our beloved brother from India
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold
board his magic carpet
woven with wit, intellect and insight
soar through sagas steeped in mythology
captivating revelations on cultural tradition
unique perspectives on historical events
clever concepts conveyed with humor
psychology, philosophy, behavior observations
materialize as “Mehtaisms”
stirring the soup
adding spice to the broth
supporting work of members new and old
our international melting pot
enriched by the work of a Literary Doctor
salute a special sage who graces us with gifts
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold
* Dedicated to Dr. Ram Mehta in honor of Joe Maverick’s “Better than Gold” contest
As I roll out of bed tomorrow
I’m gonna say goodbye sorrow
Fare thee well Mr. Cynicism
See you later Mr. Pessimism
Adios to Mr. Skepticism
Exit negativity, enter positivity
No procrastination and inactivity
An idle mind is the devils workshop
That’s why I’ll exert myself nonstop
No more misery and depression
As exuberance replaces dejection
Success is around the corner
It’s coming now and not later
Victory is surely heading my way
No matter what people may say
I quit banking my future on luck
Time has come to break the duck
A new dawn has shown its face
My home will be a better place
I’m a potential winner, a true born victor
Within me lies a superstar, a megastar
No I’m not building castles in the air,
I’m not dreaming, I’m not hallucinating
I have to earn my place in history
Put a good ending to my unfinished story
My story is about confidence, not arrogance
I advocate humility, not vanity
Trials and tribulation come and go
Sticky situations are not unique to you
But we all know as well as you do
You need hard work and determination
For the youth, education is the only solution
You’ve got to make the decision
To extract yourself from destitution
Leave nothing at all to chance
For fortune favours the brave
No sweet without sweat, no pain, no gain
Each time you fall recollect and try again
A dream doesn’t become reality through magic
Lazy genius is not only sad but also tragic
Stay focused, keep your eyes on the prize
There is no substitute for hard work
There are no secrets to success
Only in the dictionary does success precede work
We are all gifted, skilled and talented
Unshackle that innate ability
Let loose that latent capability
I’m gonna prepare, plan and plot
Execute and give it my best shot
Until the day that I hit the jackpot
your voice now silent
never to see you smile again
you left us heartbroken
shocked to silence
your laughter and your
“I can go on attitude”
just being you
even when fighting
we'll never know why
you had to leave us so soon
we'll always wonder
we'll always have questions
God knew your journey was complete
when He selected the perfect rose for His garden today---
IN LOVING MEMORY OF A FRIEND AND COLLEAGUE,
MICHELLE SCHULTZ 26092011
We, at BABS miss you already
There was a naughty girl, and the naughty girl was she
She worked a crossword puzzle, while she had her cup of tea
Poured another cup, ......she should get up!
for chores and roll her sleeves
She had much work to do, but her good intentions flew
like feathers in a breeze
Instead of mops and brooms, she would sing a cheery tune...
while she danced around the room..
Sudsy dish pans full....but Mother Nature pulled
her to the sunshine for a stroll
Her bed unmade, her bills unpaid,
But instead she picked a daisy
Beneath a sunny sky
......she heard the lullaby
of the birds that sing on high
She had meals to cook
but would rather look
at the snowtop hills nearby
So much work undone, and the dinner?......NONE!
But she fed her soul instead!
For Linda Marie's Contest "I Am Bored With _______
By Carrie Richards
A solitary pencil line,
on distant snow.
Cleaves blank sky
from frozen ground.
Gives hope of where to go.
creates a tree I toil towards
its trembling twigs
find only that I'm lost
and all about me
unspoiled virgin white
except the fading words
from where I've been.
I'm not great.
I'm not extraordinary,
But I'm okay knowing that
Just as long as you
Who I am when I'm
Discovering who I am
And how I cope.
I don't work with metal;
I don't work with wood.
All I have are my words,
Hopefully, a poetic way.
I speak and I speak,
But when I write,
In a way,
Nothing gets spoken.
I'm not motivational;
I'm not inspirational,
But as long as I
Move a wistful soul
From time to time, I'm good.
But it seems
I'm running out
And people to talk to.
I want to speak
With my words, but
It seems only my
Ranting of how I'm
Stuck and lost
Gets my point across.
I can send your mind
In a spin;
I am constantly spinning
And even hated.
I spin from giving,
And, in return,
Being spun some more.
Life in general;
Only, I tend
To put pieces
Where they belong,
Then come to discover
That, later, they grow
And start to mesh.
I don't know
If, looking back,
I'll only see me
Waisting my time
Or looking over
What helped me through it.
I couldn't tell you
That everything I cherish
Will be there
Or even here tomorrow.
The ones who understand
And know more
Of me than I do myself
Are the ones that
Keep me spinning.
So, here is me speaking.
I feel as if
I'm looking through
A narrow telescope
That is covered
On the other end.
What I choose to see,
But what's that to
They don't have the time
To keep up
Or slow down;
Going their steady pace
Until they find the time
To waste it.
But no matter
Where I go,
I only see
That I'm finding nothing.
But my emotions
Are ready to fight.
Bring it on;
I can and
Continue to take your shots.
Hold me in your arms
Until I'm safe
And fall asleep...
Maybe when I wake up
I won't be scared, confused,
Torn and lonely.
Maybe I'll wake up and realize
It was a dream and I'm safe
Because you are there.
I'm not great.
I'm not extraordinary,
But you know who I am
And love me for it.
LOTUS FOR SLOPING KNEES
the contentment of disheveled twigs
sitting on shoulders of humming trees,
the sunlight wafting shades on meshed nets---
it is before early morning, pale always ever,
pagan and pliant as the swoon
of winged winds. after all, while village trawlers
tug the day’s haul of buttery clams,
salmon and weeds,
the river washes its feet unobserved.
even when the hills fondle the peaks
of embossed leaves, there is no time
for human leisure on the streams, not yet. not till
compass’ hours stray too long, tedious, unabated
for folk fishermen to haul the orbed ropes
and slug aquatic baits in exile, washed
from sea wine that cradles trout’s liberty…
many a time, when evanescent light
envelopes all things tender and sunlight drifts
lotus flowing, rowing; as clouds gather odorless
upon sloping male knees: fishermen become
the fishes darting free, finally tranquil…
content as disheveled twigs lying
on shoulders of humming trees.
© all rights reserved
a hallway. offices. tinted sunlight.
people who have forgotten my name.
but i am here.
and then a room. and a meeting.
and i am unprepared.
“you’re up” says the leader.
and my lungs fill with heaviness as they all turn towards me.
my mind screams.
my throat locks.
and then a word fights through the scream.
and i breathe. and find a voice.
and then another word.
and a thought.
i am moving.
and eyes do not wander.
but the scream fights on:
they will find out.
i was connected at one time.
so the scream would fade.
but not now.
these many years later.
“we could use you again,”
he had said.
and i had relented.
but why? boredom? faith?
the scream of fear vs. the scream of isolation?
or a familiar voice dragging me back from madness.
“what have you been up to?”
he had asked.
and i had lied.
and now my mind all scrambled between work and stupor.
“what on EARTH are you talking about?!”
demands the one who should have taken over for me.
and the throat locks again.
and the scream rises up.
and he knows it.
but sympathy has no place here.
so i struggle with the scream.
and find the words to hide the Fraud
as he shakes his head in disgust.
and i remember why i left.
so i wade in the scream until i am done and take my seat.
and the scream that never dies whispers, “what else is there?”
My resentment flairs
My will ebbs
Still looking elsewhere
I won’t just leave
I care too much
My heart is here
Have more to give
Want answers to my whys
Know I’ll never truly know
Doors of opportunity may open
But I still hold hope
Knowing this is my calling