"bhumi" poems
Ek metro, saanp si guzar rahi hai kuch duur
Ek nabh faila hai uske upar - Neela sa kaala
Ek chaand chamak raha hai uss nabh mein
Kuch baadal sarak rahe hain paas mein uske
Usi metro ki tarah par dheere zara
Thandi hawayei hain.
Usme goonjta mera aaj khada
Kuch thandak hai inn hawaon mein
Aur bohot sara sukoon bhara
Aisi hi hoti hai wo chaand ki thandak?
Jinhen sunte, apna bachpan beet gaya
Kya sheetalta swarg ki aisi hai kahin?
Jisey suna kayion ka jeevan guzar gaya
Kya raambaan sukh yahi toh nahi
Kya kamdhenu vriksha aisa tha kabhi
Kya Ramcharitmanas mein hanumat
Ka Rambhakti amrit lagta tha yun hi?
Aisa hi amritmay bachpan mein,
yaad hai mujhko lagta tha
Zameen se shuru uss lambi khidki
Se yahi chaand chamakta dikhta tha
Mama sa ban chup shant bhav se
Kuch baatein meri sunta tha
Kyunki khud bhumi par bistar pe so
Holi mujhe khilayi thi
Khud bhookhe reh uss ke paiso
Se mere bhai ko idli chakhayi thi
Bohot pasand thi usko uski idli
Aur rangbhari mujhe holi meri
Kya kabhi unhen main unka wapas
Ye rinn chukta kar paungi
Kya kabhi unnsi balwaan main ban kar
Unke liye itna kar paungi?
Kya usi chaand ki thandak si khushiyan
Unki jholi mein bhar paungi?
Kya bhool maaf karne ki hadd
Ko paar kar kar ke thake nahi wo?
Kya raat bhar bhi jagkar subah
Hans dawa banna bhoole nahi wo
Kya insaani roop mein hain
Bhagwan, "maa baap" kehlate jo?
Nov 29, 2019
Nov 29, 2019 at 10:16 AM UTC
HelloPoetry Blessed us all , no matter where we live.
I am truly Blessed by each and everyone alike here.
There are so many here on this here site that I am thankful for.
Sally Bayan, Mike Hauser, Iamdaisie, Olivia Kent, Wendy Ronshausen,Brandon Nagley, Earl Jane, Rachel Sia Jane Lloyd, Lydia Monet,Neil Aranda, Mark Cleavenger, Ann Marie Johnson, Melanie Wilson-Herring, Mike Essig, **** Paz Its Gonna Make Sense.
PrttyBrd, Vicki Bashor, Kripi Mehra, Willyam Pax, Poetess Bhumi, Kelly Rose.
Elizabeth Burnettge, Toni Pugh, Paul Champman, David Lewis Paget.
Ryn, Sean Scibbles, Aurelia, Kim Johanna Baker,Yasaman Johari.
Lady RF,Crazy Diamond Kristy, Weeping Willow, Alyssa Underwood.
MydstopiA,adhi das, South by southwest, Petal, soulsurvivor.
reformdancerecover,Ashly Kocher, Mack, Travler, Randolph Wilson.
Plus many more whom are very special indeed whom did not make this poem love you all in Christ.
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 2:03 PM UTC
O rain,
That falls
On the green
That I love most
Let me kiss
Your tender chest
Nobody to come, or go
Alone, alone, alone,
Have to bear the heat and odors of earth
Was the world built by someone?
In it, the marks of a kiss
By me or you
Is graffiti
In Ethihad’s cabin
Your name is Mariyamma,
Mine is..
The sound of someone singing on earth
Mother might be crying
You might be singing
Or else I might be muttering about myself
There is only one place to say
Peace, peace
Your mother’s ******
Only one way to come out
To go inside, at least a thousand ways, but
All blocked
With what Ammu, Ammini and you have earned
Not as beasts,
Not as humans,
It was not father
Or mother
Who gave birth
To us as us
Someone else..
Will name a dream after you
Will name another one after you
If you miss at one, you will get it right at three
I will give my name to the third dream
A mouthful of grain is a word
There is a mouth
There is rice
When these two combine
You
Like myself,
So unbearable,
Love.
Children,
Was it the food you ate
Or the tall and hefty myself
You or me
You or me
Please take with you
The care and protection
Of this SMS
In the morning
When
Anxieties leave
As I fight like a butcher,
No,
No,
Preethi, from Maha Iranikkulam
Calls me to take a bath in the temple pond
Was it you
Or me
Or our children?
Amma,
Amma,
Amma,
Amen.
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 6:42 AM UTC
High above the Holy River Ganges
where the water flows like Brahman itself,
is an ancient cave, a place of sacred pilgrimage.
Entering silently, our small gathering
sat together, meditating here where the great
sage himself transcended in deep samadhi.
Wrapped in warm shawls, dhotis and saris,
eyes closed gently in the stony half-light.
Early hours had seen us awake, readying
for this auspicious day, and the sleepiness
of a little child began to overtake me.
With that same innocence, a childlike feeling,
I curled down into a woolen bundle, asleep
in the inner depths of that holy, dark place.
Sleep was sleep, and not sleep,
as awareness shone within me.
Limitless akasha unfolded inside me now,
and the ground where I rested expanded
into that same unbounded, cosmic space.
From far beneath the cool, damp earth,
a radiance travelled into my small frame.
Renewing energy suffused and blessed me.
Bowing in my heart, I touch the lotus feet
of Maharishi Vashistha. His darshan
shines on into our present day, and
throughout all of Ved Bhumi Bharat.
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 12:16 PM UTC