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Best Mehnaz Veetil Poems

Below are the all-time best Mehnaz Veetil poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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A Kiss In My Dream

       ...Stars
       shine soft,
   The kiss, yours
Ablaze,deep,eyes lull
            Eternal...

Copyright © Mehnaz Veetil

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Dancing Eunuchs Of India

                       Dancing Eunuchs Of India
Eunuchs they were, who sang at doorsteps for alms
At birth and death alike; blessed the bride and groom too.
They danced their dark bodies heavily gyrating,with
 busted breasts, hairy chest and hefty forms tightly clad 
in saris candy colored ,sequined and six feet long.
Painted smiles, jingling bangles, tinkling anklets
sang bawdy ballads  of glorified virgins and stillborn children,
in a third gender voice-a hostile blend of two opposite sexes.


01/11/2013
Mehnaz Veetil
Entry for 8 lines contest on a native culture, sponsored by Debbie Guzzi 


Note: Most of the eunuchs in India live by begging. They normally come out in groups of about five to ten and spread out in streets approaching small shops and restaurants for alms. Normally people give them alms out of fear of being cursed. It is widely believed in India that the curse of a "hijra" is very effective; same with their blessings. They offer to dance at small family functions like naming ceremonies of newborn children, weddings and other village functions. 

Copyright © Mehnaz Veetil

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In A Hotel Room

The ghats,grey serpents in green thickets
cool and moist, dampens restless midgets

There ,in  a hotel ,in the lushness of the tropic's crown
are trees mighty tall with neat flights of stairs hanging down.

stood  perched on trees, a cabin each of uneven logs
with wooden planks hand-polished to parqueted  floors


A large cypress cot,an inviting bed ,the sensuous Umrao-Jaan
on canvas overhead, glowing in hues from a crystal pan

white porcelain figures, lovers dancing  on mantle;love lounges,
windows open to wild flora , a few ripe mangoes hanging in bunches

On the rails ruddy jasmine vines flaunt little white stars
antique bamboo lanterns at the door , happy to be ajar
 
warm aroma from oils of wild-herb toiletries exude
wanting a trickle on the heated hearts' pursuit

cute candles whispers roses and jasmine in the air
nothing more,  the imp of the mind feasts on love in the air. 

on the small balcony , the cool breeze of the underwoods caress
In this tree-house,bask in nature...at its best to soothe five senses. 

Copyright © Mehnaz Veetil

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A Life Lost

A Life Lost


    blue ocean waters
jewel- like fishes abode
   old sucker -cat dies..




*my sweet n brave goldy(golden sucker cat fish)dies of white spot disease . :-(

Copyright © Mehnaz Veetil

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Mother, Middle Aged

Mother, Middle Aged.


Forlorn, she sinks into the abyss of a middle aged
mother,  her pupae no longer the apple of her eye.
Baffled, she sees her cocoon tear open and barge
hastily, fumbling in quest of sham grown ups’ pride.
A mother she remains, middle aged. Spiteful and void.

Copyright © Mehnaz Veetil

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Haiku

         
                  pen delivers
              thought into word--
                     baby cries

Copyright © Mehnaz Veetil

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Burning Embers

I close my eyes
Feel my heart on fire,
coal set scorching in subterranean mine. 

Now, must I pluck out
this fire burning , siphon this out
these drooling embers?

I am not to be blamed. Please,
I didn't start it, I only kept it ablaze,
with that tiny spark you blew in. 

I love these golden flecks
they hold me in  a fiery fantasy, a fairy
with wings of love and a sparkling magic wand. 

Look, can't you see,
our dark silhouettes an entwined beauty
drenched in the heat of unguarded love ..

I am the moth
drawn to your passion's flame
dancing wild as tomorrow never comes.

Protect me, from your fire,
this golden trance I love so dear, 
to dust may I burn
in embers you feed my heart! 
Happily so...,what if tomorrow never comes?

For Gail 's Burning Embers contest...
02.17.2013

Copyright © Mehnaz Veetil

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Greed Wins


                                                         Greed Wins


                       Fate fetched them crushed in a crash, faint in hopes  
                                broken limbs, sober spirit, side by side
                                One by the window, the other beside .
                              They lay in room pale blue, chlorine chores.
                       Months together, movements knelled, they lay forth,
                        new found friends , out ‘a window small, one pried, 
                      Mouthed beauties there, to keep his pal’s smile bright
                             Other but heard, prayed, at this fortune swore,

                                His pal be slain, he be blessed with sights 
                          outside. Lo! Next dark day snatched the good soul
                            The lone peer blessed. Soon, he sent his eyes
                             Outdoors, on an old bleak wall, nothing more
                                Drained in spirit he cursed his greed wry 
                                   “Beautifully lied ...he kept me alive”


Italian Sonnet, pentameter,rhyme scheme  abbaabba  cdcd bb

Mehnaz Veetil

Copyright © Mehnaz Veetil

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Passionately Yours,

             Passionately Yours


         Hills of joy we rode ahead,
    Down the valleys sweet we buoyed;
         Like  river merging ocean,
              Solace I devoured.

Copyright © Mehnaz Veetil

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ON THIS TREASURE HAVEN : CONFESSIONS OF A SOUPER


ON THIS TREASURE HAVEN : CONFESSIONS OF A SOUPER


Forever is the word I quoth here
For how long I want to be here

Creativity powered  with watts of battery
On this lovely haven of flowing poetry

Oh , a flashback of this tale I would like to share
ever when I held up a poem  with talents spare,

cold douche froze my buds of passions raw
up on the mind where frustrations  sat and thawed

I wandered long ,before I stumbled upon here
words I scribbled on almost everywhere,

seasoned with emotions from mundane to rare
and tossed and turned till it dulled and grayed.

Some poked  with a 'now what' ,and a few sighed,  
a few ignored , many dug  with words which pacified.

Just a couple or two came thumbs up
pulling out the deep thorns of years ' rump.

Past is past , and I don't care , now on the Soup I dwell
With the soup I rise and I fall, on the Soup are my tidings as well

Lost in lyrical  rainbows ,dinner and shower a pineal clock reminder
With amazing  poet pals , treasures from distant worlds meander...

Forever is the word I quoth here
For how long I want to be here

Creativity powered  with watts of battery
On this lovely haven of flowing poetry....


Copyright © Mehnaz Veetil

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