Temple Visitors
Some chatter
At your platter.
For others
On that day you little matter
Some with worries come
Otherwise their visits none.
Teenagers glances
In filth abound
Though bows his head in grace
Thoughts clash in his brain
Newly wedded
Seek blessings for continuance of race.
Old couples seek solace
Touching his mace
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poem by Sanjay Mehta
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Daughter
Witness to
Her jaunts
Others romped.
Undeterred by the glares,
Sailed.........
As no tumult
Was there.
Calm,
Around
Expressions,
In serenity abound
Unrest.....?
Content
No contempt
Relent
No repent
When did she pretend?
Soft palms
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poem by Sanjay Mehta
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Dawn
Not yours, He remarked;
Then whose, I asked;
Charged me with plagiary.
Impose decree, He could not.
The course I could see
Not established,
And the Indian air it was.
Soul reigns supreme on Indian soil,
Physical proportions may it assume.
Thus see his work being appreciated.
The work on which improve he cannot,
Arnold's perfection he can achieve not.
Head high wade through the ‘subway'
Establish and add to the Indian air.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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Barber's Shop
Wait for turn
But deep within
A desire
To be out of turn
Observe
When converse
Very fine points emerge
Earthy dialogue
Earthy, viable solutions
Far from
Quotes of high flying commissions
Which gather dust
And when brushed
Set ablaze
The entire nation.
In the background
Soothing music
Child playing truant with the mirror
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poem by Sanjay Mehta
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Earthquake
Young heart was the king,
Puerile was the spring
The bees were sucking to nature's luring.
But suddenly
The dusk came too early
Thundering clouds raced to the field
Played with the sun and wind
White to black and a fight
Then red!
The young ones wept and we slept.
The dawn was clear
There were no tears
It was luncheon
My stomach shook the whole earth
A noise was heard on the white top
The earth hurt in pain
A new earth was born
In holy land of ours.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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Euphoria
After the showers
The sky is clear
Where ever eyes traverse
Everything is crystal clear
The mountains
Look majestic as never before
Fixed where they were
But closer they appear
Mystical air envelopes them
Scattered clouds
Add to the beauty
Rejuvenating the libido
With thoughts travelling not beyond those majestic looks
As just before a baby is born
The mother
Is enveloped
With mystical powers
Each movement of hers
Crystal clear
And majestic in content.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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50th Independence Anniversary
With pomp
Will storm
The next century
‘Selfless' politicians stake
Fifty years thence
When liberty commenced
Half the populace
Under weight of illiteracy bent
Some lift their heads
The medivial warlord
Snatches their crunch
Under the weight of mighty state
Play truant
Chaos create
Fill their tummies
Which never inflate
In one stroke
Can claim
Precious life
Freely can move around
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poem by Sanjay Mehta
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Mirage
So boldly though stand there on the precipice;
No shade no wind
Barren they say.
Lack they those looks which beauty see.
Thou conscience I can see
Your garments stripped by atmosphere you see
Mans lust laid your skeleton bare.
Fools look inside the womb;
Its arms hug the mother tight
Which gives you the life
On which you tread, He embraces that.
Proudly he stands there head high.
The ethic more noble than it's height.
Cultivate those looks which beauty see
Insane things may teach you more.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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Death
Death is a pleasant term!
Yes is normal course
Leave this world for a better world
All the experience pays
The breathing ones always talk of your deeds, but good
For them the void will never be bridged
Normal death is an ideal
In our holy Bharat
In our holy Bharat
Satan is all pervading.
His, His arms have been cut
His senses rust
Then why give him so much thrust
To bear all the brunt
Pray not for him, built not for him
Hypocrisy is all this
Pray for your actions
Pray for your work
Pray for your natural death
So pleasant in the end.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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Bus Stop
Little black strip, meandering through the valley's and dales;
Cut through the huge mountains and meadows lush green.
Lifeline it is—no romanticism
Serpentine it looks through ariel looks
Serpentine it is those who wait in the early hours
Young and old and of course in the age group of ours
Stare eagerly on either side
Wait eagerly for the real lifeline
And when it comes at last
A wave of human race with their lives at stake
Young one's wriggling through the legs
Experience stands at bay
Unwillingly watching the two generations fight
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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