As You Have No Wings
As you have no wings,
I am cutting down mine to please you.
Then we shall snail or walk together
With our eyes fixed at destinations unknown!
You could have told me once
Not to develop wings for myself,
You could have told me twice
That you have had no wings ever.
My wings were my power
Ever have I felt so for long.
But as I cut down them now for you,
My dear, I know I am crippled.
Your limbs have no agility!
Your eyes have no vision!
Your sole hope is me, I know.
But crippled I am!
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poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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A Little Teacher
At times a little teacher stands before me
With a smiling face.
And her sweet mouth speaks
Things I have never heard.
A cute girl of early teens,
A teacher of principles self imposed.
In her class I am the lone pupil
And she teaches me ever.
The chambers of my recollections past
Cry for a change perhaps,
My old teachers fade into oblivion
As my new teacher waits to steal in.
My learning is her choice
Though the subjects taught are none new.
No notes, no admonishing and no comparisons!
I begin to learn the mind of a growing child.
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poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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A Balloon For You All
I want to give you, my dear friends,
A balloon of your choice and colour
So that you will play with it
Your sweet face blooming like a rose.
But you are overgrown
Overgrown like never before!
Some are like Goliaths and some resemble the unknown men from Kob.
Some look like overgrown convent girls and a few are like the Amazons.
I want to sell my balloons at any cost
For my balloons are about to burst any moment.
Once you begin to play with them
I am relieved a lot; who cares for your tears?
I tell a man with salt and pepper on head,
`Buy one balloon and play with it for a while`.
He laughs at me and chases a young girl.
My balloons begin to burst.
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poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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catch Them Young' I Say..
I will blend two minds and will shout aloud
To the world, ' Here is the final human mind'.
I will infuse two hundred passions in to it and will sing aloud
To the throngs, 'Here is a mind that sans no glory heard ever'.
I will invent two million ordinary mortals and will speak
To their hearts, ' Here is your role model to frame a mind still'.
I search for the minds to be blended
And many minds flash before my eyes.
I like none - 'All are too narrow', I tell.
I search for the minds once again
And many more minds flash by, none appealing.
An agony strikes me, 'Where are those great minds? '
A millenium passes,
In the drought of mothers who give birth to none great
My blending dreams remain as a mirage
And I begin to write an elegy on the death of minds.
In the inner self of my mind that can never be blended with any other
A nightmare roams with all its scaring images.
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poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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When My Mathematics Teacher Died...
When he died, I felt no pain
Anywhere in my heart at any point of a second,
Our Mathematics teacher was a terror, you don`t know.
He was an odd man of wrong proportions.
When he was born no comets were seen.
Still he weilded the wand of power, a big rod
And tortured the young skins, I remember still.
He was like a Briton on the Indian land.
Mathematics was like a running stream in the section next.
And there our equals had a great Master with wits.
They enjoyed the lines, the triangles and the numbers.
They were little lambs and he the shepherd resurrected.
We were literaly like circus animals
Under him we were covering ever.
Even the gentle girl who scored well grudged him.
We were the Jews and he Hitler the second.
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poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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A Veiled Mind
A mind too can be veiled
The truth strikes the terrains of prudence.
'You begin your search and you will be hailed
By most minds veiled with cadence'!
A man man sitting near a fire
Announces the severity of the chill
But knows it is not that cold rare.
The innocent fire burns on for him still.
A woman sulking at her man`s beast within
Cries for the glimpse of liberation spoken of
But denounces the samaritan at once soothing.
The beast triumphs over the preys born of.
A small child sits in the lap of the old granny
Sings into her ears an elegy on the separation ahead
But walks with the parents spiritedly to the world of fancy.
The old granny moans for her return never ahead.
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An Army Of Pathos
An Army of pathos
Marches on into the plains of our lives.
Hungry kids, dead grannies and forsaken huts...
There were life and laughter once.
No agendas die, the politician who learnt at the Oxford repeats,
'Don`t panic, things will be alright soon'.
How can he sleep tonight?
An Army of flickering hopes
Struggles to bring solace to the masses.
Soaring summer heat and reports of sunstrokes...
There were still such times not so bad!
No enjoyments are called off as the haves still chill out their lives,
Let the drowning ones go deep, the survivors must rejoice.
How will this phase come to an end?
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The Real Man Within A Man
The man within every man
Is an actor of all sorts.
All across the continents
And well beyond the seas he is the same.
While announcing his sweet love
He often twists with lust like a bow
While pretending to speak to the lady with a heart
His eyes scale up and down her physique like a rat.
Man has ever been a creature of all seasons.
Dear women, I am afraid your dreams are just woven
On the filaments of man`s foibles unknown.
Dear women, exceptions if any, are too just shadows without Objects!
He is shrinking in size and strata.
Augustus the king and Abraham Lincoln the icon are no more.
We have around us only a multitude of men
And they are just the ghosts of slain virtues.
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The President`s Triumph 2
Dear Mr President,
Some of us said it way back in September
That you would come back
And you have indeed!
Virginia and North Carolina stood by you,
Mitt Romney`s strong holds surprised you
A passion for you in the soft minds rose high for you
And you have made it.
The Middle Class and the worn out too stood with you,
The homeless and the jobless stood with you,
The taxes have to favour them for long
And you have to remember them ever.
Four more years of office and its challenges,
Mounting concerns on out-sourcing of human resources,
Handling the G8 woes and much more await you
And you have to be a more vibrant President now.
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poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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The' Magicians' Of Our Times
We live in a world of magicians
All around us.
They are the magicians of the kind
Who don`t make a living but mar many a life.
A magician is seen among our 'dear' friends,
Yet one more among our 'close' relatives,
Then is seen another among our rulers
The last one emerges from our well wishers and colleagues.
Every magician wears a cap with no feathers thereon
And he barks at us like a dog often.
We remain calm and quiet with reason dead
And our fall begins to depths infinite.
The magicians hold a wand with a curve at the end
And our heads are held within and soon pulled close to them.
The magicians ask us to spare our valuables for every show
And they pound them to powder many times.
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