Very hard
Very hard
Parents expressed helplessness
Worry lines could be seen on their face
Further study was beyond their control to afford
I was full of tears and prayed lord
I begged to friends for old books to read
They merely showed scant respect and shook head
It was not only the problem with books but with uniform too
Night had descended on earth only for me and it was true
I saw dark clouds hovering over head
Complete future looked bleak and dead
No help was to come from any corner
Those days were really unforgettable and grimmer
I used to cry in one corner
Curse the luck and saw it as eye opener
One must work very hard for children
Not a little hardship should be faced by them even
I could understand the agony and pain
Parents were helpless to ask me again
I was not blaming them either
I was dear flower to them and brought me up as Gardner
Even though very poor they cared me at every stage
Now it was my turn to change the history and write new page
At whatever consequence I might have to face future course
It must be done bravely to augment some income in their purse
Life mission had become now so important to me
I was to take decision very fairly and free
Parents were now my first priority
They were to me very dear and next to almighty
I preferred service to mother land
Lovely chance to lay down life for holy land
What else can be a chance to be considered as honorable?
Rich or poor can have the same opportunity on table
Uniform gave me sense of pride
There was visible comforts and nothing to hide
World had become large and very wide
I was no poor boy now felt no divide
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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Poor Children
They are the future of humanity
But many of them living in poverty
And without shelter homeless on the street
Searching through rubbish bins for scraps of food to eat.
Poor children are victims of circumstance
In life they never really get a chance
Or have opportunities as privileged children do
The road from the poor suburb to prison leads them to.
From broken homes they are condemned to fail
Their abusive and drug addicted parents serving time in jail
Their parents too homeless in their teen years
On no hope street no laugther only tears.
The Government does not care about those who live in poverty
No political advantage in philanthropy do they see
Their tally men for them have taken note
That few in the poor suburb ever bother for to vote.
Poor children without homes and sleeping rough
And life for them already hard enough
At the wrong end of the social divide
Any chance of a good future to them is denied.
poem by Francis Duggan

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The Children Of Poor And Dysfunctional Parents
The children of poor and dysfunctional parents of any success in life stand little chance
The odds seem stacked against them by their birth circumstance
For them life is an uphill battle a struggle every day
The lady of luck and fortune does never smile their way
Though some wealthy parents can also be dysfunctional it does seem fair to say
That the child born to such parents at least financially will be okay
For those who say money speaks every language are saying what is true
People respect people with money though respect they may not be due,
Pity the poor children who become homeless at a young age and become institutionalized
For most of them their full potential is never realized
In a fair Human World this would never be
By circumstance of birth I feel that good luck was with me
There are millions of homeless children in the World of today
Due to their circumstance of birth in which they had no say.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Should we feel
Should we feel ashamed of poor parent?
Is it the feeling so basic and inherent?
Can we make the difference not apparent?
What should and can be the real intent?
Do we need parents so rich?
Can they take us to highest peak or reach?
Can they make us to read human values?
Do they have any way to find the clues?
Can the poor parents prove to be real hindrance?
Can any one sight even single instance?
Are all big celebrities belonging to or from rich background?
Safe position and fortunes easily found
Poor parent never failed to teach
lessons of simplicity and hard work ready to preach
Never taught disobedience and rules to breach
Stories of fairly tales and not those of witch
May there be some compelling circumstances to yield
insistence for more efforts and hard labor in the field
Never to surrender or yield to pressure
Future for child always assure
It may not be matter of great concern
Can not disassociate self as matter of discern
Certainly Herculean task and very much on hand
Days are far off when child may grow and act as friend
Rich can afford and have an easy access
Relentless efforts for good education with no recess
Rich may prove and excel with his entire source
Poor may face problem but come out with force
Rich and poor really does not matter
Caliber is to be proved on simple platter
Not that rich may only shine
Poor may not leg behind and achieve the fine
Intelligence and personality is not anybody’s domain
Rich may find place and poor outside remain
Opportunities are open and free for all
Hard work and dedication is the final call
Strive so hard to reach on the top
Endless drive or progress non stop
What matters most is brilliant show?
River may remain calm after furious flow
Some of the youngsters blame the parent
For hardship and misery prevalent at present
There is lack of understanding and vision absent
It is like shadow on moon when looks like crescent
Many have come of their own despite being poor
Nothing prevented them from knocking the door
It was zeal and determined efforts to attain
Highest position and dignity to maintain
Good children bring credit to parent
They consider the opportunity as heavenly sent
What matters most is utilization of source?
It may shape the future with available force
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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Pro-life…
I thank my mother,
Who brought me forth
Into the world,
God made, so bold.
And my dear father,
For doing his worth,
To raise me up,
With love-filled cup.
I admire them
For such strong faith,
And duty-minds -
Both rare are finds.
I was their child eighth,
Of ten children!
God blessed them well;
Their work was swell.
But had they stopped with
Just one or two,
Like how some did:
Oh, God forbid!
What lovely parents
They turned to be,
And lived all life,
Despite much strife
If not for them both
What would I be?
-An abortus
Or dead fetus!
The love of Maker,
Good parents give
To children all,
When they are small
Such children bring them
Blessings from God,
And intense mirth,
Right here on earth.
I thank you parents;
I thank you God,
For gift of birth,
And lovely earth.
Just think of parents
Who do abort,
Against God’s will,
By their weak will.
Their life will be filled
With emptiness;
Their guilt and sins
Makes life non-sense.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-28-2008
poem by John Celes

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The Tears of Masho
She gave her child away
She had AIDS, they say
Her children should have
Parents to care of them
when she by death
should say goodbye to life.
And her dear own child was
sent to adoption
to a far away land, to a land
she had never been before-
A strange paradise
for her child and which
She as mother could not reach
by her bare feet or sandals.
She did not get the
address of the new parents
She could not write
them in her own tongue
She was not even allowed
to see the last glimpse
of her dear own child,
to give her last embrace
and words of goodbye.
And this child, Masho, who
used to be cuddled by her
own dear mother,
cried day and night
in the new land thought to
be a new paradise.
She watered her pillow
with her own tears and longing.
And she could not understand
why she had to leave her
own mother and playmates
in her own village far away
just because her mother
is condemned to die
by AIDS, they say.
_________
Response to the debate of adoption of children in Denmark, to a particular case of the Ethiopian child, Masho. November 27,2012
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen

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Who Must Take Care of Old-aged Parents?
Which child will care for parents when old-aged?
Which child will show compassion and respect?
Which child will find the time to talk kind words?
Which child reciprocates their affection?
Gone are the days of joint family system!
Gone is the sense of values in people!
Gone are the times when blood was quite thicker!
Gone with the wind is honouring parents!
Have parents not showered love on children?
Have they not slogged to give them life's comforts?
Have they not nursed them whenev'r they fell ill?
Have they not done their duties to their kids?
The world today is selfish to the core;
Children just want the wealth of parents old;
None volunteer to tend to old parents;
Children show scarce love to their parents dear!
What has then come upon children today?
Who should take care of parents, elderly?
Should not one's children take care of parents?
Much love seems lost in families these days!
poem by John Celes

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Wholeheartedly
Wholeheartedly, old, yowl, drew, tree, three, hate, lad;
Children, obey your parents in Yahweh;
That it may be well with you,
And that, you may live long on this earth.
Wholeheartedly, whole, hole, woe, where, he, rate, lead;
With instructions in the land of your muse,
But try to be very obedient to all!
Wholeheartedly, heart, dear, read, red, ear, year, ware;
With peace and love in the land of joy!
Children, obey your parents in Yahweh.
Wholeheartedly, are, weed, wed, late, date, wear, doll;
With songs of love and works of peace,
But, try to be very obedient to all in this life.
Wholeheartedly, hold, told, wheat, war, raw, draw;
And like the muse of your love in the land of the living!
Children, obey your parents in Yahweh.
Wholeheartedly, hoe, heat, het, her, had, head, well, led;
And like your works as seen by all!
But, try to be very obedient to the people around you.
Wholeheartedly, lay, ray, tray, day, at, deer, reed, tear;
And like the joy of your muse with others at home! !
But children, try to obey your parents.
Wholeheartedly, heed, heard, world, word, rod, era, rode;
With the muse of the world and the works of your love,
But try to obey others in the land of your muse.
Wholeheartedly, toe, doe, do, to, hare, here, thread, art, thee;
Learn from the right people always to motivate yourselves!
For life is full of laws which are needed by all of us.
Wholeheartedly, yard, hew, threw, low, rat, yell, tar, how?
And like the sweet songs of the lovely birds up high! !
But children, try to obey your parents.
Instruction,
Entreaty,
Boldly,
Obligation;
Children, obey your parents!
And, honour your father and your mother.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Children Should Not Have To Be Homeless
There are thousands of homeless children in Beijing in China though that is not suprising to hear
For where there is a huge population there is poverty too 'twould appear
And China to anywhere else is no different the rich getting richer they say
And just beyond the leafy suburb is the suburb of neglect and decay.
There are thousands of homeless children in New York though with that some may not agree
In America the great Land of commerce no such a thing as poverty?
But the facts of course will tell you differently and in a World of inequality
There too are children homeless and hungry in the so called Land of the free.
There are homeless children in London in England as well as in Paris in France
The poor children of the poor suburb in life they do not have a chance
Their parents in Jail for drug abuse they become the kids of the street
They search the rubbish bins for food in dark alleys and what others do throw out they eat.
There are homeless children in Sydney and Melbourne and anywhere else one might name
Though that does not seem to affect us we never reflect on our shame
That many should have to grow poorer for one to become a millionaire
In a truly egalatarian society would never be looked on as fair.
Children should not have to be homeless though born into abject poverty
They should not be punished for the sins of their parents so much for our humanity
And money to some all that matters and money is married to success
Whilst the children of the poor live homeless on the street of the No Fixed Address.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Sun n Son
Something has gone wrong with meaning of words,
'Sun' and 'Son' beautiful creation of lords,
Both represent energy having sharpness of swords,
Both are crucial for survival and existence of world,
Son is embodiment of energy and power,
Darkness disappears when sun rays appear,
All worship Sun god and offer prayer
Light may appear through clouds from layer
Son is source of great hope and despair,
Damage caused may be more and beyond repair,
Sun renders service which we can't compare,
Rising daily from east and non appearance rare,
Parent pray for sun to have light in home,
Worshiping many Gods and visiting Rome
Hoping lamp in huts to light and shine,
Praying for son to almighty and divine,
Sun may have power with scorching heat,
Son may also show some kind of daring feat,
Each may be scoring and beating record,
One may prove……………………..
Sun may hide face in dark night,
Parents may cry for son during day light,
Daily scuffles on with wordy fight,
Whom do we blame for want of light?
Many may be blessed with intelligent son,
They should always rejoice with simple reason
Greed may run high with aim only gain,
Parent should not keep that only aim
Many parents may not come out and openly speak,
Dryness and worry on face and future seems bleak,
Both are welcome in life and are so dear,
No parent may prefer bad words to hear
We can't afford for loss of any one
Fate may not be same as faced by everyone
The irony of fact remains almost same in nature
We should not blame anybody in near future
Is it an end of life or start of the game?
Do the children take on for simple fame?
Will situation remain for all times to come?
Will they not blame and refuse to welcome
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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Get An Answer
Man is not made known by his richness
But by simple logic of his humbleness
A poor man can be so rich in his heritage
Rest all the qualities come in later stage
“Will you like a glass of water” asked old man
It was scorching heat for any human
I was on way to a another town
Had chosen path of my own
I could read those worry lines
He was still standing on side line
He was no relative but only a stranger
I was much impressed and wanted to know more
This morning only someone had asked me question
What really makes man rich in sense and in relation?
I was in dilemma to answer but it touched inner core
I had to struggle hard for answer and explore
I thought of this old man and got answer
Such qualities may be had by fewer
They are happiest persons in the world
I would be so much lucky if find such safe fold
“Not by what you get but by what you give”
“Not by revenge but how you pardon or forgive”
These were all good signs of richness
This gave me an answer and brought shine on the face
It may necessary to have enough of fortune
Luxury and comfort in life with harmony and tune
Yet it is not everything if we compare to what others have
Kind gesture makes them rich and brave
The life has taught us to be little liberal
We may not spend on causes considered to be noble
Yet turn out and behavior makes it all important
Rich or poor may just be stage but one should not be ignorant
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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A birth and death
Several deaths in single birth and death cycle
all religious books speak the same including Bible
who can deny the existence death probability
that has been made permanently the continuity
Human beings are always guided by emotions
they emerge in the form of innumerable questions
it may strike as everything is at stake for the future
life is uncertain and nothing can be taken for sure
This leads to imagination as how the life would shape
life would move on smoothly or prove as trap
at every stage it may appear as if the end of journey
you may feel very poor even after having enough of money
No one may comfortably say that he is not afraid of death
he may not be in position to proclaim he is weary of wealth
he too may say falsely that he can withstand any type of wrath
he can do all with the simple reason that he does not believe in faith
It has been clearly laid down that death is complete surety
it has to be faced by child, poor, rich or even mighty
it is of no use to loose the ground at every stage
it may be countered if life at every page
Birth is reality and we have been ushered in new world
the life may be shaped by others who will continue to hold
all cards and bring us up in the realistic atmosphere
even though it is full of challenge, agony, pain and fear
it is realized and understood that life can't be brought to an end
we have to adjust to the scenario with little or some amends
how could one thing of bringing it to stage of collapse?
even if he has to face so much hardship and remain tense
It is not bead of roses that you may be heavenly gifted
it is sheer your efforts that may help the standard to be lifted
not all may be lucky to survive the onslaught of fate
some may get the fortune early of life or very late
It is futile to think of death at every moment
you should not fall prey to defeatist tendency or movement
when we know that life is destined for something new
you have to make concerted efforts and renew
One one birth and one death in complete life span
no second thought or idea must work as plan
it will be cowards death every time
this is drawback and will be considered as biggest crime
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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The Author's Early Life
I will write a sketch of my early life,
It will be of childhood day,
And all who chance to read it,
No criticism, pray.
My childhood days were happy,
And it fills my heart with woe,
To muse o'er the days that have passed by
And the scenes of long ago.
In the days of my early childhood,
Kent county was quite wild,
Especially the towns I lived in
When I was a little child.
I will not speak of my birthplace,
For if you will only look
O'er the little poem, My Childhood Days,
That is in this little book.
I am not ashamed of my birthright,
Though it was of poor estate,
Many a poor person in our land
Has risen to be great.
My parents were poor, I know, kind friends,
But that is no disgrace;
They were honorable and respected
Throughout my native place.
My mother was an invalid,
And was for many a year,
And I being the eldest daughter
Her life I had to cheer.
I had two little sisters,
And a brother which made three,
And dear mother being sickly,
Their care it fell on me.
My parents moved to Algoma
Near twenty-three years ago,
And bought one hundred acres of land,
That's a good sized farm you know.
It was then a wilderness,
With tall forest trees abound,
And it was four miles from a village,
Or any other town.
And it was two miles from a schoolhouse,
That's the distance I had to go,
And how many times I traveled
Through summer suns and winter snow.
How well do I remember
Going to school many a morn,
Both in summer and in winter,
Through many a heavy storm.
My heart was gay and happy,
This was ever in my mind,
There is better times a coming,
And I hope some day to find
Myself capable of composing.
It was by heart's delight,
To compose on a sentimental subject
If it came in my mind just right.
If I went to school half the time,
It was all that I could do;
It seems very strange to me sometimes,
And it may seem strange to you.
It was natural for me to compose,
And put words into rhyme,
And the success of my first work
Is this little song book of mine.
My childhood days have passed and gone,
And it fills my heart with pain
To think that youth will nevermore
Return to me again.
And now kind friends, what I have wrote,
I hope you will pass o'er,
And not criticise as some have done,
Hitherto herebefore.
poem by Julia A Moore

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Painful to rememeber
How painful it is to remember past days?
Especially when you are brought up with hard ways
Hands were trying to reach for two square meals
And utter failure in making any honorable deal
Parents looking helplessly for future of child
Showing no sign of weariness but act very mild
N0 sign of desperation and dealing with presence of mind
With the only hope that some solution is there to find
The animals too go or pass through same condition or similar
I memorize my parent seized with their love for me in particular
What I could not understand most was their stubborn attitude?
Why were they still refusing to budge from faith with gratitude?
They were not fully clothed and witnessed all the seasons
I could see no visible sign of fatigue with any of the reasons
May I was the only hope for their bright tomorrow
They did not bother or surrendered or other things to allow
Mother would never complain of any ill treatment
She might be passing through so much agony at that moment
She would watch me with affection and laugh it out
I would demand for anything and ask her about
Father would get little irritant and loose the temper
He would regret for having being short of or poor
But nevertheless he had the lion’s heart
I could always see him resolute with very good art
Today they are not with me but I am blessed
In life I met all the successes and never faced
Any shortage but got it easily with comfort
I slip into memory with folded hand to report
How parents were undergoing all woes with hardship?
They had no one besides to offer the hand of friendship
Only faith in supreme authority helped them to over come
All problems and hardships were nothing but welcome
I pray the almighty not to rob me of golden past
I revert to the old memory whenever slight doubts are cast
I learn the lessons of tolerance and resolute action
My parents were never frustrated with reaction
They lived with whatever little they had
It was not the reason to feel sad
They were strong enough not to feel bad
They felt for not looking after me well and properly fed
Such things never occur in human being life
Only fortunate may pass through the edge of knife
It is good to preserve it as precious matter
We will know the true value of well being later
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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Last advice
Papa was looking at the ceiling
As wanted to pass on something
I could guess something unusual
He was quiet and looked so casual
He had sensed his departure in advance
He may be surely debating his last chance
To see everybody standing by his bed side
The may be bide adieu with eyes wide
Normally relative gather when end nears
Secretly cry and shed the tears
It is normal human feeling with attachment
Sad feeling at heart and heavy moment
I did not miss his last advise
He had taken from me a promise
That I shall remain alert and act wise
"In this world there is no other choice" he had confided
I miss those moments and remember his face
There were visible fear lines with some traces
He had some unfilled task for me to complete
He took my hand with grief and tried to greet
This made my heart down with grief
Even though he spoke little and remained brief
We all were sure that this time he will be gone
I prayed almighty for his last breathe to be peacefully done
All parents are alike when their end approach
They may want all relatives near to bed as such
They would see it with all kind of satisfaction
Look all over places at home with recitation
We are poor human animal
There is so much celebration upon our arrival
When time comes at last for departure
They remember God and pray as creator
I slipped deep in the thought
As this was new situation and suddenly was brought
I was new to such tragic event
Unforgettable in whole life to resent
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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Bag, Pen and Pencils
'I need bag, pen and pencils'
Books and uniform are shown costly in bills
Mother has sold some of the metal utensils
I look helpless, sore and awkwardly feel
Whole world is open to me for struggle
How long parent can support and be able?
What can a little boy think of bright future?
I have no answer and not very much sure
Education has become now profession
It must be admitted with true confession
What are we going to impart to the children?
When they have no slight idea about future even
I recall those early days and feel elated
Teachers were seen with honor and highly respected
They may offer any kind of assistance at odd hours
Teaching profession was considered best and seen with honor
Each and every boy was known by face
There were sometimes health race
For open competition and scoring the marks
But not of today's schools as they are like big sharks
If you go by standard then poor parent can hardly afford
They have nothing to offer and look forward
The schools running with aid can hardly offer
The child may find only darkness in future
You can see the heavy school bag behind the back
The students have everything at stake
Right from lunch box to the subjects
Home work is already done and now time to act
We are offering different world and open sky
They have only to follow mad race and try
Who know what will they be tomorrow?
If circumstances are favored and allowed
They are future for country
But not all are happy
Only few can scale the ladder and occupy
Rest all watch helplessly and try
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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What Parents When Old, Want From Their Children …
When you were small, a helpless kid,
Just imagine what parents did,
From feeding to keeping you clean –
A routine that had always been!
And now when parents are quite aged,
They feel like birds both that are caged;
Just give them half the love they gave;
Don’t lose your temper / misbehave!
When you were small and could not bathe,
Mom bathed you with towel to swathe,
And wiped you dry and combed your hair,
All your mischief, she had to bear!
When parents are now pretty old,
Or have a fever, catch a cold,
Should not the children care for them,
And treat them for each new problem?
When you were just a little child,
And parents scolded you so mild,
To show you what was wrong and right,
And chalk a future that was bright!
And now when parents have gone weak,
To walk, your assistance, they seek,
Oblige them with a heart all glad:
Old age is less happy, much sad!
When you were craving for good food,
Your mother cooked it as she should,
And heaved a sigh of great relief,
When you’d slept, in disbelief!
And now, when parents ask something,
Be kind and courteously do bring,
They cannot buy whatev’r they feel;
They cannot run or walk or kneel!
When you’d joined school for the first time,
And could not say even a rhyme,
Your mom had taught you how to write,
And sang a ‘lullaby’ at night!
And now when parents cannot read,
And reached a stage, they cannot feed,
Shouldn’t children help them with these chores,
And see that they don’t get bed-sores?
When you were children very small,
And appeared each, a tiny doll,
Your parents helped to dress you up,
And without spilling, drink from cup!
When parents elderly now need,
A blanket when it’s cold indeed,
Should children not offer the same,
Avoiding saying words of shame?
As children, you knew not to talk,
And parents taught you how to walk,
And told you stories, sang you songs,
Correcting you in all your wrongs!
Now old-aged parents, need your love,
And not the warmth of any stove!
They want their children to converse,
And not a filled wallet or purse!
You turned a man, woman o’er years,
While parents wiped away your tears,
And found a partner good for life,
Ensuring days, devoid of strife.
When parents are now bed-ridden,
And tell you truths that were hidden,
Shouldn’t you mitigate suffering,
Without causing some bickering?
Yes, children, you cannot return
The love what parents’ hearts did burn;
Thank God for giving such great souls,
Who led you to heavenly goals.
The least that aged parents ask,
Is see their children do God’s task,
And live in harmony with all
Relatives, neighbors, till Lord’s call!
So, do your duty to parents
In ripe old age in ways you can,
And get their blessings on kindred,
That stays generations hundred!
Attend on parents in good cheer;
Be kind to them and always near;
Not all offspring get this chance rare,
To have parents old-aged, to care!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-12-2008
poem by John Celes

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I am in love
I am in love
With books
As they are
Like my life
My Life is like
A page written
In Black and white
Read and turn
Never look back
As the past been
Eaten up
Good or bad.
Tomorrow my future
The Next chapter
An adventure
Between the lines
I find life- a beauty
The new opportunity,
The second chance
Which I under lines
With a color full pen
Never mind whether
Lose or win, loss or gain,
As The story never end
Of the true lovers
In pain or pleasure
Chapter after chapter
Grief or relief
Story must go on.
poem by Abdul Wahab

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Joint family
Joint family culture now days not found
It was ideal and was placed very sound
It has made long full circle and round
Now it has disappeared and lost ground
Is it losing its original charm and magic?
They used to provide good humor and comic
There is no immediate solution and remedy
Family remains in tension without any comedy
The economic burden is taking heavy toll
Old people find it very difficult to stroll
Limited space and mobility makes them venerable
They feel neglected and lead the life miserable
How much trouble parents face for bringing their children?
Without kids their life seems sultry and barren
Parents still go for all out efforts to over come
All difficulties they bear with happy face and welcome
The phase is reversed with change of trend
Children grow up with so much to mend
They find it difficult to continue with old
Go for immediate change with old items to be sold
Overnights the parents have become unwanted
Their presence is not liked and unwarranted
They want to have their own world with freedom
They seemed to have run out of wisdom
It is irony of fact that we have run out of courtesy
How can we forget their efforts and majesty?
Do we confine our selves to feel only pity?
Is it the only way to face the situation or reality?
Old people are sometimes pushed to the wall
They are simply shunted from home or hall
Where to go and how to live is only concern?
They tend to forget that tomorrow will be their turn
We need to think in right prospective
Their plight should be considered as subjective
We are not inhuman or live in stage primitive
Deep concern should be made and efforts to revive
We must develop sound mechanism
It should be considered best humanism
Nothing can substitute for good gesture
They are not our past but best future
They should be considered as national heritage
Why we should neglect them because of old age?
They should have all their dues and respect
We need to pay attention and introspect
They have parted everything for our betterment
We should look after out them for good treatment
We should do it as matter of self respect and pride
It should form basis and not attempted to hide
History will not pardon us if we fail on this count
You will not be at ease and heavy pressure will mount
Nothing will go well if they are made to suffer
How can we afford joy if we have nothing to offer?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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To The Full Time Student In The College Of Law...
as you were taking the midterm examination
on double jeopardy and
search and seizures i was looking at you
closely,
you are so lucky to have with you
supportive parents, friends,
you have all the recent books, the
latest car, the personal computer
the laptop that you carry,
the complicated cell phone
then you were swinging your head
rolling your eyes and scratching your head
on such a hard examination as you claim it to be
beside you is Dan, working student,
poor family, dead father, mother is a plain housewife,
and why on earth is he doing well
in fact, excelling in this endeavor....
such an irony, but i am not surprised
i've been there.
seeing myself in Dan.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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No Tears
I would have never excused
If she had ever refused
For my company and hand
As we were for a long time close friends
It is not that we were not intimate
We had lot more to relate
But everything hung on fate
As everything was coming very late
She had rose like smiling face
No worry lines or tension you can trace
Such a lovely creature and my bright future!
She stood alone and was not at all sure
I used to console her to be firm
Advice her to believe in luck, pray and confirm
Not all that can be had as per desire
Some times dreams also can go on fire
To shed tears is sign of weakness
They should never rush on the ace
It may be passionately felt
Yet the secret fragrance must be smelt
Love to long for nice future
Strive hard and make it sure
If can't be fulfilled due to compulsion
There should not be slight chance for confusion
I saw her pale face and felt pain
She was to loose me again
I was yet optimistic about the positive outcome
She was to be the one at the door to welcome
I am man of little shy nature
But any man would try to reassure
Do as much as possible to prove true
And give as much respect is possible and due
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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