Posts Tagged ‘verse’

Butterfly on the Moon

April 26, 2018

Nonsense verse inspired by Kesava Murthy, who wondered how much a butterfly would weigh on the moon

Thought the butterfly as she flitted over the moon,
“I can’t stay here, I’ll have to leave soon.
It is a matter that’s sad to state
But on this place, alas, I have hardly any weight.
How can I lay eggs or perpetuate my race
If I can’t even land but float off into space?
Alas!” she added, ” I may be over the Moon
But it’s the worth of the Earth that is my greatest boon.”

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White-bordered Copper, Binsar, Uttaranchal, 150418

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In the water, in the sun, Lalbagh, 090418

April 9, 2018

Put your head out of the water.
Get a bit of sun.
Try to get some breakfast…
Without becoming one!

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Lalbagh, 9 Apr ’18

Location, location, location!

January 11, 2018

Where, oh, where can I say that I saw
In the capital city of Karnataka….
Those rare ornithological specimens that I click.
Usually not in the city, but far!

I worry, you see, that others might spy
And click …and disturb…those beautiful birts.
But I don’t want to keep the location to myself.
So of course,I say, “Bangalore Outskirts.”

Whether it’s the hills, the forests or the valley
Or any of the few remaining lakes…the wirts
That are written under those superb photographs, are always
Those teasing ones: “Bangalore Outskirts”.

Bangalore-for-birders is a shy maiden: Not for her
Those see-through tees or off-the-shoulder shirts.
You may get only a peep at some shy part of a birt
Under those far-reaching “Bangalore Outskirts”.

So I feel happy I’m sharing the info with the world
Of fellow Bangalore-birders till it hurts:
But still I know I will never give away
The actual location of those “Bangalore Outskirts”.

I rest easy in mind; I am the only ethical birder.
All the rest of them are irresponsible disaster-alerts.
Let them try to find the bird I found! I defy them
By telling them I found it in the “Bangalore Outskirts”.

Words of wisdom

August 8, 2017

He who knows, and knows he knows…
He is a sage: Seek him.
He who knows, and knows not he knows…
He is asleep: Wake him.
He who knows not, and knows he knows not…
He is a child: Teach him.
He who knows not, and knows not he knows not…
He is a fool: Shun him.

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Votive stones, Thotti Kallu Falls, 160717

June 8, 2017

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When the sky boils over
In shades of scudding grey
When the clouds talk loudly to each other
I wonder what they say?

Do they like to light up the place
Where they are around?
Do they decide upon the spot and then
Zap electricity to the ground?

Do they peal out with such loud thunder
To give us folks a jolt?
Perhaps they feel quite gleeful
When we jump at lightning bolts!

It’s quite easy to feel happiness
When it’s a fleecy, blue-sky cloud.
We feel much more overawed and quiet
When the cloud lights up, and cracks aloud.

The title refers to

an eponymous movie by Satyajit Ray

Raindrops

March 12, 2017

Inside her little box of an apartment
Lies the elderly woman,
While I tell her about the rain
That is wetting the roads
Outside. Confined to her bed,
She cannot even move
To the window, without help,
To look at the few drops
Falling from the sky.
The plants she has in pots
Cannot feel the rain, either.
All they can get
Is the “filtered water”
Whenever the sullen maid
Remembers them.
The woman is able
To have a roof over her head…
But some simple joys,
Like savouring the raindrops
Which wet that roof,
Are beyond her,
Small deprivations
Can sometimes be big ones.

Raindrops

March 7, 2017

Inside her little box of an apartment
Lies the elderly woman,
While I tell her about the rain
That is wetting the roads
Outside. Confined to her bed,
She cannot even move
To the window, without help,
To look at the few drops
Falling from the sky.
The plants she has in pots
Cannot feel the rain, either.
All they can get
Is the “filtered water”
Whenever the sullen maid
Remembers them.
The woman is able
To have a roof over her head…
But some simple joys,
Like savouring the raindrops
Which wet that roof,
Are beyond her,
Small deprivations
Can sometimes be big ones.

I reflect…

March 7, 2017

What if the reflections
Of faith and belief, in my soul,
Are different from yours?
I might see a temple in the glass;
You might see a church spire.
Should we then fight
And argue and shed blood
Over what is right and wrong?
Surely, all these paths and reflections
Lead but to the innermost soul
Where resides the Force, the Being
That we believe in…both you and I.

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Forms of poetry and verse

March 2, 2017

My friend Janet asked for 10 prompts about which she would write haikus.

To this, someone asked:

“Yeh haiku kaiku?” (Why this haiku?)

And my response was:

When we cannot think
Straight, or write words as is done–
We pen a haiku!

To this Chiddu said:

I love to ride my bike-u
This is my 1st two line haiku!

and I responded with a limerick:

When we talked of haiku
And someone asked, “Yeh kaiku?”
Though you made a bhool
And you broke the rule
Your haiku on baiku…I laiku!

(bhool=mistake in Hindi)

I love bu**-shi##ing in verse!

To live without love

February 9, 2017

Who will drop loving kisses
On the cheeks of motherless children?
Who will hug them, tease them, scold them,
Tickle them, cuddle them, laugh with them?
Children need food and sleep…
And so much more, to thrive.
I sing two little children to sleep.
Tears fall from my eyes as I think
Of every child without parents in this world.
The refugees, the orphans, the lost children….
Surely the greatest cruelty in our world
Is to let children live…. without love.

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Chennai, 041216