From Winamop.com

New poems by Vivekanand Jha.

 


Hands Heave to Harm and Hamper

 

Our hands heave
To harm and hamper,
Not to help and heal.

Not to assist
The damsel in distress
Instead feel refresh
In molesting mistress.

Not to weaken
The woes of widows
But apt to weaken
Their only credos.

Not to stop
The rape
But we are top
In viewing the naked tape.

We have destitution
In deleting the prostitution
But we are to the fore
In bargaining the whore.

Not to prohibit
The child labour
But not hesitate to inhibit
Their favour.

Not to curb
The poverty
But ready to disturb
The Poor’s liberty.

We use stick
To persecute the weak
We use flower
To adorn the tower.

Not to ameliorate
Law and order
But not fret to generate
Chaos and disorder.

We have temptation
To incur evil reputation
But we have palpitation
In getting good inspiration.

We praise
When our hands raise
To tarnish and damage
The image of sage.

We neglect
The existing institution
But we accept
The amendment of constitution.

What a relief!
If our hands heave
To leave
Harm and hamper
But to help and heal.

 

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Happy! Happy! New Year

 

Happy! Happy! New Year
Enjoy without fret and fear
Drive yourself in top gear
Make even your foe dear
Hug your friends who are near.

This year shouldn’t have any peer
Colour of ecstasy is to smear
We should tolerate and bear:
If unwarranted things hear
Enjoy reading Shakespeare’s King Lear.

This day comes in year bare
Forget the life’s wear and tear
Don’t be lonely and despair
Enjoy with family and in pair.

Take part in picnic and fair
Jokes and bantering are to share
In the temple offer prayer.

It is the occasion rare
After digging the 365 layers
Wish to all for cure and care.

Not to kill decency and demeanour
But to kill sin and sinner
Not stand and stare at the river
But to be an adept diver
For the needy be depriver.

Wherever reach the ear
There is one and only flare
Happy! Happy! New Year.

 

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Let me live even in the dark

 

You keep with you your creative art
Even though you don’t help me to start
Yet I will try to play my part
In the face of the reality stark
My only request to you to mark:
I don’t need your brilliant spark
If you let me live even in the dark.

You keep with you your Eden Park
I will request you to hark:
I would be happy with my Jurassic Park
If you let me live even in the dark.

Although your journey upon the sea embarks
You keep with you your witty remarks
Sated with the pond I will accomplish my task
If you let me live even in the dark.

You enjoy pampering in the lark
I needn’t your euphony, your skylark
I’ll be contended with my cacophonic bark
If you let me live even in the dark.

 

* * * * *

 

Intolerance

 

There was a world
When pen was mightier than the sword
This is now the world
Of the sword
Giving the degree third
To the scholar writing foreword

Men fight over nonsense
They know no tolerance
As they colour their hands with blood stains
For a penny and pence.

Men are ready to murder
Without thinking what will happen further
They defy the almighty’s order
Of living all together

Now man is measured by a different parameter
Radius is no more half of the diameter
One is known by how much he earns
Not by how much he learns.

Thank God! God is really clever
Not to allow anybody to live for ever
So it is time to mend our ways
Let good sense prevail now or never.

 

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Trauma of Terror

 

Wherever eyes go, we sigh to see
Be it a day or hours wee
In the mud we find our knees
Thunderous voice rends the ears
Two little eyes dipped in the ocean of tears
Tender soul is infected with fear
Life is nothing but error
Teeming with trauma of terror.

God made comely creature
Apart from the lovely nature
Man made it a field
With red bloodshed filled.

Life is endless tale of peril
In the hands of the devil
No one wants to take a risk
So the corps takes to frisk
By working on the tips
This time terror is to rip
In the guise of will o’ the wisp.

We feel insulted on being frisked
Irritation reaches its zenith
Earth revolves the feet beneath
To see the baggage and bag
Treated as a piece of rag.

 

* * * * *

 

The Prime

 

It is time
We are in prime.

It is time
We should shine.
And feel fine.

It is time
We should climb
To destine
And feel cloud at nine.

It is time
We should be sublime
To define
The doctrine.

It is time
We have strong intestine
Ready to dine.

It is time
We should not commit crime
And resign
To any design.

It is time
We should not assign
Meeting clandestine
Lest we repine.

It is time
We should determine
To become Einstein
Or compose rhyme.

 

* * * * *

 

If you be my valentine

 

Though I don’t have
To give you a gold coin
But I have an open
Heart of mine
Though I couldn’t become
Shakespeare or Einstein
But I would never say
You a byline
If you be my valentine.

Though I meet with
So many girls clandestine
I drink beer, wine and cocaine
I watch pornography online
I would leave
All acts of libertine
If you be my valentine.

Though I like to live
In a family combine
So far I have followed
Parents and elders’ guidelines
Parents have been so far
For me an enshrine
But I would leave them
In the state of pains and repine
Not only that, every night
I would offer you compline
And I would serve you
Like a bovine
If you be my valentine.

Though I don’t afford
To travel by airline
My income doesn’t allow
In five star hotel to dine
I have no good house
But only ravine
But I would manage you
Everything, even though
I have to purloin
The assets of others
Or brother uterine
If you be my valentine.

You have become my lifeline
For you I am ready
To do any adulterine
I would swim
Against any streamline
I can define any doctrine
I would fight
Against even flue of swine
If you be my valentine.

I am mad after your grapevine
On your blossom
I want to recline
With you
I want to entwine
Oh my love!
Make my life illumine
And let us surpass
All glories of pristine
By being my valentine.

To my proposals
You don’t undermine
I am determined
To make you my destine
What I would not do
To see you of mine
If you not
Be my valentine

 


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