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Ritu Saheb Poem
The Great Plains
Vast expanse of land,
Virginal, pure, and yet shaped by man’s hands,
A rich and lustrous corn carpet,
An open land with distant horizon
Where man’s green fields and nature’s blue sky meet
Cows and deer fearlessly frolic
On man’s earth, bucolic
With the long spidery electrical wires,
The tall water sprinkler towers
That the cornfield requires
Lone truckers headed to distant cities,
With microwaves, shoes, juice boxes, and other nitty-gritties
Loaded with goods of everyday need,
Unable to ignore this picture painted by man
Cruising at a ginger speed
In this isolation, man’s cares are forgotten,
He abandons his city life rotten
Incredible peace gently seeps,
The deep, satisfying solitude
For an eternity in his mind he keeps
He will again roam the vast land with a new sense of freedom,
Re-live his life as sacred
Such are the magnanimous Great Plains of this wondrous land,
Which bring tears to my eyes
Dumbstruck, on this land of numerous possibilities I stand.
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Inspired by a cross-country Amtrak trip from New York City to Kingman, AZ
Copyright © Ritu Saheb | Year Posted 2016
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Ritu Saheb Poem
Numero Un:
To have and to hold,
A Midas,
Replete with gold.
Lord of mountain hideaway,
In Aspen,
For family play.
Manhattan penthouse
Zooming Ferrari,
Moneyed clout.
Powerful and homely,
Spawning ground,
Socially comely.
Numero Deux:
To have and to hold,
A Casanova,
The force behold.
Sleepless nights,
Expel,
Monotonous rites.
Playful fun,
Two bodies,
Orgasmically one.
Always game,
For another round,
Of the same.
Numero Trois:
To have and to hold,
An Aristotle,
Intellectually bold.
Philosophy spewing,
Questioning,
Tradition chewing.
Brainwork overtime,
Soaking,
Prose and rhyme.
Original mind,
Prejudices, immorality,
Left far behind.
3 husbands,
Heroes all 3,
All with virtuous qualities.
Ahh……………. fantasy,
3 rolled into 1
Can it ever be?
Copyright © Ritu Saheb | Year Posted 2016
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Ritu Saheb Poem
An Immigrant Hymn (my story against Trump)
Must be difficult, to unlearn,
Everything you once knew,
New ways quickly learn,
A different way accept as true.
Must be difficult, to get used,
To faces white and black,
To internalize new skills and,
Master the foreign with an easy knack.
Must be difficult, more than the ways,
To tragically leave behind,
The feel of rainy tropical days,
Family and friends kind.
Must be difficult, to restart,
From the bottom of the ladder,
With your unusual accent part,
Keep memories from making you sadder.
But, yet you do it,
With great joy and pain,
To keep a promise to yourself,
Pursue happiness, hopefully NOT in vain!
By Ritu Saheb, AIA
(I first published this poem on Poemhunter in 2009)
Copyright © Ritu Saheb | Year Posted 2017
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