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174

Now I like to return
To my home
I left years ago
To see the mango trees
Flowering again

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Returning Home

Now I like to return
To my home
I left years ago
To see the mango trees
Flowering again

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My beautiful flowering trees

My beautiful flowering trees

One day I shall buy some land
Plant countless seeds
And watch them grow
Into beautiful flowering trees

A cool breeze
Will bring me
Sweet fragrances
From a thousand flowering trees

I shall listen
To the songs
From birds perched
In the tall flowering trees

I shall play
With my children and theirs
In the vast expanse of green
Amongst beautiful flowering trees

One day I shall rest
Passing into oblivion
My ashes scattered
Amidst the beautiful flowering trees

by Ash (Rishi's Dad)

poem by Rishi Menon
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Domestic Shades-21

Old House, Mango Trees, Carpenter Ants

What an odd life in an old house
With dimmed white-wash for years
All of hopeful ashes and holy fires,
By cracky, to end with blessed bows

But seemed not enough and healthy..
With its falling mortar scaly patchy
House was bending to touch me touchy
I was all in screams and unhealthy

Mango flowering too wasn't smelling
Though season was ready up for blooming
Three mango trees huge and hefty booming
Then in slow rest enough of dwelling

Some recommended more 'pooja' and 'homam'
For I was in grip of Saturn's momentum
Oh Shani, won't you rest me in peace's stratum'
'All till delicacies, accept from this home-mom'

So I pondered on as to what to do
House repairing earlier to go through
Garden repairing too through and through
So we all sat and discussed as to what to do

Then suddenly one reason found so radical
When I was stung by a black demon whimsical
And I shouted 'chee Shaniane' very allegorical
That my hubby mocked'ho worship is paradoxical'

Anyway, on hunting they swarmed from everywhere
Infesting to dig tunnels all there and there
Pinchable head and waist..they foraged, how dare
Ultimate battling, I picked up one and said 'beware'

That invasion on carpenter ants, hard too much
House maintenance is ever difficult very much
But never say'move on to a flat'that much
Jailed, will the oldies relish so much?

poem by Indira Renganathan
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The Day After The Hurricane

And they return home
after the quick evacuation
home to their homelessness,
home to the loss of their properties
built up for years and decades
now pounded and crumpled by waves.

And they return home,
home to their parks and businesses
bulldozed by giant monsters in the night.
And they return home
home to their ports and shores
finding houses of their neighbors
uprooted and thrown into deep seas.

And they return home,
home to their childhood and memories
recorded in albums and documents
videos, CDs and files in computers
now drowned by waters
and covered by piles of dirt and mud.

And they return home,
home to their own town or city
which once was lighted with much glee.
And here they now return
to this gloom of darkness
with live wires that may soon
explode into big flames of fires.

Such a tragic home coming
from the fury of the Super Power Sandy!
Have mercy, O Lord, on the victims
of this merciless hurricane.

poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Home

Home, sweet home of mine
I have missed for twenty-years
And mum is getting no younger
I should be home by now
But do I return home
When I have not achieved height?
What do I say to old friends
Who will say to me:
What have you brought for old
Friends you left behind.
Twenty years is a long time
To be away from home
And yet not not achieve height.

poem by Efe Benjamin
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Home:

Home…

Home is where you were born.
Home is where you were raised,
Home is were you grew up,
Home was what had shaped you,
Home is what gave you your foundation
And what help you grow into something amazing,
Home is what you left behind to become something bigger,
Home is what you remember many years after leaving,
Home is what you become missing for,
Home is where you crave to be when you're done with you adventures,
Even thought you left home, for another place,
Home has never left,
It's still there,
On the same old street,
With the same old lawn,
With the same old people,
Just waiting there,
For you and only you,
It is there for you and only you,
Because with out it,
Without a home,
You wouldn't have a place to go back to,
A place was you can call your own..well, home...

poem by Sherry Painter
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We Decided To Cut Some Trees

we planted the seeds together
we were thinking of fruits
for our children
we were thinking of the shade
where they can
in the future play

then the fruits in bounty came
mangoes loaded
and some water apples
shining on the twigs

the fruits ripen and some birds
came and ate them
the fruits ripen and some fell
on the ground and some
worms came and ate them

the trees get tired finally of the
seasons
flowering, fruiting, falling and
rotting and trying to
repeat the cycle all over
again
for years and years

we got old of waiting for something
new and exciting
we got bored of the fruits
the children of the neighbors
got married and left the place

we got old and tired and this day
we decided to cut the trees
some for the first time
we are too shaded
we want to see light come
we want to know what sunshine is

again, after all those years
of coldness and darkness under
the shady trees

perhaps, this is something new now
light and sun and another way to look
at our lives
something exciting something to open

to see blue skies to see the full moon
to feel warmth to let the worms sing
to see some precious stones
hidden all these years in our common paths

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fatso & His Lady!

That mango tree was no normal
It got immense love so mortal
From dawn to dusk he watered
Hoping it is never left shattered
Plucking the fruits in noon
He sat by it with all bloom.

That mango tree is no normal
It got immense love so mortal
What is it that brings that bloom
In this man so fat & hair so white
Was the thought that always rung
When I usually see him sing.

That mango tree is no normal
It got immense love so mortal
My lady love sowed this seed
& fed to it her life
I cried cried & I cried
And one day she grew up
Through ground & this is it
He told with a whisper.

That mango tree is no normal
It got immense love so immortal
Telling his tale of love
He had the last mango from it
He bore a smile on face
A tear in each eye
The seed in his palm.

That mango tree is no normal
It got immense love so mortal
Inspite of it being watered
Although I gave utmost care
In no time it became dry
And in air remained only their love……..

poem by BhanuPrakash Singh
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Return Sonata

Return the dust that is in my home to the streets at home
So that I can have a dust free home
Return the mice to the streets at home
So that I can have no mice in my home
Return some warmth to my home
So that my home can be warm also
Return peace to my home
So that I can live in peace at home
Return freedom to me
So that I can live free
Return the fresh air to my home
So that I can be able to breathe the fresh air
Return the sound of silence to my home
So that I can have some silence while I sleep

poem by Aldo Kraas
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As many joys as there are pains.

The mango tree gave me fruits and shades.
I was sad when I left.
The jack tree gave me fruits and shades.
I was sad when I left.
Likewise were a few more trees
That gave me different fruits and shades.
There are trees having given me shades.
I was sad when I left them in sequence.
Each sensation was punctuated by a stroke.
Each parting gave me a heart break.
Unions beget joys and partings, sorrows.
Sorrows follow because joys preceded.
The one who sticks to only one is unfortunate.
19.11.2000, Pmdi

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Boasting About Trees

There you stood among other trees
In a garden of legendary emeralds
Your luxuriant leaves waving to the heavens
You arresting branches kissing the sky
Honey cannot be compared to thee
You are my mango tree

My enraptured eyes are still swimming in bliss
From the first time they saw you
Untouched, unspoiled and unsurpassed
Flora of such sublime character
Honey cannot be compared to thee
You are my mango tree

My heart swims in the deluge of desire
Sweet songs of attraction, passion and fire
It is you that awakens my appetite
My dulcet cynosure
Honey cannot be compared to thee
You are my mango tree

Others may boast of oranges and apples
Grapes and pears and pomegranates too
I will be silent until I talk of you
And from my lips will dropp the words
Honey cannot be compared to thee
You are my mango tree

poem by Howard Simon
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As many joys as there are sorrows.

The mango tree gave me fruits and shades.
I was sad when I left.
The jack tree gave me fruits and shades.
I was sad when I left.
Likewise were a few more trees
That gave me different fruits and shades.
There’re trees having given me only shades.
I was sad when I left them in sequence.
Each sensation was punctuated by a stroke.
Each parting gave me a heart break.
Unions beget joys and partings, sorrows.
Sorrows follow because joys preceded.
The one who sticks to one love is unfortunate.
19.11.2000, Pmdi

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Woman is like a mango

A girl is a mango infantile,
That tastes in pickles.
A lass is about ripe mango,
That tastes in curries.
A woman is a ripe mango,
That tastes with its flesh.
At forties as juice and at fifties
As jelly, she lingers to my taste.
Even in sixties, she is like mango-essence.
In seventies, as endosperm of its nut
She still taste though differently.
Woman to men is evergreen.
29.05.2001, Berhampur

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Back Home

(Dolly Parton)
Back home, back home
Yes, I'm going back home
Why I can't believe it's been this long
Since I've seen mom and dad
When I left my mountain home behind
I left them both so sad
My brothers and my sisters that were babies then are grown
Years have past and now at last, I'm on my way back home
Back home, back home
Yes I'm going back home
To the factory smoke and city life, I'm sayin' so long
I've shed a lot of tears through all the years that I've been gone
And I've spent a lot of time a' wishin' I could go back home
I got a letter from mama an'
Mama asked me if I'd come back home
She says it sure is lonesome now
Since all of us kids are all growed up and gone
I just can't hardly stand the thoughts of
Momma and daddy being left there all alone
That's really all I need to know
And now I'm on the road back home
Back home, back home
Yes, I'm going back home
To the smog an' smoke an' city life, I'm sayin' so long
I've shed a lot of tears through all the years that I've been gone
And I've spent a lot of time a' wishin' I could go back home
Back home, back home
Yes, I'm going back home

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flowering (Ae freslighe)

Flowering trees stand shaking
as in their branches birds play,
in the morn I am waking
to a sunny kind of day.

It is during times of spring
in nature, I want to stay
to see the flowers rising
before the sun sneaks away.

The blooming does love display;
in this time there is something
that takes all your cares away
when all blossoms are flowering.

poem by Gert Strydom
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I miss my childhood

I miss my childhood everyday

This missing increases day by day
I miss those days of happiness
which were full of joy and naughtiness

I miss my grandpa's magnificent love
I miss my grandma's food serve
I miss my village and my darling home
Now I am sad and alone

I was used to go garden daily evening
where I see the day changing
I play their with my friends
who were perfect in that and were legends

I miss stealing of mango from trees
I miss those mountainy friendly trees
I miss play of hide and seek
we hide on guava's great peak

I miss my fields and ponds
I miss that sweet smell of my lands
I miss the scolds of elders
I miss my village builders

I miss my grandpa's old shoulders
I miss my village's brave soldiers
I miss my cow's sweet milk
I miss my cranky and playful tricks

No one can return my childhood
And that hunt for fruits in woods
I have left my childhood very far
But I need life like that with no bar

I am hungry for that love of village
my hunger becomes more with age
In this world of stress and worries
I want back my childhood glories

Life is such a name
That plays with everyone, a different game
But in every game there is some hopeful ray
I miss my childhood everyday.

(27 march 2010, Lucknow)

poem by Shashank Dwivedi
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A Temple Beside The Pond

A Temple Beside The Pond
Surrounded with date trees;
And trees loaded with flowers,
Receiving cold cool breeze.
Coming across the acres of farmers land
From grove of mango trees,
To this holy peaceful place from home,
A narrow spiral way leads.
The pond itself adorned with lotuses,
Many water plants and weeds.
Halt for thirsty castles and tired villagers,
Pleasure of fishing and diving exceeds;
Fragrances of flowers and fireflies at night
Stand the place in good stead.

poem by Jyoti Sunit Chaudhary
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Where The Wannon Waters Flow

To the flat and old brown Countryside the Seasons come and go
But she lives far so very far from where the Wannon waters flow
Through places to her familiar on it's journey to the sea
Through a Land that was even old in the Dreamtime of an ancient history.

Through the busy streets of London cars and trucks buzz up and down
And she now lives far so very far north of Hamilton Town
She left the Southern Grampians Shire some seven years ago
And her journeys have taken her far from where the Wannon waters flow.

Now in her twenty seventh year one can say in her life's prime
And seven years go quickly when one looks back in time
But to her parents home near Hamilton she will return next Spring
When the magpie flutes his finest and the grey shrike thrush does sing

On the gum trees by her old home at the dawning of the day
In the far southern Countryside from London far away
When the wild bush flowers are blooming and in the moonlit sky
The breeding spur wing plovers utter their territorial cry.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Wisdom From Life

I can't forget the mango-tree that grew
So well, and gave us luscious fruits umptine
In mother's rented house garden we left,
When mother left the world to be with God!

I want to kill the squirrels, birds that steal
The ripened guava, custard fruits atop
Their trees, I eagerly await to pluck,
But cannot do for they much faster!

I wish to curse the children who come stealth,
And climb the trees to steal the fruits unripe,
Like cats that love to drink the milk when spilled,
And not from bowl that house-lady offers!

Charity has more value when you're poor!
Love is better given when you need it;
Sharing what you need is of greater worth;
Advice others what you didn't get in life!

poem by John Celes
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As Years Go By

Tell me how the years go by
Its been a long long time
Tell me how your plans fell through
And how you changed your mind
Tell me bout the hearts you broke
How many have you known
Tell me how the years went by
And left you all alone
Tell me dear
I want to hear
bout the lost and wasted years
Tell me when now tell me why
Tell me how the years go by
Tell me how the years go by
Like borrowed dancing shoes
That gather dust beneath your ned
Mislaid and seldom used
Like a heart that haunts a phone booth
On a corner far from home
Tell me how the years went by and left you
All alone
Close your eyes
Tell me what do you see
Its an imperfect world
Still we dream perfect dreams
Its no big surprise when were down on our knees
Truth isnt always what we will believe.
Tell me how the years go by
In seasons at your door
And how the things you left me for
Dont matter anymore
Tell me how the more we learn
The more we leave unknown
Tell me how the years went by and left you
All alone
Alone
Close your eyes (x3)

song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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