Poems by S. L. Peeran

Poems by S. L. Peeran
 
 
Elusive Peace
 
So long as war mongering Nations
Exist with production of war machinery,
Peace appears to be impossibility
Let wars cease to bring in peace.
Man should shun his animalistic nature.
Peace appears to be a distant cry.
Let us keep hoping as poets for peace
To return at least in our lives.
Only love and affection
Can win hearts of human beings.
 
 
 
Free from worldly mirth
 
Floating and waltzing in the mystical world.
Away, away far from maddening crowd.
From the din of the worldly affairs.
Escaping from the wrath of law makers,
From rulers foisting false sedition cases.
My senses now appears free from jaundiced eyes.
The vision is crystal clear free from vice.
Purity dawning on my heart and mind.
The soul taking wings to soar higher,
To reach the heavenly Apollo
And in the waiting arms of Venus.
To feel ever thrill and realize beauty.
Truth and love celestial gifts embracing me.
Drawing my being in ecstasy and joys
 
 
 
Ultimate Result
 
For them living in style, in aristocracy
With puffed up cheeks, high noses
Is only way to live with pinnacle of success.
Unmindful of company they live with.
‘Moksha’, ‘Nirvana’ is too distant cry,
Invisible, like mirage unattainable
Meaning of struggle is unknown.
Born with silvery spoons, they shun
Poverty ridden men of straw, uncouth.
For them, they do not exist any more
Force of gravity pulls down what goes up.
‘Path of glory leads but to the grave’
 
 
 
Nature’s Wrath
 
“They asked for it, now take it and leave”.
A cry of the rightist, a ruse
To stone, burn their humble dwellings.
To humiliate them, vanquish them,
Erase them from the ancient map
Which has flowing Saraswati, Cauvery
With rich architectural konark.
Depicting in stone “Kamasutra”.
Dancing damsels, beauty displayed
With enormous illustrated history.
Yet unmindful of natural disasters
Of volcanic eruptions, tsunamis,
Depleting ozone layers, dwindling forests
Destruction of culture surely
Will vanquish everyone forever
Chilling poverty freezing the poor.
 
 
Ultimate Result
 
For them living in style, in aristocracy
With puffed up cheeks, high noses
Is only way to live with pinnacle of success.
Unmindful of company they live with.
‘Moksha’, ‘Nirvana’ is too distant cry,
Invisible, like mirage unattainable
Meaning of struggle is unknown.
Born with silvery spoons, they shun
Poverty ridden men of straw, uncouth.
For them, they do not exist any more
Force of gravity pulls down what goes up.
‘Path of glory leads but to the grave’
 
 
 
A YEAR HAS PASSED
A year has passed
And your love, your memory
Is still green and fresh
The music has not died down
Your lovely sweet face
Your kindness, your passion
To serve one and all
Your humility, your grace
Won everyone’s heart.
The void created can never be filled.
Every moment your delectable
Voice resounds in my ears.
Tears welling up unabated.
O my love when do we meet again?
When will those bells ring again?
Can that beauty reign again?
Can that love blossom again?
Can those times reappear?
When fountains of love sprang.
When roses never faded.
When fragrances spread
When cheers and dance
Tinkled joys and cheers.
Oh now only gloom
Have spread in my veins.
Look how I am shrinking.
Slowly and steadily to melt
And join you forever.

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