Flute - a triolet

Hollow and holes of bamboo played with air.

Most natural, magical, musical instrument.

Makes melodious the complete atmosphere

Hollow and holes of bamboo played with air.

In hands of Lord Krishna, Hindus wish to be flute.

In tranquillity, ears sense celestial experience.

Hollow and holes of bamboo played with air;

Most natural, magical, musical instrument.

poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Unity is Strength

There’s a proverb
'United we stand divided we fall'
Ten’s sticks together unbreakable
Can be broken easily if given to all.

Wind easily blows the dust
But cannot move the rock;
Birds trapped in net, united,
Along with net, flew the flock.

As well, If people are united
For valid and right cause,
There can't be any reason
Their efforts will pause.

(C) S.D. Tiwari

poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Crossing Fifty

Crossing fifty now,
holding kgs of hundred;
Grey grown head and
glistening forehead.

Climbed peak of hill
now time to slope down;
With several branches
chunky tree is grown.

Putting a step further
at stair of growing old;
Celebrating golden jubilee
fifty years behold.

Amassed the ruggedness,
experience, knowledge;
To surrender to the world
carrying responsibilities.

poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Sun's yellow

Sun, s yellow grow,
yellow seedlings green;
Unless present the sun
photosynthesis not seen.

Green leaves change to
yellow in autumn;
Longer goes for rest
shorter present the sun.

Leaves paint landscape
in sun, s presence;
Chlorophyll goes green,
carotenoids orange.

Intensity of the sun
lot to bear on weather;
Land, s wetness goes
human sweats in summer.

[...] Read more

poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Beauty - a state of mind

Every thing has beauty
Till see the portion of ugly.
Beauty is state of mind
Beauty is what’s pleasing;

Conception, perception
And attraction,
Intelligence, elegance
and emotions,

Beautiful things made
Of the ugly garbage
By systematic and
Symmetric arrangements.

I hate the mud but
Like the statues made of it
I dislike her way of talk
But like smiling lips.

[...] Read more

poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Sharing tiffin

I love to share with my friends
our knowledge, games and fun.
Whenever we got free time
seek to bask together in sun.

What I liked most in my class
tiffin brought by friends, to share.
Fortuned to get variety of taste and
co-operation in mutual affairs.

I felt her mom, the best cook,
friend described best my mother.
All bakes and cakes we brought
in the school we ate together.

poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Cook

Farmer, s hands produce grains,
cook, s hands make it food;
Art of delivering delectableness
that can drive the mood.

Delighting the souls through
his talent of preparing dishes;
by ingredients, proportion, heat,
process and his creativeness.

A painter of savour, painting
luscious picture with zeal,
Tongues see panoramic view
of taste, hearts pleased to feel.

(C) S. D. Tiwari

poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Genuine Poets Are Brave

I can bravely say that genuine poets are brave
They go along, dawn to sun set, birth to grave.
To fight a war, they don’t need bullet or sword
There arm and ammunition is, their bold word.

They fire the bullets of word, evoke warriors;
Transform battle into victory, fought by fighters.
Poets’ bravery is, enthuse warriors and inspire
Their words extinguish too, the war that on fire.

poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Cooking of corruption

(No) , I told you no
Sir, find the way to do

(Not possible) as per rules
Sir, you can over rule

(I cannot do) , see the restrictions
U have powers to get it done

(I will not) , there’s checking
Sir, I will do some thing

(I will see) , what could I do
Tell Sir, how can I serve you

(It can be) , you have to pay
I will pay whatever u say

(Will be done) , do not worry
Cooked, Hurrah!

poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Unlucky house for sale - a fun

A very unlucky house the owner has,
He married sixth but all passed away.
He cannot afford to relinquish the seventh,
To shift to elsewhere he has given assent.

House is ruled by six vampires and an owl,
Woman living there will have to give her soul.
For sale by owner, is now the house;
Man wanting to make, vampire his spouse
Give his best offer at an early date,
If not in seven days, it will be late.

S.D. Tiwari

poem by S.D. Tiwari
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