My Select Poems

For Suzanne in Lebanon

Shall I compare thee to a pretty qasida or a lingering sonnet?
Thou art lovelier than either and yet, a poetic puzzle:
Perhaps you are a Shadorma or a Sestina in a cute bonnet;
No, you must be more than a poem, a song, a lovely ghazal…
Poor time, splits hairs in despair, as pretty lasses have fallen
In high towers cowering before their limpid mirrors blue;
The seasons too have a bone to pick, for you have stolen
Their thunder, as sunshine seems to have been smitten by you.
Are you a dream, a vision, an illusion or a vixen dear,
Many are wont to ask - Is there one so heavenly divine
walking on this earth in plain sight of humans mere?
To them I say – These eyes have seen this angel fine
From up, close: I’ve heard her speak, smile and engulf
worlds -and this pretty picture is a poor shadow of her true self….

With due apologies to Shakespeare

-----



To Sarai M Shah

When you can read …



Every day of your life, he is here.  Your father – the inimitable Mitul Shah, smiling -

And grinning impishly as he sees you pull your tantrums with your Mom today;

Laughing with joy as he sees you  tread to school, sing your first rhymes, filing

Memories of you as you grow: He is here as you blow out the candles on your birthday-

Singing softly a birthday song just for you – If you felt something on your cheek and chin,

That was your dad kissing you and bidding you the best of everything in the world’s sway:

Proudly he watches you top your batch, climb steadily from class to class, growing akin

To a pretty princess, as you really are – for your dad was a king in every way, of a realm

Large, loved and respected by all – never short of company or words, always ready

With a helping hand. He watches now as always – you are a lucky gal at life’s helm;

You have a father doubling as a guardian angel too - Always close by: In flesh represented

By your gentle Mom, uncles legendary, grandparents loving and a host of friends:

So as you grow and see the world, when you feel sad for the lack of your loving dad, remember –

He doesn't like to see you so. He is here now, like always. Smiling widely and very proud of you…




Just Forbidden

This is life -live it well, he said to the man and the woman, giving them a run

Of paradise: This is your home, your kingdom, yours to do as you please: have fun

Be of good cheer; romance the rivers and the mountains: chase the sun

Across the skies: Do as you please –love, multiply, live, but for condition only one

-See that tree by the river, he said, -hidden and away from the rest, all said and done,

Stay away from the tree, -further away from the fruits that so lovingly beckon;

They are not for you. Why? –They are not for you -or you, they are just forbidden.

The kingdom lay in front of their gaze, wonderful and inviting, the souls had won

Heaven without a price. This is not life, this is not everything, said the woman

-Agreed the man. Of what use this heaven, this paradise, this lovely garden of Eden

if we are kept away from the most precious of all? All through night, day and morn,

They allowed their thoughts, their needs, desires and longing to ferment and churn

And soon thereafter, led by their right, they did it and then, when the deed was done

They knew it was just another fruit, made so much sweeter in it being just forbidden.



But, Naturally!

Nature is the bloody culprit, the nemesis of hearts, the puppeteer supreme:

She abhors vacuums, oh she does! The universe she’s filled and nothing's grim,

Days and nights, flowers, and noisy children: Colouring everything in sight

And out of: Perfect, without a fault tiny, even dotting up for a starry night.

Nature’s set the game rolling, of making even pairs, in life and without,

Two of everything to set life moving, a million sure - but paired no doubt.

She does not idly sit and watch life wither away – she’s there perfecting

Her spells’ incarnate, touching up skills: Frail mortals flail, easy prey dissecting

Hearts and minds, catalyzed with robust visions, showing off myriad hues,

Entranced, emboldened, the wise and the fool succumb to cloned views:

Nature’s got no faults, none: nothing’s too soon, too early, too big or too small,

She's pretty, cruel -a finicky bitch, a sprightly witch: She’s a woman, after all.

Nature’s the perpetuator wily: hearts in vacuum, music-less souls, a living without grace,

Flesh, bones ready to recreate, she spies, waves her wand and all falls into place.



That Funny Feeling!

Love - that funny little feeling - making everything seem nicer: inducer

Of hallucinations wonderful, converting moments simple into eternal bliss.

Eliciting emotions elevated and unparalleled –making a winner of every loser,

Evoking passions frenetic and unprovoked, dispelling gloom, eclipsing this

And that –the harsh rigours of life. Love –splendid, joyful and comical

Bringing immeasurable happiness without a cause but just a lingering thought

Of the beloved: the love and the longing –now controlled, now hysterical:

Love –a billion poems, written, lyrics romantic sung, stories told by rote

Pushing life along –woven in dreams silken, spun in velvety promises, true

And false: Love –that magical feeling, transcending life, death and a living;

Mixer of souls, creator of fusion holy between flesh and bones: Holder of the clue.

The reasons for living: Love – eternal and consumable, lovable and giving:

How I wish I could go on loving - lesser than I am loved – never little, but forever,

Unacknowledged, passion ebbs, emotions die and heaven rues with the lost lover...



The Last Hail Mary?

Her dark eyebrows

are like

rivers

gleaming in the night

Circling the fabled cities

of Xanadu