In my kitchen, there's a treasure,
scrumptious dinner, it helps me prepare.
Under pressure it combines flavors,
Serves proudly, mouthwatering savors.
This wonder made of stainless steel,
Shines like a star among my utensils.
Rice, beans, soup, or stew,
Ready in a flash for the whole crew.
Safety valve and rubber gasket,
Ensure this helper is not a threat.
Though it shrieks like a train,
This gadget is a faithful friend.
I rely on this device a lot,
As it gives peace to my heart.
So, here's to the pressure cooker's plea,
Transforming ingredients into a glee!
Prayer will Solve by being a Safety Valve poems only.com/ twitter/ facebook/ linked in/ ibeu/g/ sb/ brk/ ooetry soup
Prayer can cure any malady
It can arrest the worst tragedy
It will save us from every jeopardy
Please use prayer as a remedy
Prayer can be brief and short
It must come out from heart
God will surely play His part
As He will surely comfort
When a prayer is hopefully said
Peace then enters one's head
By Godly forces, one is led
One can with peace go ahead
Prayer offers mind the best cure
Due to prayer, nothing can injure
Prayer makes our heart pure
Solution via prayer is damn sure
Pray and pray and pray forever
God will end shiver and fever
God alone ditches us never
He only makes bliss flower.
A prediction for the unforeseeable
the somehow mishaps inescapable
and accidental omen to avoid
the illogical cat's-paw of capricious fate
irregular in it’s certainty
and a trip into oblivion's insecurity
And quick with madness comes within the snag of its trap
a fearful searchlight hunting darkness for an exit
a safety-valve to escape this orderly chaotic
to rape the mundane of it’s blessed intellect
stupidity is the face
indecorously it anticipates, the sporadic
Creating calendars and hours in tempos measurements
an organized emporium of disorganized events
occasionally indeterminate is its recompense
for the all too steady flow of time
the clock springs of the aeon
digitally unwind
With no embrace to harmonize the anarchy
instead the well ordered dystopia of make believe reality
and chaos simply is too simply out of control
and all this life is far too erratically, unpredictable
so save this lunacy, save it from the clown of chance
luck would keep us sane
all ribbons and bows keep it in a well presented box
and if by the enchantments of its chain
save us from the risky cat’s paw of capricious fate
The Bench
Here sits a man in a park
lost for the world,
he was trying to break down banalities.
Not knowing that 99% of our daily
conversations consist of trivialities,
Without this safety valve
people would be trying too hard to say
something sensible
and end up alone in a park
The Bench
Here sits a man in a park
lost for the world,
he was trying to break down banalities.
Not knowing that 99% of our daily
conversations consist of trivialities,
Without this safety valve
people would be trying too hard to say
something sensible
and end up alone in a park
A woman in rags with beautiful skin
Rusticity seen all over looking for a job
To her the village sky was too small to win
She wanted to soar in a city sky to probe.
Moved to the city so many miles apart
With her husband & daughter with wishes.
After some years the life gave a good start,
Her husband was attacked by paralysis
Lying in broken bed numb as a wound
Her salty tears deforming tiles of the premises
A life’s funeral procession was on its round
The man who loved her tore her to pieces.
She was still a beauty, accepted another
He made her laugh till she was in tears all
To her soul tears were like summer shower
She was happy that tears were enthralled.
As the time passed when her beauty doomed
Embellishing her neck and wrists with jewels
Used rouge, kohl and hair artfully combed
No semblance of the beauty with which she ruled
Heard the heavy steps on stairs in the night
Leading but to the bedroom of her daughter
Tears in eyes, heart torn, killed him with spite
Again cure for her was salty sweat and tears.
+++++++
April 4, 2014
Form : Rhyme
Quite a piece of work to deal with
like a challenge in a game;
outraged by certain reactions
reveal the heart of being home,
true, human and vulnerable.
Perhaps it’s also a way to release
one’s anger in an open space,
walking briskly or without any thought
just a mere response – owning it
with creeping silence deep within.
Outdoor sports can help in any way,
a good safety valve to keep going;
with serenity and determination
that conquers evil in human reaction.
It’s coming to the fore – openness!
as another virtue to convey;
to live a life with so many wounds
will abound God’s grace to heal them all.