Poems by L Sr Prasad

Poems by L Sr Prasad



By my spouse and if that’s what everyone thinks and you are absolutely right!
You know perfectly clear that your partner snores and you don’t even in the worst night,
It is the divine gift how you solve problems of the other one, how you maintain this house!
Often you wonder, what would have happened to this idiot if you weren’t the spouse?

Look at all the polymaths their tutelary deities are genii, they make their persons unique,
By the time of the emperor Augustus, genius is symbolic talent and inspiration specific!
They are different and suggest solutions in a flash like lightning and ingenious at that!
Historiometry is filled with child prodigies and adult achievers with a splash of bipolar hat!

Like El Greco or Hemingway you can declare -‘Good artists do not do like that,’-
But you have your own style and conception and with a pinch of full moon effect!
Look at van Gogh, Tyson, Virginia Woolf, Nash Junior and Ernest Hemingway!
If you don’t find any similarity, ask a shrink to elaborate on this topic straight away!

Yes! We are all da Vinci, Sappho, Mozart, Kant, or Alberti’s Renaissance man!
Like Galileo, al Beruni, Lomonosov, Howard Baker you are misunderstood often!
Johannes Factotum you are not but master of many arts and a gift to mankind!
Robert Greene referred this term-‘ jack of all trades’- to Shakespeare, see his mind!

One day i am sure the whole world will honour you high and then also don’t worry,
If your spouse says how an idiot like you got this, then also don’t do any thing in a hurry!



The stage is set for the political overtures of the poets in Baroque innovations,
Everywhere orchids smiled with roses, daisies, petunias, pansies and carnations!
The concert master is ready for the basso continuo on a harpsichord and pipeorgan!
Woodwinds, brass, percussion and strings with attached humans are ready with paper and pen- gun!

Two flutes, two oboes, two bassoons are swooning in lip pressing,
Two natural horns and two natural trumpets are embracing their own trumpeting,
A Timpani, a few silent drums, cymbals, and tambourines are in up and down moving,
Violins, viola, violoncello and double basses are ready to make violent heaving!

The concert master has started the introductory tuning and the flowers sighed,
The main trumpet man maneuvered his brass horns and trumpets and the flowers bloomed,
The timpani player per -cussed in inviting crescendo and decrescendo, flowers enjoyed,
The string players in unison sashayed with bows on strings all the flowers swooned!

O poet! How do you conduct your words, feelings, emotions and meters into a poem?
O Great God! How you conduct the orchestra of the whole universe with such love in freedom!



We have learnt many lessons from green trees, blue seas, dark airs and red fires!
But I have yet to see tolerance, mercy, peace and love, flowering on violence wires!
People and philosophers construct towers of happiness in mid-air and deep mires,
When the basements are built with wars and weapons, inbuilt peace soon expires!

In sparse thickets and concrete jungles greed and gluttony rules,
Guns ride cars and raid innocents of their honesty and freedom tools,
Poor and helpless become daily asses, donkeys, camels and mules,
To carry the burden of rich and famous on their shoulder stools!

A few braves think about common good,
And they jump into parasols of black wood,
In the lawless jungles they think of Robin Hood,
Hounds and hawks bite them to martyr hood!

Where are you, O tears?
Dried in blood, O dears!

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