If it were the sun, it could be bright, warm, or shiny.
If it were the moon, it could be chilled, peaceful,
and beautiful. If it could not be understood,
it could not be love. If it was not, then
it could be more than it.
Though it may mitigate the pain, it is love.What if?
The purplish brinjal shed its purpleness, just as the
love shed interest.
The road somehow changes its direction toward the destination. But what if destiny has changed?
Although destiny is the same, only the way is
changed. That is how it is working.
Like the love scars as the lovely scars.
The precocious but unconscious heart.
O Cowherd, my fellow cowherd
Let's quickly drag the river walk
Fun walk with the wash cattle
Take the bamboo tube, and charcoal.
Look quick the sun came out midday
Does buck tilak on forehead
Bring mustard oil, to nails.
Don't forget, the calabash of garland and brinjal.
O Cowherd, my fellow cowherd
The house to clean
And don't forget to take the new rope
Today is to reject the old rope.
Let's hurry and brinjal with calabash for dinner,
Let's go forward to cattle digilithi rod to beat.
once it so happened
potato was going to wed
with a lady's finger
invited band and singer
sweet potato came early
he was excited madly
then came the brinjal green
wrapped in the cloth with sheen
chief guests were cauliflowers
who came to blessed the lovers
party was orgainsed by ground
then came tomato red and round
everyone was enjoying tea
then their came a group of pea
they began playing all around
then came the ugly bitter
ground
carrot and radish came late
as they had to wash the plate
music was high and kinky
shocking entered zuchini
then came their enemy
with a union
at last made the blast
the wily onion
For some one pork is good
For some one chicken
as choices are different
in own style let items be eaten
I like fleshy soft Fish
to have minimum calories
cooked with soya oil with brinjal
and with black eyed peas
God bless every one
With happy Good Luck meal
in the Happy 2012 New Year
let's all we deal
Sponsored by: Russell Sivery
Written by: bldevnath
on 07/01/2012
the open-hair magnolia remains standing
putting a hand on the window-bar
of the camellia
sometimes
i think of knowing from her
through sending a pink-letter
who have gone in the fall of night
crossing the border
on foot
and who have like to deposit
the spoilt water-chestnut
on the obsolete narrow-gauge
does the wild moon ever take hot water
from the slow river-quay of this city
following the rein-deer
it seems
his t-shirt has also disappeared
the pictorial cave-writings gradually
putting their flag down
on the cornice of clouds
that return home in the evening
even-then
why the sinthi with it flows
has smeared so much green
even-then
on this operation table
which wind brings in
so much lemon leaves
and why
so much light of carried off in a flood
has overflowed the blossoms of the brinjal
Silence is white
and ruing is black
then what is ruing silence......guess some shade of grey or slate
I was grey..ruing silence kind
in deep grief..which was blue
I had irritation and peeved full, which is red
peeved grief is ,then,I guess brinjal purple or some shade
grey and purple me was angry, moreover
as angry as white
I had stabbing instincts like a dark black villain
I was back to some shade of grey or slate
I was throbbing and blinking colors
the grey matter conjured all that up
guess it is a color that helps us prod on
from one state to another
life is a lie and life is a truth
all is relative and nothing absolute
it is all random
and on a number line
that runs both sides
so infinite
a random that is yet defined
for you can see the number line
but not come to its ends
our each mental state is a number on such line
unique and well defined
and nothing but
just a shade
of basic colors
that grey matter harbors.
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