Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jasraj Sangani  Feb 2016
Mumbai
Jasraj Sangani Feb 2016
Mumbai is rich, Mumbai is poor.
Mumbai is fast, Mumbai is slower.
Little bit sweet, and little bit sour,
Sometimes it’s hot but not too more….

Mornings are energetic and evenings are electric.
Noons are lazy but Nights are crazy
And any one you ask he always say “M busy”
Dude, life in Mumbai is not so easy

There is lot of Masti with little bit of Maska
Welcome to the city that can’t live, without Bollywood Chaska

From cooker whistles to the traffic jam horns,
From steaming tea kettles to breaking nut-betels
From telephone rings and doorbell brings.
There are people connecting through Blackberry pings

Where there’s little time to spare for kids
People here spend their lives on bids
Here you actually pay your travel fare by meter
But milkman mixing water is not a cheater!

Sev puri and bhel puri are all Mumbai chaat
Relishing it with spicy chutney is no easy art
From pop-corn to ice-cream, all sold on cart
Mumbai o Mumbai, you’re always close to my heart

Where local trains usually run on time
And violently rushing for a seat is not a crime
Here 3 PM for lunch and 12 AM to dine
People face hardships, but still say “it’s fine”

From Mt Mary in Bandra to Mumba Devi in Town
And ISKCON in Juhu to Haji Ali in Mumbai’s Crown
Faith runs deep as the Arabian Sea
But people don’t hesitate to pay early darshan fee.

Marathi, Punjabi, Gujarati and Bengali
Everyone forgather celebrate Id and Diwali
Holi is colourful and Christmas is cheerful
Spend some time here and your life will be un-forgetful

Billionaire to baggers, all found in this city
Be careful dude, this place is a bit witty.
Overall this dream-world is huge but pretty
Mumbai o Mumbai you’re wonderful city.
Raphael Uzor Apr 2014
Slipping into my apron,
Hungry in body and soul
Humming as a song played...

I grab my knife and chop-board
Unsure of what to cook
Strange inspirations possess me
Filling me with *****!

My kitchen becomes a stage
In my hands- a plectrum and fretboard
Silver utensils- my live audience!

As I play divine recipes
Strumming master acoustic chords
Chopping fresh, colorful vegetables.

I dash to the remote,
Punch "Repeat" and dash back on stage
Landing on E♭ minor,
Scaling impossible notes,
I slice with razor-sharp plectrum,
On onions and other root chords
My fret arrayed with colors,
Of spinach, lettuce, tomatoes
Carrots, potatoes, olives
Pepper, cabbage and cucumbers.

I hear a thunder of applause
As I ignite the cooker
Butter sizzling in the hot pan
A staccato of sharp notes,
Ready to modulate innocent vegetables
Through spicy aromatic crescendos!


I fight hard to suppress a sneeze,
No sneezing on-stage! Unprofessional!
Multitudes of seconds rush by and…
Voila!!!

I stand for a moment
Salivating, awed at my bravura!
Wishing I could hang it on my wall
Tis beautiful like art
But I can’t eat this cake and have it!

So I dig in…
Heaven and earth kiss for a moment
L U S C I O U S!!!
Luckily, it didn’t taste nauseating
Like my last attempt.

No time for ceremonies
I munch from pan to mouth
Pausing for what may pass for a prayer,
I relish every bite!
Not that I’m a foodie or something,
But nothing beats this combo-
Of good food and soul music.

And yes,
Music is indeed food to the soul!
I devour, in view- the next meal...


© Raphael Uzor
Inspiration came while cooking and listening to Ayo’s And its Supposed to be Love
Tell me I'm not a foodie :-)
Lucky Queue Oct 2012
Blip. Blip. Blip
In the black of my room a red light pulses langorously on my phone
Steady green and blue lights and a rapid orange define the router across the room
Red digital numbers stand in the place of the clock
At precisely 6:00 am my alarm goes off(a deranged rooster entrapped in my phone)
A flick of a finger dismisses the crowing and the day has begun
After dressing and any other trivial task, I  am headed downstairs
A chik of the toaster
One beepbeepbeep of the microwave
More digital numbers, this time green, indicate that my bus comes shortly and I dash off
The headlights of the bus announce its presence half a block before it halts and the doors jerkily slide open
I text Graham from five feet away, because I don't yet know enough sign language
On the bus the driver may make an announcement, various lights and a few wires around her seat
School starts with a bell and the mindless herd shuffles in
The hallways bustle with the noise of teenagers chatting noisily, ipods playing, cells buzzing, beeping, texting
Homeroom and every period after is marked by a bell before and after until the last bell, freeing us from our institution of education
Now everyone is really alive and the clammer of sounds is three times as loud as the morning.
On the bus all but the most obnoxious are silent, closed off in their little world of a cellphone, ipod, or mp3
The kids file on and off the bus, only waking from their technology induced zombification to rapidly vocalize with their friends
Once I get home microwave humms as food is reheated or quickly cooked
The rice cooker is prepped and light flips on when plugged into the wall
Coffee maker may be set, and if my dad is home, his workspace is humming and light-pulsing as well
Brother and sisters argue over which tv show to watch or first computer turn while I'm wrapped up in my world of texting homework and poetry
Mom arrives from school and dinner is made
Stove humming loud and food stirfryed
Dinner no blips beeps or pulses matter, just the clinking of silverware and conversation
Afterwards, faucet runs dishes clattering while I wash
Imersion resumes and videos, games, and homework take over until bed
Teeth are brushed, pajamas donned, and members of this family mess around in bedroom before slowly transitioning to bed, and then sleep
So ends another day for me in the 21st century
Molly  Nov 2014
Brother
Molly Nov 2014
Your car is a pressure cooker for sibling combustibility and
you sound pretentious when you call me pretentious so
I turn to look out the window and not at
your smug face but I know that
soon I will turn back and you will not be there.
In your mind
anything that isn't inherently evil
deserves a high five
and it always leaves my palm
stinging,
so I leave you there
with your hand raised
and know that
soon I will raise mine but you will not be there.
You say "I love you" every day
and it always sounds like a joke,
sounds like you're teasing me with the fact that
I have to love you back but even so,
on the days when I refuse to say it to you I know that
soon I will tell you I love you and you will not be there.

I have watched you changed
shoe sizes and
heights and
dreams and
hair cuts and
best friends and
priorities, and
You have been by me through
moving days and
funerals and
breakups and
marriages and
sobbing nights and
cheerful mornings, and
I know that
you are a part of me,
and I know that
soon I will look for that part but you will not be there.
Preemptive sadness about my brother leaving
Jamjam  Apr 2018
Siyam na letra
Jamjam Apr 2018
"Mahal na mahal kita". Ang tangi tanging kataga na pumapasok sa isip ko pag kinakausap kita. Madaling sabihin, dalawang salita, siyam na letra
"Gusto kita" at "mahal kita" salitang kayang gawin ang lahat para sayo, mahirap man o madali dahil mahal kita

Sabi nga nila'y nababaliw na ako. Sa pag ngiti sa sulok tuwing nag iisa't walang kinakausap. tila ba'y nababaliw na. Pero di yan totoo. Di nila ako masisisi, mali bang ngumiti ako pag ikaw ang iniisip ko?

Hindi kita maangkin.
Hindi ko masabing ikaw ay akin.
Sapagkat wala namang atin.
Dahil hindi ka naman akin, OO HINDI.
Hindi ka saakin dahil wala nga namang tayo.
Tila salta't dayo ang turing mo sa akin sa tuwing tayo'y naguusap, pigil sa salita.
Kahit ganon, ako'y nadadala't nagagalak sa tuwing naguusap tayo.

Hindi ko na mapigilan. Gusto na kita. O baka
mas maganda sigurong sabihin na bakit nga ba kita ginusto? Ginusto sa sobrang ikling panahon.
Hindi ko alam kung bakit o kung paano. Basta't pag gising ko alam ko sa sarili kong gusto na kita....

Natatakot ako! OO takot na takot ako.
Takot akong masaksihang may iba ka ng gusto.
At hindi na ako.
Pero mas takot ako,
Mas natatakot akong sabihin mo ang mga katagang.
"WALA NAMANG TAYO, ANONG KARAPATAN MO"

Ano bang dapat kong gawin, para mahalin mo?
Anong dapat gawin, para mag karoon ng ikaw at ako na bubuo sa salitang tayo, sa mundo ko.

Bakit minahal mo ako? Yan ang tanong na alam kong itatanong mo sa akin, at alam kong wala akong maisasagot, dahil wala namang sagot kung bakit mahal kita, basta mahal kita.

Bakit ako? Bakit ganyan ka sa akin?
Ang mga salitang yan ang palaging sumasagi sa isipan mo sa tuwing magkausap tayong dalawa.

Bakit ikaw? Bakit ako ganto sayo?
Mukang alam mo naman siguro ang sagot sa mga tanong mo na yan. Ang kaisa isang salitang minumutawi ng aking mga labi...Mahal kita

Alam mo naman sa sarili mo na gusto kita
Alam mo naman sa sarili mo na wala nang iba
Alam mo naman sa sarili mo na ikaw lang talaga

Ika'y nangangamba na baka may makilala pa akong iba. Natatakot ka sa kadahilanang kilokilometro ang agwat nating dalawa.
MAHAL magbigay ka ng kahit konteng tiwala, pangako't hindi ka magsisisi.

Wag kang mag alala. Ako yung taong maihahalintulad mo sa sinaing sa rice cooker, ok lang kahit hindi mo bantayan..

Minsan hindi mo inaakala na magkakagusto ka sa isang tao ng ganon kadali o sa ganon kaigsing panahon, kaya siguro hindi mo matanggap na nagkagusto ka sa taong hindi mo pa gaanong nakakausap, nakikilala't nakita manlang. Yakapin ang katotohanan at walang hanggang saya ang idudulot sayo nito.

Ang namumuong pagtingin ay sobrang hirap pigilan. Pero sa palagay kuy di mapipigilan ang pilit na sumisigaw at naninibughong nararamdaman na nagtatago sa takot na dumadaloy sa bawat laman at kasukasuan ng iyong katawan.

Sana'y wag mo ng pigilan dahil lalo ka lamang mahihirapan, hayaan at wag pigiling umibig ang pusong nanghihingi ng tamis ng aking pag ibig. Ialis sa isip ang takot, at pabayaang puso ang mag desisyon. Baka sa paraang iyon ay lumaya at maging masaya ka sa araw araw na lilipas.

Hindi ko nga magawang makipagusap sa iba ibang babae o tumingin kase alam kong meron akong ikaw.

Meron nga ba akong ikaw? Ako'y umaasa.
Alam kong maluwag pa ang pagkakatali at hindi pa kita pagmamay ari. Kaya sanay hayaan mo akong mahalin ka, at mahalin ako pabalik.

Kilometro man ang layo natin sa isat isa. Pero hindi nito mapipigilan ang pagmamahal ko sayo. Ang ninanais ko lamang ay tanggapin mo at ilais ang pangambang bumabalot sa iyong isipan.

Masasabi kong sugal nga ang pag ibig. Dahil maaari kang matalo at masaktan. At sa kabilang dulo naman ay mananalo ka at walang hanggang saya.

Minsan sa buhay naten pumapasok ang takot at pumipigil sa mga bagay na maaari tayong mas maging masaya.

Ang takot ay kasinungalingan lamang na lumalason sa ating isipan, kaya siguro hindi natin nagagawa ang mga bagay na maaari tayong sumaya.

Hayaang ating puso ang magpasya. Nang sa gayoy mawala ang tinik sa lalamunan, at hayaang lumigaya at guminhawa ang nararamdaman

Ang takot ay panandalian lamang. Pero habang buhay na bumabasag sa ating kasiyahan. Sanay ialis ang takot, nang sa gayoy hindi ang pagsisisi ang manirahan sa iyong puso.
Sorry di pa po masyado revised
Silence Screamz Oct 2014
Get me out of this jar of pain.
Tightened lid.
Pickled inside with devastation and destruction.

Blending in with the brine.
Seasoned by torture and violence.
Time to turn up the heat.

Pressure cooked inside.
Temperature rising.
Steam valves are about to burst.

Rapid boil begins.
Screaming release is heard.
Moments are building up.

Angst has set in.
Can not take any more.
Head explodes.

Was it all in my brain?
Casualty of society.
Tripped on the switch.

Pulled the trigger.
No more of me.
Lay here eerily quiet, gone.
Another school shooting I just heard on the news now, in Washington state at a high school. So sad.
The youth



Youth is weird,
Somewhat interesting.
An adult pop rock mix
With child soda pop.

Youth is Coca-Cola,
Marlboro, whiskey and energy,
The eternal monologue of life,
ID number, property tax and Netflix.

Youth is John Lennon,
Che, Fidel and Hendrix,
Contemporary history,
ancient and medieval history.

Youth is pants ripped jeans,
Popsicle, lollipop, painted face,
Chicle, coffee and french fries,
Point G, miniskirt and condoms.

Youth is the Dalai Lama,
Techno, rave and rasta,
Drugs, drops and guitar,
Punk, samba and hopefully that-fall.

Youth is the opposite of the opposite,
It's a Friday at midnight,
Mustard, ketchup and mayonnaise,
X-salad, ham and cheese sandwich and X-men.

Youth is D-Day,
Vietnam, Hiroshima and Nagasaki,
Testosterone, Woodstock and Waterloo,
Afghanistan, TPM and MTV.

Youth is a pressure cooker,
Isis, Syria, sukiyaki,
Anonymous, Al Qaeda, rice and beans,
Genesis, Revelation and mint candy.

Youth is weird,
Somewhat interesting.
An adult pop rock mix
With child soda pop.
What is youth?
Karen Hamilton Oct 2016
As I walk the tightrope
On the edge of sanity
I silently scream
Making my pleas

Shall I topple either way
Lose my footing in a daze
Which side will I land?
If I land at all

Where'll I fall?
Fooling you
Fooling me
Inside my mind I make my plea

Please help me understand
Understand what I don't know
I make my way on tippy-toes
Whilst living life on a throe

Throw away, throw my mind
I need to leave my past behind
Behind me is another door
The door I think I'm striving for

I need to I turn, I need to go
For you, for me, for who, who knows?
Follow me, keep me safe
Trying not to contemplate

I'm scared, I'm lost, I've lost my mind
I'm wondering who is behind
Behind it all or is it fate?
Because of all the mess I've made
A turmoil of emotions spat out onto a page, this is at the very least an overdue release.

Syllable count is off key all over,  I may re-work in time or I may not but for now I'm just happy it's out.  © Karen L Hamilton
Amanda Sant'Anna Jun 2020
I never thought
That being stuck inside
A pressure cooker
Would look like this
Never thought
I'd still feel cold

  Help?
Donna Apr 2020
Thank you slow cooker
For cooking all the dinners
I think your awesome

👍😊👍
My slow cooker as been a godsend since isolation its been cooking all the family dinners , love it **
Take care be safe x
Qweyku  Aug 2014
LOST SOULS
Qweyku Aug 2014
This verse soundscape
is labelled dejected and angry.

Procrastinated
pockets
of
hope deferred
make the heart choke
in a vice-like
pressure cooker
tension filled
with
the cardiac solution called
LIFE

Think about it.


Tasting your own medicine
is
such a bitter pill to swallow.

They say
“Be the change that you want to see”
but
NO CHANGE
I see
on paths traveled
now
&  
before
me.

Does this mean
the change I want to see
is
‘no change’
a Spirit
personified
slowly
dying
yet
living
within you and me?


Think about it.


Tired of a dead lifes' heart attack?
then
SEE THROUGH
the change you want
to be.
On your journey
bitter pills do digest.
USING
the
MEMORY
of that
ill
taste
to heal
&
outlive
the sickness
prevalent in this
human
RACE
?



Think about it.


WHAT REALLY IS YOUR HURRY?

S L O W  D O W N.

Can't you can see ?
GRAVES'
great joy
is
to
blind & thieve
"your grace"
leaving you
with just enough energy
to
kick the bucket,
while robbing you of understanding
that these
sweet words
origin
from
YOU
to
ME
reflecting
what 20-20
would let you
really see...

You are Kings & Queens


Think about it.


We are all connected unilaterally.
Put plainly;
we agree to disagree,
in the midst of the fact that
there can be
no lasting freedom
until there is a weathered
wisdom
of
UNITY.

So(w),

If you see her
hold fast,
relinquish not,
D O N 'T   L E T  GO!
For
that's the point
when we truly become
LOST SOULS.


**© Qwey.ku
The essence of war is; there can be no lasting freedoms until there is a weathered unity, until then we continue to agree to disagree.

His Immutable Majesty

— The End —