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Long Pollution Poems | Long Pollution Poetry

Long Pollution Poems. These are the most popular long Pollution by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pollution poems by poem length and keyword.

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Long Poems
Long poem by Goutam Hazra | Details |

Scent of Paddy Flower

Scent Of Paddy Flower

                                   By Goutam Hazra


My father told me 
first time 
I was just a boy then,
“Follow the scent of paddy flower
move with the wind it carries,
surely you will go to heaven.”

I remember
he would catch 
fistful of wind
bring near to my face
and wonder,
“Isn’t it godly!”

Magically, opened his hand
but I never felt
what scent he meant.
Days of kind rain

“Son, see the misty wind
rushing all over the paddy field
comes every year
to drink the scent of paddy flower.”

Mere as a boy
I could see only
tides of a green plane
touching my little finger
and racing far… too far.
I would ask  
“Where have they gone?”
Smiled my father 
and said
“Did not you listen,
they are going to heaven,
call the goddess then,
‘come goddess dear’
we all are ready with paddy flower.”

Curious was my face,
“Papa, then?”

“Goddess will arrive smiling
her feet will be here
Seeing a pot in her hand
all those paddy flowers
delighted, will open their mouth more wider
and life will be poured…”

“Where these flowers come from?”

Remained my father smiling
speaking all his mind
looking high at sky
asked me to see there
spoke he again.

“Rain, rain, kind monsoon rain
on the first day of its shower
kind rain would ask me to come here
with bagful of paddy seeds,
‘let seeds be spread all over,
let its eternal relation with soil
be the fertilizer’
when all said is done
waiting rain 
starts showering its kind
make visible hiding life in the abyss of seed.
Happy wind changes color
being green all around
waits for the day
when the wind would smell the scent of paddy flower.”

Days passed by,
kind rain was still in waiting
sometimes hidden beyond horizon
or simply making sun blind with its smoky face
and whenever wind said,
‘Dry I’m now’
quenched the thirst.

Someday wind played naughty with sun
asked kind rain to make it misty
and with brushes of sun rays 
painted a rainbow on the face of east sky.

Wait was over
green field blossomed with flowers
and wind said,
“Fill in my heart
with scent of flower
I shall bring life…”

Happy was my father’s voice
“Rain, rain, kind monsoon rain
said so
green wind brining life 
did so
scent of paddy flower
is made so.
Bare footed be here
print your soul
in the dust of this soil
kind rain will come
green wind being there
life will be yours 
with the scent of paddy flower.”
Cruel entropy

How old was I then
nine or ten
my father looked up
up to the sky
again and again
for a month long
only to see 
change of sky’s color
from the color of a summer day to a long humid night.
Dry wind cried at last
over my father’s sweating body
“Rain, rain O kind rain, where have you gone.”

One day sudden
kind rain came again.
Cried to my father
“Why no green wind came this year
from ocean 
to bring me here.
Desert wind why
dry my breath
seeds you have sown
how could I then
enliven with my rain.”

many question
my father had asked the rain.

Short-lived, hurried rain could spell its last breath,
“I am not that rain 
as was your friend,
I am the curse of dying forest
I am the ghost of all pollution
I am born out of acid weather…”

Who knew, it left for where?

My father cried 
As kind rain left him alone
hiding in a dry wind’s bone.

My father was still
going every morning
asking the soil
in vain
if soil could alone
make the paddy flowers to be born.

Year passed by,
came back the time, 
for green wind to bring kind rain.

Rain came one day.

But why
as a cloudburst
roaring always
pouring unwanted
like an unkind monster
flooded misery
in the life of a simple farmer?

Dumb remained my father
for days together
sad was his voice at last,
“Run away, son, run away from here,
sky rain wind
river village land;
thread of this garland
who cuts it
go, stop now there hand.”

Draught and flood,
uncertainty of life 
changed my mind 
as of a farmer’s son.
Books, studies and education
reasons, truth and compassion
might have had fulfilled my father’s mission.

Does not this civilization
converts us 
as the products to do more production.
Run, run and run 
run ahead of time
let be it, at the cost of inhaling killer tension,
stress taking  over your life.
Insomnia, cholesterol or cynicism
is our success’s companion? 
‘A’ is shaped as ‘B’
and ‘B’ is sold as ‘C’.
but I found the basic
what it remain
as life’s supreme conviction 
‘simply a fist full of paddy
and its grain’.

Scent of life

So here, I am again
standing in front of this green plane
searching for the shadow of my father.
Green wind surrounds my existence
I can see the dance of those bunches.
My mind whispers to my ear
echoes those words of my father, 
“Bare footed be here
print your soul
in the dust of this soil
rain will come
green wind being there
life will be yours 
with the scent of paddy flower.”

I never felt so,
what I smell now 
is the scent of paddy flower.

Long poem by Ravindra K Kapoor | Details |

Pink Pink Pink

Pink- Pink- Pink- Every peak has its own attractions, Like the mountains, The mounts of a woman, Have always remained, Her pride possessions. 01 It has the charms, More intoxicating than wine, As it reveals the beauty, Of a woman's alluring binds. 02 These mounts gives, The wings of imagination and colors, In the mind of an artist, And they arise the passion, In lovers mind.03 Their rise and fall, Has shaken great empires, Under their cool and peaceful shade, The dreams of a child form shapes. 04 Its serenity has given birth, To most pious and holy figures on Earth, And their warmth have shaped the dreams, Of many powerful kingdoms on Earth.05 They feed life giving milk, To every new born light, Every time they laugh and cry, These lofty mounts, Help in forming shapes, When the child begins its story. 06 But these pride possessions, Of a woman, These lofty inspirations, Of Poets, Writers and Artists, These magical charms Which often become more attractive, Than the face of a woman, Are facing, A wide spread pollution,* Which is the unwanted gift of Modern living and They are also the gifts, Of worst living habits, Adopted by thousands, and millions of woman, As they fall prey, Before the charms, And shows of modern generation. 07 Many such wonderful women, Who are in the grip of this pollution,* Have brought this curse on them, Mostly because, Of their own follies and errors. 08 Many such suffering women, Can really get rid of, From the curse of this pollution,* If only they can show, The courage to adopt, The natural way, Of living and breathing, Possible under the boon like shade, Of real Yoga. 09 The reasons, Of the distortions,* Of their pink pink ribbons, Are mainly the results, Of their own creations, And these results, Are not something, For which, One should blame, The destiny or God every time. 10 Some of the serious reasons are, Not caring rightly, For one’s own pride possessions, And the lack of, Physical manipulations. Not keeping, A cool and calm mind, And eating, From morning till night, All the junk foods and wine. 11 And working, Beyond all time limits, While stressing, your peaceful mind. 12 Running and more running To catch others, So that you may not leg behind. 13 And madly crying, For more and more wealth, Even if you have sufficient, For your life time. 14 Are the reasons, Which invite the pollution,* To sow its rotten seeds, To spoil, The enchanting valley, Which exists, Amid the mounts of, Pink pink flowers. 15 The pollution,* Can still be derived out, With the little practice of Yoga, But it remains untouched, And unsung about, By most of the modern women. 16 These otherwise elegant women, Regularly face the problems, Of distress, Lack of peace, And sound sleep. Which ultimately take away, Their happiness, And coolness of mind, Resulting in strengthening more, The un sprouted seeds of pollution.* 17 Still it is not too late, If they can only change, Their life styles, Their eating and drinking habits, And adopt from today, The way of natural living, By adopting, The boon like Yoga. 18 As the practice of Yoga, Not only add years to your life, But life to your years, as well. 19 Ravindra Kanpur India 15th Nov. 2012 *Pollution- The other name of Cancer. Those who want to share their views on My above Poem may write to me on my yahoo mail id: I would welcome your brief comments and if possible I will reply you. Thanking you in anticipation. Ravindra K Kapoor Inspired by Poet Destroyer I am dedicating this Poem to all those women of the world, who are facing any such problem of Pollution* And to those also who are not facing it, so that their life my feel the joy of living under the blessings of Yoga. Ravindra
TO OVERCOME OR TO TAKE PRECAUTION ON THIS PROBLEM UP TO SOME EXTENT- ONE CAN START WITH ANY ONE OR TWO OR THREE OR ALL FIVE OF THE SIMPLE YOGA EXERCISES I HAVE GIVEN IN MY ‘YOGA IN POEM’ SERIES 1 TO 5 ON POETRY SOUP IT- SELF. YOUR COMMENTS WOULD BE HIGHLY APPRECIATED. IMPORTANT NOTE: The best effects of Yoga can only be obtained if it includes the main exercises of essential ‘PRANAYAMA’ otherwise it wouldn’t yield the desired results and PRANYAM should be learn properly first. Ravindra K Kapoor

Long poem by Dylan Irvin | Details |

Waters And Skies

You can always tell by the eyes
When they’re starting to go
You’ll fall for a few of their lies
Before you begin to know
And you will just defy it
(But they know you will never go)

They’ll glide through the waters and skies
The erratic behavior will soon begin to show
Above and away the storm dies
A cold, hollow feeling in a black and white glow
And they will justify it
(But you know it will take them slow)

You’ll slowly begin to realize
Static is policing their echo
The red stitching in their burnt Eye
That will probably never unsew
And they will just deny it
(But you know they will always go)

The phantom’s days are aphotic
Ocean whispers deicide to Moon
The morning clouds aquatic
Reaching the waves with a bent spoon
Mind is lifted and neurotic
The Earth will come back to you soon
And you won’t feel so erotic
While alone in your hotel room
(Sex with the city sleepers)

Alive where Death lives
Gone where the waves go
Asleep where dreams wake
Dead where feelings die

…A light where the stars are burnt…

Bid these feelings words
The machines of waters and skies
Embody the gliding emotions
Like clouds they shape themselves and go

Write this bidding to feel
Remember the thoughts that were
Like waves they flow and fade away

Rid these words of feeling
Feel anything at all, fall…
Like wind they take and they stray

Feel these words to rid
The masks and chains of oneself
And the dark feelings that boil within
Like trees they raise themselves and grow


Ocean dreams of phantom mechanisms
The world is cold and full of ghosts
They watch as their generation swims in murk
And the funeral of social segregation will never breathe
The night mirrors reflect the soul of a poet
Only one comprehends these idiosyncratic vowels
Like waves they flow and fade away


Under the white and blue cloak
The clouds are my poet smoke
Rain is the cleansing of wicked nights
With venom pollution and spider bites
That flood my mind with a static tan
Vanished through the wire, I already am

Her clouded eyes they lock to me
I, a sight she was not meant to see
My ghastly ripped soul exposed
Our deepest feelings transposed
And I know this one’s a lie
A worn exhausted sigh
Printed from the pressed death within
Those eyes seek Life all over again
(Her flawlessness the only flaw)
(His flaws make him flawless)

Phantom is high and dark as crow
Moon showers greetings below
Ocean mirrors it’s divine glow
Cloud attempts to steal the show
Earth is screaming, we ignore it though
Mind is planted and dying to grow
Life is tired and waiting to go
Static is torn and ready to sew
Death is late and killing slow
Eye is two and one doesn’t know(Shhh!)


The flames scorching the depths of Eye
Splitting the reign of one into two
I met Satan at the gates of Hell (Phoenix)
Only to be spit back to Earth like scum
Half alive and crawling through the moor
Realization was the key to the shining door
Oh my god, I’m one. Eye am God.


The mountains between the waters and skies
Keeps dreams from reality and pulls reality from dreams
Mind faces fears of the night mirrors and reflections sleep
And the liquid light of the moon opens a gateway
Where dreams don’t sleep and strength never weakens
A world where control doesn’t slip between the seams
Of your sewn mind… 
(Free yourself from the shadows of life and death)


Through cataracts in the skies
A distant moan begins to rise
Through an uncharted cloud
Of a puddle yet to be in drops
The fruit sky shrieking aloud
In a garden of iridescent crops
With blooming pollution in clad soil
Entwined in a cumulonimbus coil
Morphing into a levitated brook
With a broken and faceless rook
In a receding horizon losing it’s form
Cackling out to the tempestuous storm

Flashes of embers in skies blink
Flooding the faintly seen brink
Of the distant washed away galaxies
Pygmy slowly galloping through
Rolling clouds in the skies of aquatic blue
A delicate touch of colored waves
Painting rainbows on sea graves
Where pirate ships set sail
Through a violent pour of hail
In a limitless sky of falling streams
And an icicle ocean of drying dreams
Through cataract jets in the skies
A static ambience calms and dies…

Long poem by Ravindra K Kapoor | Details |

Yoga in Poem A Novel Approach Step 5

Yoga in Poem A Novel Approach Step 5

Anulom Vilom or The Science of Alternate Breathing


Take your right thumb on your right nostril and while pressing and closing it inhale a deep slow breath from your left nostril. Hold the breath for a second in the beginning and then open your right nostril so that you may exhale the air you have filled in your lungs. 
Now inhale deep and slow breath from the same nostril, where you have just exhaled (right nostril) and again hold it for a second and then exhale it from your left nostril. 
At the time of exhaling air from your right nostril press and stop your left nostril from the middle and ring fingers (Imp). Repeat this action from 1 minute in the beginning to 10 -15 minutes by doing it again and again as you had started earlier. Do this breathing practice from 1-3 minutes to 15 minutes to get the maximum benefits.

Step-5  How to do Anulom Vilom

Sit in Sukhasana or in Padmasana on a comfortable flat ground or on a Carpet or Durry. Start Anulom Vilom in the morning hours, when your  stomach is empty and clear . Close your eyes and sit as relaxed as possible for next 2-3 minutes, so that your muscles may get relaxed.

Anulom Vilom or (Alternate Breathing) Among all the breathing Exercises of Yoga Anulom Vilom shines Like a glittering jewel Where one sees The Astonishing results of Yoga Taking shapes like the Painting of an artist. Which only get appreciated The moment It began to show some Lines, figures and shapes And when the picture get filled with Colors You would only fall in love With the richness of Anulom Vilom’s Colors and shades Which remains The most precious gift of Yoga For all the human beings. It almost rejuvenates and transforms You Like the finished and colorful marvelous painting Of an artist From a dull and colorless shape. The wonderful effects of Anulom Vilom Will slowly purify your lungs Body and mind And many of human bodies Curse like ailments Like circulatory problems or Heart diseases Blood pressure problems and Blockages Depression and migraine pain Asthma, sinus and allergy. It is highly beneficial For those who suffers from stress and anxiety. Once you gain the time limit Or number of Anulom Vilom You will find yourself Blessed With a new personality Filled with energy and peace of mind And above all Love and kindness for all Which began to flow from your heart And helps you To accomplish your Tasks and talks With the grace of good health Endowed with the blessings of God. Regaining of good health By adopting Yoga Would become Your daily partner To Restore your love and confidence And your faith in Your God And it would make you More wanting and artful For you and your family and your life. Ravindra Kanpur India 28th July 2013
Important tips and precautions: -Anulom Vilom pranayama can be performed by any one of any age group. -Please perform this at calm and clean place either in a garden or at a place away from dust and pollution, and where there is a lot of oxygen. -The best time to practice this breathing exercise is considered to be early in the morning before having your breakfast. - However, performing Anulom Vilom should be avoided by pregnant women and during periods. -Persons having serious heart problems should not practice it without the guidance of a proper Guru or instructor. - Its benefits would be more visible, if you can practice it daily.
Gratitude- Although Anulom Vilom is the gift of ancient sages but it was brought to lime for the general good of the world by Swami Ram Deo of Patanjali Yog Peeth. Ravindra K Kapoor

Long poem by Terry Trainor | Details |


Listen to the wind as it crashes into the towns and villages and downs mighty trees,
Stand still, let it blow until you nearly fall, face its anger and lean into the cold wind,
It brings snow so heavy, flakes will bite your face, freeze your wet golden pig tails
Stand in the blizzard then fall to the ground and stay there, this is your judgement day,

It's time to reflect darkest needs, and the moral ruin in that space, of your passing years.
Listen to the wind bending boughs, branches and the flow of a turbid stream of pollution,
A pollution that floats the wretched souls and bodies of all mankind to death and to hell,
You hear a sound of branches creaking under the strain of despicable wrongs in your life,

It's a mighty power that takes away the beat of the immoral pulse of your sorry humanity,
So now you are ready to listen, so listen hard, but then you know your own sorry story.
Listen to the wind and hail sweeping over dead leaves, throwing them into a black sky,
Do leaves shiver or do they shout out loud in rage as they are scooped up in a frenzy,

Will you pray to your god, ask him for forgiveness as this is your last day on earth,
Or will you beg in the tattered slops of your own righteousness just to save yourself,
Listen to the tolling of the old passing bell that swings in your black dome of vice.
You will feel the devils havoc amongst immortal souls, a hell fire dwelling in your heart,

A story of your progress a disease of lies which sucked away all goodness from your days,
Lies have plucked the red roses from childhood and set a brand of hate on your wet brow,
The story of lies which have stalked and spread up and down the earth for many centuries,
Lies that sweeps millions upon millions to destruction, for this disease there is no cure. 

How many sighs have been noted down in your heaven and how many tears were for yourself,
Those too often troubled fountains flowing like April showers, your wolf's tears fallen,
How many hearts have you broken in loveless famine, all for a want of an act of kindness,
See how deep the dyes painted in your days, a selfish dense black cloud as the background,

So look behind you, see the old man carrying his scythe, he is waiting and he has patience. 
Listen hard, listen well, do you hear trumpets blare over the crashing white landscapes,
Will you pray brimstone or treacle and tell the wind your sins the unacceptable truth's,
Did you sit and drink your wine murmuring everlasting hate in a rich full flavoured voice.

You are just a blank space in a world of nothingness a mere sour taste in the universe,
Your vicious wrongs telling the same old stories heard by thousands, thousands of times,
You close your mind and pretend to forget what cannot be forgotten, tell me are you bad, 
Because I would like to know if you think you are a good example, I would like to know.

Long poem by kasim ishmael | Details |

Environmental girl

This morning when I call my girlfriend 
She didn’t answer and I felt sad
Then she calls me in the evening
She had volunteer to clean a vacant yard

I told her how much miss talking to her today
And she smiles and said “such a big baby”
Then she said “ohhh don’t worry big baby”
You will always my one and only “froggie”

And when she talks to me like that
I feel like yeahhh “I’m king of the world”
And now as she takes on saving the planet
I have get use to sharing my “environmental girl

She’s worried about our planet earth
Humanity is slowly destroying the land
And she wants to make every one aware 
To do their part and give a helping hand

We are killing our only planet slowly
And this is not an exaggeration
It’s the fault of governments and industries
And the consequences of their own actions

It’s also the effects of millions of people
Who keeps doing the wrong thing?
By not being aware or thinking of the future 
Or the dangers facing this world we live in

It took years for the climate to change 
And for the hole in the ozone to began
Cause by the factory pollutions and gases
That comes from man-made halocarbon

People are not aware or just don’t care
We don’t think of the world in danger 
We think we can turn blind eye to see
The damage being done to Mother Nature

Religions and science look at the world 
From two different point of view
Religion says,” god will not destroy the world again
Science says” the condition of it is up to me and you

The plastic waste that we use and discard
Stays in the land fill for hundreds of years
And the plants that give us our foods 
In time it will all just disappears

TV, radio, computer or DVD player is on standby
The features of our modern Technology
We waste and consume energy needlessly
We have remotes to switch it off, still we’re lazy

She opens up my eyes to what I couldn’t see
And she is spreading her knowledge to every one
And I know this world will be a better place
Because she always finish what she began

She is very passionate about the animals
She has a lot to do on her plate
And the project that she has taken on 
Is to save mother earth before it’s too late

Not every country Recycle in the world
And she wants to spread her ideas around
And I know every one will follow her 
And save the earth where we all belong

“We all have to share this land
We all have to live together
If we all give a helping hand
We can make this planet last foreve

Long poem by John Trusty | Details |


Two Young Checkers
(Rhonda)  I’m hearing you Louise.
Ya know my son is still suffering from a (Semester Meltdown) because the (Federal Budget) 
will no longer be funding a program for poets in residence. He said it felt just like they 
slammed the (Gym Locker) door on his (Unwritten Book) called (Toilet Training). If I’ve said 
it once, I’ve said it twice Louise, I saw him shed his (Last Teardrop) as he tried in vain to get 
(Beyond the Moment)…

(Louise)  OKAY, ALREADY! 
So like I was saying before and its’ never been (Far from the Truth), everything revolves 
around (Money Matters), don’t it honey?
Whaddya think Rhonda, am I right or what?

Two Old Baggers
(Ernie) You know when my wife asked me about this my nerves nearly got (Shattered) 
thanks to her putting me (Under Duress) with her questions. She wanted to roast me like a 
marshmallo in a (campfires blaze). Seems I had become the (Sensation on Second Street). 
Some (Doppelganger) was (Slow Strollin’) on a (quiet morning) during this (hot July). He was 
(in the Autumn) of his life as they say. I think he was in old (Dementia’s Grip) if you ask me. 
Anyway, he kept humming to himself like he was (Lost in the Music) of something that was 
made up (Of One Chord). I feel real sorry for the old fart, sometimes I can’t remember what 
was said or comes next mself.
Whaddya think Bert?  Bert, ya been there yet?  Bert!  Bert!

(Bert) Huh, Whaddya say, Ernie?

Musac Local News
In other news (Community Spirit)s were running high though many weren’t (Still Smiling) 
over recent developments (Down in the Coal Mines) after the shaft collapsed in the old 
polluted mine. Apparently no one was injured. For the long term a (black line) of coal was 
clearly visible from up high in the mountains where only (an eagle) could have seen them. 
Coal cars were spilling (Parallel Lines) of future pollution to be washed down the mountain 
side. The (Forest Retreat) a once famous (Oasis) and Mecca for travelers was notified by the 
EPA when the (river cascades), it rushes the polluted coal water into the ground water. We’ll 
be listening to the coal company (howling) (in the Dog House) for screwing this up.
 Just In
Father Gloom & Doom as we all know him, has just commented on this impending 
disaster. “The wings of (Ordinary Angels) will be blackened forever with soot from burning 
this polluted coal!” 
Call lines are lit up folks, He’s talking to the Angels again.
 “Whaddya think of that?”

Long poem by Lisa Geier | Details |

Just a bit of meditation

If greed had not been passed down by generation 
If love and peace had not been reduced to confiscation   
If the rules of government had not been trapped through the lamination 
of corruption
Leaves no room for imagination
God forgot about creation
Hope is lost in legislation 
Money runs our formation
Not given enough consideration
Hold loved ones close in the gestation 
Of the clowns who run our nation
Don’t think about the population
Oil runs through my circulation
Cut me open to reduce inflation
Masses controlled by the spread of propagation 
Minds thinking about increasing production
Not wondering about the function
To create reconciliation 
That will erase all detestation
World becoming one at the disintegration
Of hate that causes annihilation  
But we’re wrapped up in materialization 
No one thinks about moderation 
Losing the point of our conception
Watching love burn by cremation
Cultures watching their own elimination
Taken over by globalisation
Not thinking about our obligation
To bring an end to this violation 
So we can all live without feeling exclusion
Wondering what caused our distraction
As we sit in front of the television
Open your minds to this jurisdiction 
That is causing devastating afflictions
Not enough vaccinations 
To cure the spreading contamination
Children suffering from starvation
Don’t tell us it’s a peace mission it’s an invasion
Millions face extermination
Treated like an insect infestation
Super powers don’t care about liberation 
Please understand that war is not a celebration
Just because it creates an augmentation
In the economic foundation 
It’s still a disgusting molestation
Of the purity in civilization
Weapons cause death not constructive conversation
Bombs exploding cause fragmentation
Of emotions such as adoration
Synonym for love respect and devotion
The cry for peace should not be answered with explosions
Raise your hand if you agree with this motion
Was this the point of evolution? 
Ever increasing pollution
Creates a growing irritation
In the system of respiration
Symptoms close to asphyxiation  
Don’t breath in its like suffocation
This is not an exaggeration
This is not a fabrication
This is just a demonstration
Of how we caused our own obliteration
Passing on a bit of education 
Through the form of communication
Hope there's been some concentration 
Thanks for your appreciation 

Long poem by Ravindra K Kapoor | Details |

Good Morning - East West North South 1/2

Good Morning     1/2
East West North & South

Birds and flowers said, Good Morning to not yet visible Sun
The Butter flies, Black bee and the Honey bee, spread their wings,
While hovering on one flower to another and flying on buds 
Before touching flower’s petal like lips and taking its nectar

A bunch of honey bees, which were waiting and were flying
On the lotus flowers and buds, looked towards east and 
Said Good Morning to east horizon 
Where the Sun was awaited any moment to start spreading 
Its sunshine, while some smaller insects quickly said Good Morning
As if, they too were in a hurry to feel the nectar of 
Mother Nature on their lips

In the North east of the country we know as India
On the mountain Himalayan ranges of Kanchanganga*  
Where the Sunrays had just started spreading first golden beams
The peaks too were saying Good Morning in the praise of God, 
Thanking the Mother Nature for spreading its 
Gold treasures* on the snow peaks so lavishly

After Thanking Almighty God, they made a humble complaint
Saying, “Some humans are planning to make a road up to 
Mount Everest. O God, Give some good sense to them
Not to destroy God’s grandeur and the serene beauty of this place
By polluting the Mount Everest and its adjoining places, 
Even the noises of many and many army boots 
Too is creating a noise pollution, my Lord”

A strange thing happened and the peaks heard loud thunder in 
The sky, as if in a roaring Voice the God was telling and murmuring
“Do not bother My Child. If some humans have gone out of mind
And are trying to carry out any such designs, 
On or around Mount Everest,
The earth would over turn such devastating projects, 
Build by some humans or by those, who are
Working in human disguise to destroy the peace of earth
By violence, hatred and a compassionless attitude and life 

Ravindra                                                                 concluded in  part  2  

Kanpur India                                                        11th March 2010

*Gold treasures.    In the early morning hours when the sunrays fall on 
                             The Peaks of Kanchanganga, they glitter like gold. 
                             This view can also be seen from Darjeeling (a hill 
                              station of India) or from Sikkim state of India

* Kanchanganga    Name of the Himalayan mountain range covered with

Long poem by Krystal Turton | Details |


She is fire
Raging red and hot through all that surrounds her.
She entices you, drawing you in,
Like a moth to her flame,
Just to singe your wings.
She does not discriminate,
Nobody is safe from her unyielding heat.
She promises warmth and light as the sun,
Shining while the world turns her way,
But leaves you blistered and scared by her burns.
As she departs,
She leaves behind no life,
Only smoking remains of once brightly spirited optimism,
Trampled by the ash-covered footprints of her insatiable rampage.

She is air
Crisp and clean and tasting of the seasons.
She dances and twirls with the leaves across the autumn ground.
She bites and nips with gusts of icy wind in winter's bitter cold.
She tickles newborn spring grass and smells of April rain.
She breezes through summer's trees and refreshes your soul.
Elusive and invisible, she is what the body craves the most.
She may howl and whip through the storms she must weather,
Screeching and terrifying you in the wake of her tornado,
But after is passes, and she calms,
The stillness of her breath
Is her silent apology.

She is water
Serene and tranquil on the surface
But treacherous beneath.
Her secrets are ocean deep,
But her selfhood is a puddle, 
Shallow and deceitful.
She lacks loyalty,
Living life as ever-changing as a river.
If she could, she'd drown herself in the nectar of the damned.
You may try to love her,
But she'll run like a stream.
You may try to hold her,
But she'll slip through your fingers.
And when she erodes you until you can no longer save her,
She'll blame the coldness of your heart
As the reason she's hardened as ice.

She is earth
Wiser than any living creature, 
And more beautiful.
She is the mother of existence,
Giving you the knowledge of time.
She's more majestic than her mountains,
More honest than her deserts,
And more pure than her forests.
She defines home,
Providing shelter, open arms and impartial ears
For all who take a moment to use them.
But you disrespect and mistreat her.
She offers you the truest of riches
And you repay her with pollution.
Her frustration is bottled and swells until she can no longer contain it.
She shakes with fury
And quakes her terrain until it splits,
Overflows her volcanoes,
And slides rocks down her hills and glaciers.
But when she sees the sorrow in your eyes, she stops.
She understands you are flawed
And never meant her any harm.
She nestles you into a peaceful place
And feeds your weary body fruit from her flesh
And love from her core.

Long Poems