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Best Poems Written by Swamidhason Francis

Below are the all-time best Swamidhason Francis poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Dreams and Reality

Dreams and Reality

I met her in the Book-Fair, three days the fair lasted
And she was spotted on all days, browsing and buying my books
Eyeing me without talking; I could read her mind in her looks
As the tip of her lip touched my book cover image. The posted

Message on the wall of my heart conveyed her dreams and fixed
Them across my mind. So, I took the first step and blasted her diffidence
With a gentle smile, getting a charming smile with a girlish confidence.
That’s it; with ignited throbs we spent days; she then asked, ”What next?”

“A Long Poem in the pipeline and a pulp fiction in printing,”
She seemed bewildered. And we finished the day without talking more.
The next day, she was more silent, and then asked in haste, “What more?”
“A Mock Epic for my taste and a Romantic fiction to make it trending.”

I talked about books and more books as she talked with her looks; mere looks!
And we parted there, like crooks; realizing- life is more than books and looks!

Copyright © Swamidhason Francis | Year Posted 2015



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MY SINGING STAR

MY SINGING STAR

Annual days in our University existed before too, only in annals,
Until the day, she on the ramp thrilled our hearts that came to the ears;
We had ‘Abbey Road on the River’; we lived in our souls and became ears,
That heard the first time ‘unheard melodies’ reverberating through Lit annals.

The Nightingale of India would’ve left her oriole and put her in musical panels;
The roaring Moor would’ve left Desdemona to live, riveting his ears for years,
The brooding Ruth would’ve left her diffidence to dance sprightly for years,
To the thrill of her voice, sounding end to sittings of juries, forever in annals.

She could’ve sung ‘they’re gonna make a big star out of me,’
But, that would’ve rivaled the great Beatles; she could’ve her ‘Jai Ho’ 
That would’ve made Mozart of Madras again dedicate glory to Him.

Lyrics she required not, for, it’s in the listeners’ glee;
Lyres she required not, her voice throbs humans in harmony, robbing ego;
Life is un-lived, if you have no ears for my singing star, not even Him.



 
 

Copyright © Swamidhason Francis | Year Posted 2015

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No Selfie Dear, Elfie

No Selfie Dear…an Elfie
	
Students in Thailand stood in front,
They clicked, clicked and clicked many a selfie;
Standing behind, the elephant posed,
Posed and posed silently for many a selfie.
They tired him and his stretched trunk
Got no fruits or eatables; they were for only selfie.
The big friend’s hungry eyes their tab eyed
To eat, but on touch, the screen gave out an ‘elfie’!

Copyright © Swamidhason Francis | Year Posted 2015

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Grandma's Beard

Grandma's Beard

Once the great grandma had beard;
But the goat had a kick for her beard.
For a pageant he hired it one day
And never returned.
Look, he wears it till today!

Copyright © Swamidhason Francis | Year Posted 2015

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The Amputated Leg

The Amputated Leg 

A human leg it is! With senses numbed the village stood around the dump;
It’s a curse! Righteous path we diverted, in shiver, the devotees driveled;
A dog might have dragged it, in what’s app, the android fingered techie drooled;
Consult the occultist, shouted the stout village chief and all became dumb.

Mumbling Sanskrit lines, the temple priest came with Ganges water to damp
The rumbling evil with a sprinkle; Holding their breath tout like Chiseled 
Idols stood the village as he summoned the deities reciting mantras unrivalled;
‘Sacrifice one leg of pet or cattle per family to our goddess in her holy ramp,’

Pronounced the priest, in bold piety; they heard him in rapt devotion.
Then came the info youth at the cutting edge of both tech and culture
With police personnel and a dog to sniff out the path of the offenders;

The crisp kakis deftly parceled the amputated leg without any emotion
Off to forensic probe, pilfering the priest’s fee with their faith and culture;
And the dog barked at the careless Nurses, for dumping the leg without defenders.




Copyright © Swamidhason Francis | Year Posted 2015



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THE SECOND FALL

                               THE SECOND FALL! 

Angels of lightening kneeled before Him flashing, “Everything is over!”
His look cast cusp of Cosmos, thundering across the change-over;
Adam in guilt hid his soul in Tree of life; Eve behind him hid her face;
Only Lucifer under the Knowledge Tree showed his face.
“Look!” Heavenly Atoms daunted as the Sundown morn 
In fumes and fogs waned into night with moods of mourn;
“Alas! Alas! The creatures of clay with His breathing image,
In unbridled pursuit to conquer the cosmos ‘ve done this damage.”
Mountains lay scattered as dust over woods and land,
Oceans lay hidden inside heaps of mud and dunes of sand.
Life became a whispered secret of the extinct universe,
Read in classes only by cosmic cherubim, only in divine verse.
“Adam braced to conquer genetic mystery and lost Eden in fleeting coital ecstasy,
“His sons braced to conquer cosmic mystery and lost Globe in digital fantasy!
 “It’s daunting,” heaven’s denizens opined, “it’s humanity’s indefinite, infinite fall!”
The great bard William would’ve exclaimed, “What a fall! What a fall!”
But the great puritan John would’ve claimed, “It’s indeed the second fall!”
                                                                                                                  - Swami D. Francis
                                                                                                                 


Copyright © Swamidhason Francis | Year Posted 2015

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MY LOST LEGACY

My Lost Legacy

At the land’s end I stand, like my ancestors of Indus-Valley
Looking for my lost legacy, while the tri-sea emitted in hue
Dishes once prepared for celestial wedding but poured in adieu 
Into its mouth, as sand, shells and beads, in repeated dilly-dally.

At the land’s end I stand, like rishi Agastya, who captured
Whole River in his rage, once stood here on mission to level
Peninsula Bharat as world converged for Siva’s marital revel
In Himalayas; if crow marooned his rage, row my riches ruptured.

At the land’s end I stand, like Parasurama who in a sober mood
Once wielded his axe pushing Arabian Sea to make a land, lush
With peppers, heating even snake Vasuki to vomit in holy blush;
If paternal command made his matricide, fratricide pursued our feud.

At the land’s end I stand where once stood Ramakrisna’s disciple
After stirring conscience of world in Chicago; beyond here was held
Assembly of great litterateurs ere the second was in temple city held;
If ocean immersed my land and literature, emotion forged our typal.

At the land’s end I stand still, as hands of time forever pull sun
From eastern bay in its zeal of morn, only to push it down western
Sea sealing day on its rolling wheel; legacy once to powers western
I lost; I seek once again, striving with vigor tirelessly like the sun.


Copyright © Swamidhason Francis | Year Posted 2015

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Ode to Ustad, the Celebrity Tiger

Ode to Ustad, the Celebrity Tiger


Is it true Ustad , you’ve divided humans?
Is it true, you killed all the four humans?
Is it true, you are dismissed from Ranthambore Reserve as “problem animal”?
Is it true, you licked the blood of Rampal Saini, after butchering him animal?
Is it true, you feel homesick 400 km away in Udaipur Bio Park?
Is it true, you posed as celebrity causing conversion of RTR into park?
Oh, Ustad, what a huge fan following!
The envy of our netas and film divas will be following.
Look at the explosion of protest for you in social media;
Your fans have set twitter on fire and outraged all media.
Log in and read tweets #jesuisustad, #boycottRTR# and #BringUstadback,
Back to back debates, arguments, and shouts, your roar they back,
From UAE to the US and Australia
And even from the land of queen Alia!
The anchors in BBC, Al Jazeera and The Daily Mail too carry your story;
They all back ownership of territory, your ‘man eater’ tag not a worry.
Never has humanity seen a beautiful tiger like you;
Never had they photographed any primate like you;
Even the matinee idols dream of a swagger like you
And your curves and swerves; none is admired like you.
If at any time you plan to retire, lend us for a day your roar,
With which we’ll still the post-modern horrors the globe abhor.  


Copyright © Swamidhason Francis | Year Posted 2015

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The Peak is Really Lonely

The Peak is Really Lonely

When my mind I unlocked inside to go to places unknown
On the wings of poesy, when my quill hungered for more
And more lyrics churning between pun and spin, more
And more into spheres of membranes hitherto unknown

To my conscious mind I uncovered, and wrote things unknown.
Oh, if imagination charted my ways into future more and more,
Memory of my cells pulled me into the minds more and more
Of my ancient ancestors, down, down into times unknown.

But between future enticements and past entitlements lost
I my fleeting present, and began to live only in my writing;
Where am I? 
What am I? 
And why does my family feel lonely?

‘What a beautiful mind!’ 
‘What a beautiful head, he has lost!’
Their laments are so silent, so away, away; 
Still biting, still smiting,
My psyche with love; 
Slowly, slowly, I feel the truth; 
The peak is really lonely.

Copyright © Swamidhason Francis | Year Posted 2015

Details | Swamidhason Francis Poem

THE RAISED HAND

THE RAISED HAND

‘Hold my hand’ said the mom, breezing across with a raised hand;
The traffic obeyed her hand; the boy too held on and ran across.
I learned a lesson; waving my hand like a leader, I tried to cross.
Brakes were pressed; wheels avoided me; I stood with one hand,

Frozen in mid-road; ‘crazy fellow’ shouts circled me and my hand.
They made me a ramp, nay; a statue; moms and boys still ran across,
As I stood there still; girls giggled; some winked; slowly I tried to cross;
A look of surprise stilled the road as I walked across with my hand.

‘The sixty year statue on Parker road vanished’ tweets trended in android;
Soon WhatsApp made videos viral; trips were made to look at the ramp,
Built in memory there soon after; built to appease many a Tabloid,

With a raised hand; pedestrians take selfies with the hand in android;
Girls ask boys to take them to the road, to the hand and to the ramp.
On the road, time stood still once, my hand stands like an eternal Tabloid.

Copyright © Swamidhason Francis | Year Posted 2015

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