water hyacinth is one of the best examples of selfishness and not allowing others to live and grow together harmoniously.

@Shankar D Mishra  22.12.2016

A TRIBTE TO M.S DHONI

A TRIBUTE TO M. S. DHONI

O Dhoni! You are, undeniably, Mother India's indelible dignity, glory and pride:
Who did, under tremendous pressures, triumphantly and effortlessly guide,
To kiss the two most captivating and never forgettable Cricket World Cups,
Ever leading from the front, and ingniting the half score young and matured Props!

Oh! Snatching heart-throbbing Victories from Defeats’ formidable Claws,
On many occasions, was one of  your most fantabulous Feats and memorable Mantras!
Behind the stumps you caught the balls with  an eagle's vigilant and unblinking eyes,
And before them, your inimitable helicopter shots rocketed the balls into the yonder skies!

Oh! Your sharp cricketing ingenuity and acumen was highly commendable,
Your bold, judicious and flawless leadership was, unquestionably applaudable! 
Your Herculean guts and Bhimsen's gusto were past all descriptions,
Your Bhisma's determination and cucumber coolness ever evoked thrilling sensations!

Oh! Your pacific composure and placidity as well as profound tranquility,
Shaped you to be a salutable stalwart in the world of Cricket with the least ambiguity!
Your devoted and unshakable Dante’s concentration fetched us many a Guerdon,
Lo! Till end you never showed  indiscipline, indecency, complacency or ire-irruption!

Oh! You will ever remain one of the best  for your enviably improvising leadership flare,
Never did you ever fall out, under the bitterest circumstances, nor did  blast or blare!
Your insatiable appetite for the team's Victories, and your adorable sportsmanship spirits,
Added varied and veritable velvety feathers to your intrinsic and mesmerising multifarious merits!

Oh! You were, authoritative par excellence, but were never loathfully dominating,
Humble etiquette for you was so priceless, glittering and inevitable a ring!
Controversy and you were ever strangers to each other on and off the fields,
Yes, prodigies, like you, are indeed, for any team,  the most protective Shields.

Indeed, our grateful brows bow for your beautifying India’s Name with your service!
Oh! To be such a gifted alrounder in cricket is inarguably a rare and resplendent bliss!
Thus, may God increase your Tribe and bless you to prevail too in the Game of life!
For, an ultimate Hero is he, who wins successfully the interminable mundane Strife!

N.B. This poem is a tribute to MSD after his announcement of retirement from International cricket on 15th August, 2020.

Copyright: Shankar D Mishra  21.08.20

Please share this poem to show our love for MSD. Tq.

THAT IS WHY SHE IS CALLED MOTHER!

THAT’S WHY SHE IS CALLED MOTHER!

When you do lose your temper,
With or without reason on any other,
Must he not appreciate, but shall shower
On you instantly hot, volcanic and boiling water!

But, entirely exceptional is your Mother:
For, instead of being furious and vicious rather,
She will humbly absorb, evaporate and cower,
And eagerly persuade you to please and placate further!

Yes, no one else can so much patience gather,
No one else can so much pure Love render,
No one else can, in heavenly virtues, excel Her,
No one else can be so therapeutic, vulnerable and dear!

That is why, She is called ‘Mother’ –
Made up of a Divine stuff, uncommon and rare!

@Shankar D Mishra  12.05.2019
Please forward this poem.

A CAPRICE OF A PASSING SHOWER

A CAPRICE OF A PASSING SHOWER

Yes, deeply I love you my ‘Love’
O my peace pouring dove
O my koyel of the vernal grove
O my oxygen springing shrub!

O my distant constant inspiration
O my sweet new found sensation
O my Shakespeare’s suspense damsel
Bounteous you are. Bestow me a morsel!

A mesmerizing oasis you are
In my arid forlorn heart desert.
An upward lift, sublime and rare
Beckons me to swing in joy great!

Wordsworth’s sprightly ‘Daffodils’ you are
Lying on Time’s cot I caress you and care!

@Shankar D Mishra   02.01.2017

MY MOTHER

MY MOTHER

In sweetness dwells eternal Beauty
In Beauty is cached ecstatic sweetness.
Both cascade from God’s Infinite Grace
They, whom they hug, are species of rarity.

I thank God, for my Mother is bestowed with both,
Whose very name surges around me the waves of mirth,
Whose contribution is past any mundane measure,
Who, Herself, is to me an invaluable treasure.

Who else can quench my nagging thirst faster?
Who else can satiate my niggling appetite better?
Who else can heal my acute wounds more efficaciously?
Who else can cater to my needs more magnanimously?

She is to me, indeed, a mortal Deity par excellence
Ah! To be Her son, really adds an immense sense.

This poem is dedicated to the fond of my FB friend Asit Lahiri Sir of her mother on her Death Anniversary that fell yesterday.

@Shankar D Mishra   03.01.2017

FIRE

FIRE

Oh! The Fire of ire
Burns instantly all to pyre.
The Fire of mire
Makes all an ignoble liar.

Oh! The Fire of  lust
Turns all to rutting rust.
The Fire of the Unjust
Pounds Right to dust.

Oh! The Fire of avarice
Pulls all to vice.
The Fire of spite
Does all writhingly bite.

Oh! The Fire of riot and broil
Courts devastation, turmoil,
Engenders peace and harmony
Imperils universal symphony.

Oh! The Fire of savage violence
Stifles all reasonable Sense,
Oozes blood and sheds tear
Spreads acrimony, rancour and fear.

Oh! The Fire of green-eyed jealousy
Injects in intolerance Missy,
Kicks its obnoxious Owner down
To wear, at last, a hideous crown.

Oh! The Fire of greed
Spoils sex, relation and creed,
Tempts to scandalous deed
And induces to irrationality breed.

Oh! The Fire of gusty passion
Incites unscrupulous sensation
To land all at a sensual station
For remorse, tears and ruination.

But, Ah! The Fire of pure Love
To be noble and pious does serve,
Rids all of a loathsome hell
Granting all a much awaited Bail.

Ah! The Fire of knowledge
Offers all an extra edge.
The Fire of enlightenment
Pours sublimity and contentment.

Ah! The Fire of devotion
Scorches evil, ill inclination,
Leads all to self purification
Rendering Beatitude, Emancipation.

@Shankar D Mishra   04.01.2017

A VERSE ON LOVE

A VERSE ON LOVE

Love is not love that bends
Love is not love that rends
Love is not love that stinks
Love is not love that shrinks.

Love is a saccharine soft flower,
It does Its sweet aroma shower.
It knows never either to falter or to cower,
Yes, no mundane riches can afford it to hire!

Love really retains tremendous power,
It is ever unburnt even by devastating fire!
It is ever untainted even by muggy mire,
Yes, It's a gift on Earth heavenly and rare!

Indeed, Love can both melt stones and join broken hearts,
It can conquer peaks and play many miraculous parts!
Let our Love be as soothing as healing Panacea,
Let our Love remove death, acrimony and inertia!

Copyright: Shankar D Mishra 31.08.2018

O LOVE! I LOVE YOU FOR LOVE’S SAKE

O LOVE! I LOVE YOU FOR LOVE’S SAKE

Let me tell you, o my dear, sweet ‘Love’:
I love you for nothing but Love’s sake.
Nothing to fear about and nothing to freak.
Betrayed! You can desert me, my Dove.

Only a source of inspiration you are.
No entry for apprehension, my pretty dear
Neither a stain nor a stigma will you incur;
For Love’s sake I love you and will forever……

Yes, 'A burning child dreads the fire.':
Know this you very well, I and all
But, Love is past inflammation. Mire
Maligns, buffets and brings a nasty ‘Fall’.

A ‘Balm’ is my love; cool and and healing
Lo! It reigns in your heart, pulse and feeling.

@Shankar D Mishra 06.01.2017

THE ATTRIBUTES OF LOVE

THE ATTRIBUTES OF LOVE

Love is not crushed
Love is not cursed
Love is not bruised.
Love is only cruised!

Love is the compass on the life’s Ocean
Love is the guiding Star in lovers’ Heaven
Love is a nectaric dew drop of Joy’s dawn
Love is the heyday warmth of the emotion Sun!

Love is the breeze on the life’s vale
Love is the pearl of the mystery shell.
Love is ever fresh, and never stale
Love is the antonym for a hideous hell.

Love is the only redeeming Truth on Earth
That leads all to feast on an Elysian Mirth.

@Shankar D Mishra 06.01.2017

Cruel Men

CRUEL MEN

Men who are undesirably cruel
Don’t you know, where they do dwell?
They inhabit a currish, culpable hell
Their presence emits a stench smell.

Dear friend, men of sheer cruelty
Are species of utter frailty.
Aliens are they and sweet reality
Nefariously, barbaric and guilty.

Fie upon them! Blood is their drink
Into abysmal irrationality they sink.
With compassionate humanity they have no link
Mayhem, through their unholy glares, does wink.

Dear, those who are fiend-like cruel
Are accursed combustible fuel,
May not their devilish tribe swell
For the Earth’s peace, harmony and well!

They take delight in unquiet conflagration
They rejoice at the innocent’s crucifixion
They gambol when the simple stumble
They rumble for the happiness to crumble.

They are the burdens of the Universe
Their very birth is for others a curse
They are notorious for being brutal, perverse
Oh! Their presence is a colossal global loss!

N.B: This poem was written at the request of one of my F.B friends yesterday. Thanks friend for your inspiration.

@Shankar D Mishra 08.01.2017

WHAT A POEM SHOULD BE.

WHAT A POEM SHOULD BE.

A poem can be Good,
When edible like food;
Preach a purpose should
And touch every mood!

A poem can be Better,
When churned like butter;
Carries well-knitted letter
Acts as an exemplary Tutor!

A poem can be Best,
When Heaven-like chaste;
An ever welcome Guest
That keeps  souls at Rest!

Copyright: Shankar D Mishra 08.01.2017

If

IF

[A surprise gift to Rajeswer Sharmaji]

If eyes could shed all the tears
If lips could blossoms all the cheers
If law could remove all the fears
If heart could convey all she bears!

If cosmetics could enhance inner Beauty
If peace could be restored by a treaty
If the ugly could be replaced by the pretty
If everyday could be a marriage party!

If everything could be burnt by fire
If all the feelings man could share
If the shape of the Earth were square
If man could invent a heavenly stair!

If sea water were as sweet as honey
If gravels were as costly as money
If stars could twinkle on the seashore
If Heaven could be the Earth’s Floor!

If pills could heal all the pains
If force could shower Mercy-rains
If identical could be all the brains
If all the emotions could express pens!

If water and fire could reside together
If igloos could be made in hot weather
If man could have a bird’s feather
If anyone on earth could replace Mother…….!

If God could be pleased by any means
If sins could be cleansed by any means
If Bliss could be obtained by any means
If Salvation could be attained by any means……..!

©Shankar D Mishra    11.01.2017

HAPPY MEN

HAPPY MEN

Brightness is life
Darkness is death.
Fight successfully they the strife
Braced up for any Fate with a firm faith.

Virtue is feather-like light
Earth-like heavy is sin.
From the former they extract delight
Against the latter they never lean!

Treating alike both warmth and cold
By and by, they grow old.
Walking ever the prudent steps and bold
Before all eyes, a laudable image they mould.

They cry not in humiliating paucity
Nor do they relinquish sacred sanctity
Nor do blame others for their own gloom
Nor do they whine ever for their doom.

Spill they not their joy while they swim in plenitude
Nor look down upon, nor let anyone down
Nor do lose their cool, nor do they frown
For, a steady modest star shines in their attitude.

They humbly plaudit others for their popularity
If befalls defamation, stake self-responsibility.
Victory to them is the integrity fruit of labour
‘Defeat’ is a stern teacher for a better endeavour.

They have all friends, and no foes
For, they are conscientious and just.
Enjoy they one and all’s unswerving trust
Every moment, their woes wane and joy grows!

They come down with a goodly supply of virtues
Who can clear their unpayable dues?
They are in themselves an endless main of “Marvel”.
Let’s at least look upon them with reverence, and hail

They are happy for making others’ days
For not succumbing to the savage rage
For leading the life of a pertinent sage
Not being ensnared in the mundane Cage.

Let’s all be happy, like them, for making others glad
For dripping honest sweat by persevering hard.
For making the World a better place than yesterdays
For craving for nothing except God’s Blissful Rays.

N.B: Main means sea used by Longfellow in ‘A Psalm of Life’.

©Shankar D Mishra    13.01.2017

Turn To Mother Nature

TURN TO MOTHER NATURE

O the ever idly busy and occupied humans!
Do stop for a while
Do wait for a while
Do watch for a while
Do enjoy for a while
When Mother Nature does merrily dance.

Her enchanting glance pours peace
Her enticing gait is full of bliss
Her dulcet music removes doldrum
Her vicinity becalms every material storm.

She drifts you away to an Elysian realm
Where pesters you none like the Pandora’s curse,
Bathe you will in a nectaric, sprightly stream
Mundane woes will evanish, heavenly gaiety will rush.

Why do you roam, roil, revel noisily and roister
In the rocky, turbid and spurious world,
After execrable flotsam and jetsam hanker
O man – careworn, capricious and blurred?

None like Her will refresh, relieve and fructify
Nowhere but in Her abode does lasting respite lie.
Turn to Her – your only refuge of rest and reprieve
Yes, She will hug you, mollify, and gladly revive!

[N.B: Fructify means make fruitful or fertilize; mollify means make calm or pacify]

©Shankar D Mishra    13.01.2017

Love

LOVE

Love without trust
Is a dull, dreary crust,
Where sprouts never any seed
To nourish true lovers and feed.

Love smeared with lust
 Is a bubble, sure to burst
By the distrustful gust
To perish, and be lost.

Love without sweetness
Is a relation without credence
A blossom without fragrance
A Spring without joyance.

Love without love
Is a misguiding, mapless globe
A word without a sense
A sentence without a tense.

Thus, Love is a heavenly cascade;
Brought up, nurtured and well bred,
Falls on two true,loyal, loving souls
To attain salvation: their only goals.

©Shankar D Mishra    14.01.201

Hateful Jealous Men

HATEFUL JEALOUS MEN

Hark! On the Earth, the hateful jealous men
Are an indelible, ineffaceable, rigid stain.
They feel glad to see others in piercing pain
Are confined only to their nasty personal gain!

They rain incessant torrents of jealousy
Without an iota of compassion or Mercy.
Their nature is as abominable as ‘Leprosy’
They are devoid of humanitarian courtesy!

They are blind of an impartial eye
Their mind is a reeking, detestable sty.
In the divine table, at the bottom, they lie
Oh! Before demise, a million times they die.

Their depraved hearts are elated to the hilt
To see their rival hearts excruciatingly split.
Their crooked eyes are content to extract tears
Their cursed presence breeds worries and fears.

On the stagnant earth-pool, they are the obstinate grime
Their evil, foul look glares a lot through pantomime.
Let’s, thus, all keep instantly them forever at bay
To be blessed, at length, with a Blissful Ray!

N.B: This poem was written at the request of Nityananda Dash, my fb friend. Thank u, Dash babu for inspiring me.

©Shankar D Mishra    15.01.2017

Commission Ghosts

COMMISSION GHOSTS

A rustic reached a cosmopolitan city
Together with his family and young children
Brimmed with hopes and curiosity:
A new life, a new occupation and a new den!
 
First he met a traffic police man
Who told to board a more convenient van.
Then he turned to a person for a quick solution
To locate a more affordable accommodation.
 
Approached he then a job provider
Welcomed who with his arms wider.
Being appointed within an instant
Joys inside started to be rampant.
 
Glad to find the pseudo god-incarnates
He asked his neighbour for a better tuition
Where his children could top the institution;
Gladder to help, he too arranged for his monthly ration
Introduced him with a soft speaking family (physician) leech
For cheaper treatments, commissioned tests and easier reach!
 
How fortunate and rapturous he was there!
How, like Ben Adhem, the species were rare!
Alas! Until himself obsessed by the same Commission Ghost
He remembered them with an indebted, submissive respect utmost.

N.B: This poem deals with the commission systems almost at every sphere of life mostly in cities. Even the victim of commission of yesterday practises the same when he is acquainted with the same prevalent system.
©Shankar D Mishra   15.01.2017

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    18.01.2017

Yes

YES

Yes, behind every innocent look
Looks not always pure peaceful Innocence.
All those who love the Moon
Dip not in quagmire, devoid of a prudent sense.

Yes, all the eyes are not enough wise
To discern and distinguish between virtue and evil.
All those who love the sweetness of the MOON
Are not blinded by carnal lust, a trait of the devil.

Yes, all the hearts are not so insensible and insensitive
That they can not sense the sense of the sense.
All the clouds that float in the life's sky are forces negative
And cursed only to shower ever pernicious acid rains.

Yes, all the ships that sail in the life’s deep, intricate sea
Are not tainted only by a selfish, mercenary ill-motive.
Yes, all the Moon lovers are not pervert and flirtive
That all, in the long run, must remorsefullly feel and agree.

©Shankar D Mishra    19.01.2017

NO

Who can buy me a kind of adhesive glue
That can join a sublte, broken and bleeding heart?
Who can find for me a bar of purifying soap
That can cleanse and douse a mind’s rigid dirt?

Who can give me an encashable cheque
That can find for me pure, pristine and platonic love?
Who can cook for me the sumptuous, delicious dish
That can please an insatiable appetite to serve?

Who can discover a panacean, painkilling pill
That can cure the eczema of bewildering distrust?
Who can show me a bubble of fleeting renown
That ,one moment or the other, doesn’t burst?

Who can prescribe me a healing, soothing medicine
That can remedy an invisible, undisplayable wound?
Who can bring me back the original shape of a betel leaf
After it has been mercilessly, gleefully munched and ground?

Who can me the ridiculous, unacknowledgeable way
That can churn out costly cream out of salty water
Who can bluntly challenge me to deny
That ‘Conscience’ is the best, wisest Tutor?

Who can prepare for me a mouthwatering spice
That can restore the lost flavour of charred love?
Who can fetch me an unsellable and unbuyable ticket
That can enroll me in the list of an immortal Club?

Who can create a rare, unique and heavenly Balm
That can revive and revitalize a burnt, perished emotion?
Who can devise an unimaginable, intangible flight
That can convey me on the path of blissful salvation?

©Shankar D Mishra    20.01.2017

The Power Of Love

THE POWER OF LOVE

Love is too subtle for the soiled eyes to behold
Love can turn common gravels into uncommon gold
Love can make despicable cowards brave and bold
Love is not a viable commodity to be bought and sold.

Love is the soothing shower in a dreary desert
Love is unknown to the insensitive and pervert
Love is a perennial river too unfeasible to revert
Love is an unshakably firm and sacred knot.

Love can set fire of warmth on callousness of water
Love can fill life’s deep, unseen and irreparable crater
Love in a polar region is a cozy, comforting sweater
Love is able enough to turn loyal, a terrible traitor.

Love can make bitterness of distrust sweet
Love can propel the dumb to sing and tweet
Love can bait the rebellious to hug and greet
Love can turn the gloomy niches enviably lit.

Love can squeeze parched rocks to tasty water yield
Love can lull a fallow land to be a green corn field
Love can bless the lovers with many a protective shield
By love all incurable maladies can be in a trice healed.

Thus, let love rule and lead the soured, sullen hearts
Let love cleanse the unwelcome, obstinate, carnal dirts
Let love revive and restore the lost mirth and reliance
Let love reunite the true lovers to rejoice and dance.

©Shankar D Mishra    22.01.2017

MY Love For You

MY LOVE FOR YOU

Let my love for you be pious deemed
Let my love for you be platonic teemed
Let my love for you be sacred brimmed
Let my love for you be taken trimmed.

My love for you is not tainted by lust
My love for you is not as cold as frost
My love for you is not swayed by gust
My love for you is not meant to rust.

My love for you is not a baby’s toy
My love for you is not bug and alloy
My love for you is not to suck bestial joy
My love for you is not the love of Troy.

My love for you is a fragrant flower
My love for you is a soothing shower
My love for you is Cherubins’ choir
My love for you is peace pouring bower.

My love for you is as soft as a rose petal
My love for you is as precious as gold metal
My love for you is as nourishing as pure milk
My love for you is as lofty as the Everest peak.

My love will stir you earnestly each passing moment
You will keep inhaling its eternal heavenly scent.
Remorse you will for pitting on my love a bitter dent
And comply with yourself: “He was truly a lover decent.”

N.B: Cherubins means kinds of angels close to God.

©Shankar D Mishra    23.01.2017

You

YOU

You are the need of the hour
You are an invigorating, enlivening shower
You are a bopping, hopping, delicate flower
You are a model modified rare.

You are a personification of Beauty
You are an enviable epitome of Duty
You are a synonym for sweetness
You are past brutal bestial bruteness.

You are my throbbing heart’s constant beat
You are, for the mortal eyes, an immortal treat
You are a sunny shining Spring day
You are a love’s infinite beatific ray.

You are an unbiased mirrior of veracity
You are a temperate breeze of generosity
You are a pain soaking sponge of piety
You are a perfect paragon of purity.

You are a steadily shining guiding star
You are a gift of virtues excellence par
You are a brimmimng overflowing joy jar
Ah! Losing your company is a loss past repair.

©Shankar D Mishra    24.01.2017

These Puns Are Not For Funs

THESE PUNS ARE NOT FOR FUNS

To cease the seize of the seas
Not to raise the rage of the Rays
To wound the wound of the wounded,
Please listen to what the Sage says……..

Please tell the tale of the Tale
Hail the hale who hail dodging the hell
Bell the bell for the Divine Bail
To be blest with the sail to sail through……..

Be a brave Knight at adverse night.
During heyday anyone can fight.
Write the right for the rights of the right
Light the light to see the rare Light………

Stop not until the stop comes
March march until the march of March
Only he prevails when He prevails and blesses
To prevail and see the sea of Eternal Glee………

©Shankar D Mishra    25.01.2017

ON INDIA’S REPUBLIC DAY CELEBRATION

ON INDIA’S REPUBLIC DAY CELEBRATION

Ah! All Indians are raft, feather-light and gay
To celebrate the much sought after Republic Day,
To commemorate the Enforcement of the Constitution
That has been a proven and momentous Milestone.

In 1930, Purna Swaraj, was proclaimed on this very day
In opposition to the Dominion status offer of the British
For two long, painstaking decades we had to wait and stay
Until our most coveted “Guide”, we could accomplish.

A unique value the Republic Day Parades do bear
That herald a firm unity in a stark diversity, and share
Spectacular Defence feats, a rare Rich Cultural heritage;
The Ceremony is, to our freedom fighters, a humble homage.

The President of the country receives the royal Salute
From the para-military and civil Forces, rocky and resolute;
Our Defence prowess and rocky solidarity the pageant does send;
The Beating Retreat Ceremony beguls its ceremonious end.

The Tri- Colour flag is unfurled at all nooks and corners
To the beat of the National Anthem, by the fit successors.
All feel proud as the peacocks relishing the largest Democracy,
For India’s well-being all pary for the Mercurial Divine Mercy.

JAI HIND

©Shankar D Mishra    26.01.2017

Face Value

FACE VALUE

Since time immemorial
Indulgence to the ‘Face Value’ has been in vogue
It is omnipresent; we have been adoring this ‘Rogue.’ –
May it be in the families, the villages
The world, the countries, the states, or the cities
Academies, politics, sports or many other stages
Individuals, communities, races or societies
It is sown, grown, nourished and given care Imperial…..

No one has ever diagnosed and remedied this malady rampant
Nor can any of us, the helpless twigs, has been a triumphant;
For, ‘To survive is to sew up lips and suppress inner voice’
Or else, we’ll be uprooted like wild weeds useless;
Dumped like left over food in the stinky garbage bins
Or trampled upon like, tarred stone chips or green beans
Under the giant, merciless and rash wheels: the demolishers
Of the blind, mighty and biased rollers like rulers!

©Shankar D Mishra    27.01.2017

A Wish To Be More Than Gandhian Monkeys

A WISH TO BE MORE THAN GANDHIAN MONKEYS

 
O God!
Let me see the things that are noble
Let me listen to the things that are noble
Let me utter the things that are noble
Let me do the things that are noble.
 
Ah! Kindly make me more than the Monkeys Gandhian.
To have such a gift on this illusory earth is indeed Elysian!

©Shankar D Mishra    29.01.2017

MASKS

MASKS

Masks are mainly meant for frisks, frolics and funs:
To arouse simulations of a host of subtle emotions
Like scare, fear, fright, panic, shock and horror
Like tickle, prickle, spike, smile, grin and laughter
To hate, loathe, ridicule, scorn, sneer and jeer
To pity, sympathize, empathize and shed tear
To whisper, mumble, murmur, gossip and roar
To acclaim, applaud, cheer, plaudit and adore.

Alas! There are often many facial masks without masks
That beat, outdo, outshine and overshadow the chameleons
In changing their spurious shades and heinous hues
Some are skillfully worn to swindle and hoodwink millions
Some are shrewdly camouflaged to score mean marks
Others are schemed to dash, gash and slash with undue dues.

N.B: The title of this poem was inspired by a Hindi poem “MUKHOTA” composed by Balika Sengupta. Thank u B.S for spurring me with your creation.

©Shankar D Mishra    02.02.2017

LET’S PAY OUR OBEISANCE TO HIM

LET’S PAY OUR OBEISANCE TO HIM

I love this world
My country – India
My State – Odisha
My District – (Jagannath) Puri
My Panchayat – Chalishbatia
My Village – Tadas Ramahans Pur
My teachers
My well-wishers
And My Parents,
For, they have altogether given me birth
Given me strength to walk, play and perform
Given me a peaceful niche to live
Given me chances to learn fathom and earn
Given me love and affection to grow
Given me what I require as a man
Without whose contributions I would’ve been nothing.
Thus, I am indebted to all of them.

But, my admission would be incomplete
If I forget or ignore to mention Him – the Almighty
Who has given birth to all
Who controls all
Who is most merciful to all
Without whose contributions this Universe would be nothing
Let alone others….
Thus, I, we and all are owed to Him past description.

So, let’s all pay our wholehearted obeisance to Him
To keep raining His love
Warding off all adversities
Forgiving His haughty, naughty childish children
And sustaining His unique Creation as usual forever…….

©Dr. Shankar D Mishra, Sr. Lecturer in English, Bhubaneswar, Odisha, India

Contact No. 8249297412

A Rampant Undue "Excuse "

A RAMPANT UNDUE “EXCUSE”

An  unavoidable illness -  as an undue Excuse
Is of no avail and use;
A common sorry - as an undue Excuse
Is its massive misuse.

No Network - as an undue Excuse
Is its abject abuse;
Short of time - as an undue Excuse
Is an offense ignobly huge.

Forgetfulness - as an undue Excuse
Is a shameful shirking in duty;
Next time without fail - as an undue Excuse
Is sooty, grimy and dirty.

Why didn’t you remind me? - as an undue Excuse
Is the best instance of irrationality;
I shouldn’t have done it - as an undue Excuse
Is a gross, grotesque frailty.

I was just about to do - as an undue Excuse
Is an easy, colossal diplomatic depravity;
Oh! I would if I could - as an undue Excuse
Is a silent slap on the pivotal morality.

An excuse merely as an undue Excuse
Is now in an endemic vogue profuse;
A sane-fool neither feels nor knows
Who undoubtedly repents and rues.

Oh! A blatant blunder must I defiantly commit
If bluntly, blandly I say, I am an exception to it;
Won’t I ever be excused for this undue Excuse
For pretending to reduce the rampant, disdainful Queues.

©Shankar D Mishra    03.02.2017