Emerald green that shines on
gleaming green jewel bug
Algae green of the serene pond
And there swim the shoveler ducks
Harlequin green from areca leaves pinnate
Softly grins when sunrays gently penetrate
And the dark green on betel leaves
Oh ho, the deep red on tongue it leaves
Light green of the Mandevilla
That climbs high to shine bright
Mixed hues of the leaves of taro root
And turquoise green on the crystal clear Lake
O! The iridescent green hues
of peafowls whose vibrant colors ooze
off his pretty long feathers,
Do I need to apprise further?
Green paddy field glares
And sways like a girl's hair
Teal green from singing river
Accumulates minerals and delivers
Did I mention the grass green?
Hey! Isn't our earth's screen?
Raising that lustrous curtain,
unfolds vivid scene by scene
Our earth breaths through these shades of green
Without these green, there is no pleasant scenes
Categories:
areca, earth, green, happiness,
Form: Rhyme
Took height as a gunman but not a terrorist,nor a hero,no harm to anyone my gun is innocent as I,do no harm gun my.
A small piece of bamboo a through,the stick from Areca the trigger to push.A small wild berry cartridge to shoot with my gun.
To a berry rolls into gun,the stick shoots to press.A sound together with smoke flows out.A thrilling experience my gun added to my youth to win.
The wild berries aren’t wild as says, innocent not killing,these blue berries aren’t so why?
Categories:
areca, adventure, blessing, children, creation,
Form: Blank verse
He rolls up and
down on life’s
surface as a
droplet on the
*colocasia leaf.
He never walks
with his life
hand in hand.
While heaping
up yellow metal
and rupee on the
side-walk, green
life gets wasted
in his mind’s nook.
Time passes with
pastimes, but he
doesn’t see.
Now his body
and arm-chair
are antique alike.
He stays afloat
like a banana
stem. He chews
bits of areca-nut
wrapped in betel,
smeared with a
nip of lime. He
spits red shapeless
fury into a brass
spittoon. His lazy
children grow up
on the mount of
money. Often
Kaaka smokes a
beedi. Curls of
futility rise up.
*Colocasia is a tropical plant with its leaves
having a natural ultrahydrophobic surface.
First appeared in The Literary Hatchet.
Categories:
areca, life,
Form: Free verse
Jade scythes
of areca fronds
slice slate air;
Medusa's snakes writhe.
Pewter arrows pierce
my garden.
I sit beneath an eave
pondering
the nascent storm.
Geraniums cloister
like vestal butterflies
in darkening loam
as a multitude
of emerald tufts
bend on the fleeing lawn.
5/12/18
Categories:
areca, garden, imagery, rain,
Form: Imagism
Everyone calls her ‘bad’
I’ve never seen her sad,
She is vivid on own fad,
For her I am mad!
Her lips are tangerine from beetle stains,
Her fingertips contain henna stains,
Watching her I evaporate my stains.
When she is in pain, it really rains.
She is a dark woman, whom all hates,
She is a taboo, whom they tolerate,
I want to tear up her outer façade.
She wears a coiled “bindi” on her forehead,
She is miles away from being sacred,
Still, she doesn’t deserve this much hatred.
She chews tobacco with areca nuts,
She pops tobacco and cashew nuts,
Everybody hates the way she smacks,
Kohl pencil makes her eyes dark,
Her attitude makes her ever darker,
I hope her “bindi” glows in the dark,
She demolishes all the perks.
For her, I am total jerk.
I love her silver jewelries,
She, herself is a revelry,
I love the sound of her bangles,
I love the way her waist-chain dangles.
She beads traditional woman tattoo on skin,
She doesn’t live in anyone else’s skin.
Her forehead accumulates the power,
She is the solo woman in sun-shower,
She is a mix of sacred and secret,
She is never a taboo,
She is life’s hullabaloo,
She is the hymn of voodoo!!
Categories:
areca, beautiful, blessing, body, woman,
Form: Free verse