19/07/2011
18/07/2011
13/07/2011
WE ARE THE WORLD(?)
WE ARE THE WORLD(?)
It is just another morning,
There's a sweet languor still over me,
My headphone is on as usual ,and,
Michael Jackson is slowly alighting in my ears;
My fingers operate 'the remote' as a ritual,
And before my still sleepy and heavy eyes
The TV opens the whole world to me
Through the vapours of steaming morning coffee...
Violence,murders,rapes and arson,
The gory scenes of terrific terrorist attack,
Big buildings blown off by brutal bomb-blast,
The streets littered with bloodied bodies,
Limbs and torsos scattered everywhere
Which belonged just some moments ago
To the innocent and peaceful and merry people..
The wails of the sirens of the ambulances,
The anguished cries of the survived few...
All this reaches through the eyes and ears,
Still the morning coffee doesn't taste bitter,
Nor does Michael Jackson sounds a bit less sweeter,
He is still crooning,'We are the world'....
We are the world(?).....
......PORTIA
(my dear people of India,my heart goes out to you!
Oh, you are the most suffering people and the most
sinned against.But still you are also the most courageous!
God be with you! This poem of mine is a salute to your courage,
and I am ashamed of myself that I can't do anything for you
other than write a poem....)
......PORTIA
It is just another morning,
There's a sweet languor still over me,
My headphone is on as usual ,and,
Michael Jackson is slowly alighting in my ears;
My fingers operate 'the remote' as a ritual,
And before my still sleepy and heavy eyes
The TV opens the whole world to me
Through the vapours of steaming morning coffee...
Violence,murders,rapes and arson,
The gory scenes of terrific terrorist attack,
Big buildings blown off by brutal bomb-blast,
The streets littered with bloodied bodies,
Limbs and torsos scattered everywhere
Which belonged just some moments ago
To the innocent and peaceful and merry people..
The wails of the sirens of the ambulances,
The anguished cries of the survived few...
All this reaches through the eyes and ears,
Still the morning coffee doesn't taste bitter,
Nor does Michael Jackson sounds a bit less sweeter,
He is still crooning,'We are the world'....
We are the world(?).....
......PORTIA
(my dear people of India,my heart goes out to you!
Oh, you are the most suffering people and the most
sinned against.But still you are also the most courageous!
God be with you! This poem of mine is a salute to your courage,
and I am ashamed of myself that I can't do anything for you
other than write a poem....)
......PORTIA
A TIPPLER...(POEM)
A TIPPLER!.......
Yes, I am a tippler,always making merry,
Who drinks the liqueur distilled in the Nature's brewery,
Where the bees and butterflies bring in the honey
Collected from the roses,foxgloves and peony.
Which is then brewed in the morning dew
Sent by Diana from her heavenly blue,
And some stardust is also added to it
To make the concoction more intoxicating.
Seraphs then gather around to propose the toast,
"Cheers,girl, you are our dear sibling!"
Getting drunk and giddy, I lean on the sun,
Who becomes moon-cold to join in the fun!
........PORTIA
Yes, I am a tippler,always making merry,
Who drinks the liqueur distilled in the Nature's brewery,
Where the bees and butterflies bring in the honey
Collected from the roses,foxgloves and peony.
Which is then brewed in the morning dew
Sent by Diana from her heavenly blue,
And some stardust is also added to it
To make the concoction more intoxicating.
Seraphs then gather around to propose the toast,
"Cheers,girl, you are our dear sibling!"
Getting drunk and giddy, I lean on the sun,
Who becomes moon-cold to join in the fun!
........PORTIA
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