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Best Dr.Ram Mehta Poems

Below are the all-time best Dr.Ram Mehta poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Dr.Ram Mehta Poem

Ode to beauty-w

strophe

I stand on the snow covered mountain
Colorful vase of flowers
Slopes  with flower beds laden
I saw the snow lotus flowers
I asked, “Why are you all alone here?
Beauty is meant to be adored.
Should give yourself to somebody
Before your petals fall to dust soon, dear.
What if I crushed your petals, I asked
As at these heights, you are quite lonely”..

antistrophe

One of the flowers quickly responded
“I enjoy the shelter of blue skies.
I would be too glad
If you choose  to crush my petals
My fragrance will spread everywhere.
Fulfilling the purpose and duty
If destroyed, not admired.
By plucking my petals, remember
You won’t gather my beauty,
Beauty is to see, not to be plucked'.

epode

“O’ lotus, you teach wisdom to man
Praise her beauty, don’t destroy her. 
It is the gladdest thing under the sun
Touch a hundred flowers not pick ever”
O’ man, pluck not wayside flower even 
It is the traveler’s dowers.
Silently a flower blooms alone
And in silence it falls down
If I am worth many pleasures,
I think I am too few then”.

===================================
June 15, 2014
Form : Ode
First Place win in
Contest: My favorite poem by Carol Eastman
===================================
Form: Ode (the Homostrophic or Horatian Ode)
Rhyme scheme: ABABCDECDE (Ten lines)
Second place winner in
Contest: Ode sponsored by Jared Pickett

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
This is the  English Ode, also called the Homostrophic or Horatian Ode. 
The Romantic Ode often followed the Irregular Ode's structure 
and the Homostrophic Ode's meditative quality.
====================================

The poem also won the second place in the International Poetry
Contest of 2011 by Poetry Soup.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


Details | Dr.Ram Mehta Poem

Breathe in the silence-w

I hear sounds of the wind hissing and rustling.
I listen on the beach to the waves cascading,
Slapping, tossing swashing the sand pebbles,
Something close to eternity within me touches. 

I see some gliding fishing boats over there, 
The seagulls soaring, gliding in the air here,
And Surfers trying to get rides on the waves 
Something close to eternity within me touches. 

I watch people running, strolling and sunning,
Setting sun promise to rise tomorrow morning
Like the human ambitions and unknown desires
Something close to eternity within me touches.

I notice the crabs scurry, somewhere hiding,
Leaving smooth bed of sand, water receding,
All sounds now receding to its minimum hiss.
Something close to eternity within me touches.

This silence rubs, softens me, gives a purpose
I find even my pains are held in this silence
Surrender my self-importance, my smallness
Something close to eternity within me touches.

===============================
Sixth Place Win in:
Contest: Breathe in the silence sponsored by Paula Swanson


Details | Dr.Ram Mehta Poem

The Poetic Justice

As legend has it, there lived Bai Balkhash, a rich man
In the North regions of the then Soviet Kazakhstan
Had a beautiful daughter Ili who was without her Smiley
So Balkhash held a feast with a contest to win Ili.

Ili, loved a shepherd called Karatal and easily managed
For Karatal to win the contest of the grooms  staged
But Karatal followed the ancient tradition of love stories
Wherein the fathers were supposed to oppose the realities.

Now the lovers had no option but to run away and marry
And the angry father had no options to go contrary
So he turned them into rivers and himself a lake between.
Made himself a laughing stock taking water from rivers twin.

Today’s reality is Kazakhstan and China using Ili’s water
Poetic justice done, the lake drying, two rivers dying forever.

                                  ********
Burlesque Form

======================================

Dr. Ram Mehta
7th place win in:
Contest: Beloved Poem by Giorgio Veneto   - 



 






 


Details | Dr.Ram Mehta Poem

Quo Vadis poetry, a damsel in distress-w

Captive damsel of creative-writing programs,   
Personalized, eulogized job of small groups,  
The frenetic activities handy to very few,  
Poetry now belongs to a subculture hew. 

We have accredited professional poets,   
Creative writing teachers at all levels,  
Composing computer- created poetry, 
Creating illusion of the Golden Age artistry. 

These professional poets have secured
Their own niches in the academic world, 
They cry over the spilt milk like jackals
Snarling over a dried-up well with no aims.

Quantitative work is guaranteed success,
Accuracy, meaning, technique matters less. 

=================================
Fourth place winner
Contest: Poetry for poetry's sake of Paula Swanson
Quo Vadis is a Latin phrase meaning "Where going"


Details | Dr.Ram Mehta Poem

God's Kind of Poetry

An eagle finds the highest mountain to build its nest
And lays the first layer of nest with sharp objects
Such as thorns and stones for the unborn with zest
And next, covering that layer with soft targets,
Such as wood, feathers and the animal fur.
So as the baby birds are hatched, gets protection.
As they grew a bit, the mother eagle takes 
The nest materials and mixes them up.
The jumbled mass is now a mix of sharp and soft
And sometimes sharp edges may cut babies’ skin.
And next, the mother stops putting food 
From her mouth to the mouths of the babies.
Making their comfortable world into painful one.
The discomfort becomes so great for the babies
They begin to fly away to get out of the nest.

This analogy of God explains the value of pains.
We don’t seek god when happy and comfortable
We turn to him only in times of troubles.
God does whatever it takes help eagles fly
It’s a wake-up call to teach every one of us
Not too much indulge in physical comforts.
God removes the soft coverings to remind us
That this life is painful and full of sufferings
And its solution is to soar in spiritual realms.

                        +++
September 25, 2014
Form: Free Verse
Dr. Ram Mehta
First Place Win
Contest: God's kind of poetry by BriAN Johnston


Details | Dr.Ram Mehta Poem

Mentor, O My Mentor -w

On this day I complete on the earth       
*Seventy five years, one regret                
My children and grand children                
Surrounding me with love                          
Reminds me go back                                    
My childhood                                                
Days I missed                                                     
With my                                                         
Dad.                                                                

Dad                                                                   
Caring                                                               
My mentor                                                      
Sacrificing                                                        
Everything for me                                          
Worked in rustic village                                
Living alone, cooking bread                         
On rustic stove, living sage life                    
Putting me in high-school in a town.          

He didn’t live to see what I have scored  
Himself primary school teacher                 
No chance, surrounding him ever.             
Me lust busy upstairs                                    
Dad dying downstairs                                   
In the morning                                               
Lay in bed                                                         
uncared                                                           
Dead.

===================================================== DR.Ram Mehta
Sixth place win of Linda Marie

                       



Details | Dr.Ram Mehta Poem

Snow-snow-snow everywhere-w

A man made of snow
Some kids gave him candle and wick
Turned to H2O

Snowflakes dance and wave
Like my Christmas memories
Unique but soon gone

Frosty wind made moan
And earth stood as hard as steel…
Snow on snow on snow.

Advice is like snow
Falls softer but dwells longer
Sinks deeper in mind

Snowflakes fragile things
But just look what they can do
When they stick together.

Fifty two snow names
Important for Eskimo 
As many for love.

========================

First place winner in:
Contest: Snow Haiku sponsored Irma, SKAT


Details | Dr.Ram Mehta Poem

Pyramus-Thisbe - a selfless love-W

Pyramus was the handsome young man
Thisbe the fair maiden of Babylon.
The houses of their parents did adjoin 
Neighborhood brought the two in relation.
And the acquaintance ripened into love
And the fire within them burnt with bright glow.
Would have married, but their parents forbid
Ardor in hearts of both they couldn’t forbid
They did converse by signs, one can think of
The fire within them burnt like glow covered
But Venus doesn’t always befriend true love.

They found crack in wall that parted the houses
In spared passage for tender messages
Caused by fault in the wall of the mansion
What will not love find for satisfaction!
They passed the tender messages of love
As the night fell they said farewell with awe
Moving backward and forward through the gap
She on her side, he on his, kissed the gap.
One morn the sun put out the stars above
From the watchful eyes, they tried to slip up
But Venus doesn’t always befriend true love.

Then Thisbe stole forth as agreed upon
Unobserved, her head covered with a veil
Out of city’s bounds edifice well known
Waited for Pyramus near a fountain trail.
In the dim light she descried a lioness
Nearing the fountain with blood reeking jaws
With a recent slaughter to slake her thirst.
She fled dropping her veil out of fright.
After quenching thirst turned back for her cove
Renting the veil in bloody mouth on her retreat
But Venus won’t always befriend true love.

Having delayed Pyramus arrived there
Saw footsteps of the lioness in the sand
And found the veil all bloody over there
Crying picked up the rent veil in his hand.
Thought himself to be the cause of her death
Covering the veil with kiss and with tear
And said, come ye lioness tear with your teeth
Let my blood also shall stain your texture.
He plunged sword into his heart with a shove
Blood spurted, tingling the tree with red color
But Venus doesn’t always befriend true love.

Thisbe stepped out not to disappoint him
She noticed the change in the tree’s color
In the agonies of death she saw him.
A shudder ran as ripple in still water.
She saw her veil and his scabbard empty.
He has slain himself for her sake only.
She said, “I could be brave and follow thee
Death alone couldn’t prevent my joining thee
Love and death join us, one tomb be our grove”
She plunged the sword in her breast near the tree
But Venus doesn’t always befriend true love.

Envoi 
Such tale of the self-less love presented
The two bodies in one tomb were buried 
Pyramus-Thisbe tale our hearts do move
Berries serve memorials of their blood
But Venus doesn’t always befriend true love.


                           +++
Dr. Ram Mehta
Second Place win
Contest: Your favourite poem by Giorgio Veneto

**Chant royal [shahn rwa-yal], 
A French verse form normally consisting of five stanzas of eleven 10-syllable lines 
rhyming ababccddede, followed by an envoi (or half-stanza) rhyming ddede. The last 
line of the first stanza is repeated as a refrain at the end of the succeeding stanzas and 
of the envoi. The pattern is similar to that of the ballade, but even more demanding. 88


Details | Dr.Ram Mehta Poem

A haven of repose-w

Solitude value
Depends on one’s self only
Prison, heaven, hell
It may be sanctuary, 
As we ourselves make it up.


==============================

Fifth place winner in

Contest: T(H)anka Me by Chris Aeichtner


Details | Dr.Ram Mehta Poem

Ram Reincarnated-w

In this life I have seen beauty
With its majesty and cruelty.
I believe in reincarnation doctrine
Would like to be butterfly divine.

A pure beauty of rainbow colors
Not as civilized as men who prefers
To have half of the happiness
And the longevity much in excess.

Would count moments not years
Flirting freely around without fears
Fire is beautiful its beauty kills
Care not if at all its beauty thrills.

Better to burn up for the beauty
Than long bored life without a cutie.  


=================================
Dr. Ram Mehta
Second Place win in:
Contest: If I was an Animal, What Would I be sponsored by Kristen bruni


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