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Tulip Chowdhury Nov 2013
Today's poem is letting friends know
I've taken a new vow
In a book called, "Red, Blue, Purple"
Available on Amazon
With words of heart
Wanting to touch other hearts
If they open the doors
And let me in.

Note: My publication is really on Amazon.com: Red, Blue, Purple by Tulip Chowdhury
Tulip Chowdhury Mar 2013
Contributed by Tulip Chowdhury

                                              See My Inner Being

See my inner being;
The soul that roams around
The heart that shares your life
All the tears and the smiles,
The doors are open
You can come and explore
And definitely you’ll find
A Me, that is full of empathy
Full of light to show you ways,
Willing to love
And reach out both hands,
When you are in doubts
To be there
Pointing out the right ways.

The outside self;
Is up to you to judge
But I would request
See my inside.
And then you decide
If you really want
To accept me
For what I am
And walk along
Stride by stride
Holding my hands
While two hearts
Beat as one!

Will you do that, just for once
And see my heart, for what I am?
Jude kyrie Oct 2016
1951
Manchester in
The North West Of England

The city was broken after the war.
England had won it was said
But it didn't feel like that we won.
I remember the
old smoke stained bricks
of the inner city school.
I remember it in sepia
It had no colors back then.
Nothing did.

Until she came to teach us.
She was beautiful her silks
flowed from her like clouds.
So many colors reds
and magentas and pink and blues

I looked at her and
I wanted to be with her
She was the brightest thing I had seen
since the war had ended.

She said she was from India.
And her dress was a sari.
She had my heart with the
gentle softness of her voice.
Her windchime bracelets
on her lovely honeyed skin tinkled.
But it was her tranquility
that floored me.

She would ask
what have you learned today?
share it with us.
We spoke in a cacophony.
Hush now children she whispered.
listen and learn from each other.
You will all get a turn.

Then when we were troubled
she would drop an important meeting
with adult teachers.
I have an urgent need to speak
with one of my students
She said.

I remember once
i said to her Mrs. Chowdhury.
Why should we work so hard?
there are no jobs anymore.

She said softly but firmly
I know you all each and every one of you.
Her sari swished even louder
I knew I had said the wrong thing.

There is a teacher,
a doctor,
a nurse,
a poet,
a craftsman,
a soccer player,
just in this clas,
i can see it,
I Know this.

Then she opened
the old classroom  window.
and the cool spring air
filtered into the chalky room.
The lilac perfumes drifted  into the room.
What is that fragrance class?
It is Lilacs,
Mrs. Chowdhury,
we sang in unison.
Yes, it is lilacs children.
Last year they all died
with the winter storms.
But now they are back
as sweet as ever.

The jobs died with the war.
But they will be back.
You must all learn as much
as you can to take them.
children.
She never lost a single chance
to teach us something.

I get back to the UK
every now and then .
I am a doctor.
perhaps the one she saw
in her class so long ago.

I call in to see her
in her tiny retirement flat
in Manchester.

She pours me a cup of green tea.
Into a delicate china cup.
It is grown in the foothills
of the Himalayas
she whispers
it is picked young.
so fresh so nourishing.
Never losing her chance
to teach me something new.
Now tell me
what new things
have you learned in America .?
To the teachers of the Young
Thank You
Jude
Jude kyrie Jul 2018
Mrs Chowdury
1951
Manchester in
The North West Of England

The city was broken after the war.
England had won it was said
But it didn't feel like we won anything.
I remember the
old smoke stained bricks
of the inner city school.
I remember it in sepia
It had no bright colors back then.
Nothing did.

That is, until Mrs Chowdury came to teach us.
She was as beautiful as her silks
That flowed from her like clouds.
So many colors,reds
and magentas and pink and blues

I looked at her and
I wanted to be with her
She was the brightest thing
I had ever seen
since the war had ended.

She said she was from India.
And her dress was a sari.
She took my heart with the
gentle softness of her voice.
Her windchime bracelets
on her lovely honeyed skin tinkled.
But it was her tranquility
that floored me.

She would ask
what have you learned today children?
share it with us.
We spoke in a cacophony.
Hush now children she whispered.
listen and learn from each other.
You will all get a turn.

Then when we were troubled
she would drop an important meeting
with adult teachers.
I have an urgent need to speak
with one of my students
She would say.

I remember once
i said to her, Mrs. Chowdhury.
Why should we work so hard?
there are no jobs anymore.

She said softly but firmly
I know you all each
and every one of you.
Her sari swished even louder
I knew I had said the wrong thing.

There is a teacher,
a doctor,
a nurse,
a poet,
a craftsman,
a soccer player,
just in this class,
i can see it,
I Know this.

Then she opened
the old classroom window.
and the cool spring air
filtered into the chalky room.
The lilac perfumes drifted into the room.
From the ancient lilac tree outside.
What is that fragrance class?
It is Lilacs,
Mrs. Chowdhury,
we sang in unison.

Yes, it is lilacs children.
Last year they all died
with the winter storms.
But now they are back
as sweet as ever.

The jobs died with the war.
But they will be back.
You must all learn as much
as you can to take them.
children.
She never lost a single chance
to teach us something.

I get back to the UK
every now and then.
I am a doctor.
perhaps the one she saw
in her class so long ago.

I call in to see her
in her tiny retirement flat
in Manchester.

She pours me a cup of green tea.
Into a delicate china cup.
It is grown in the foothills
of the Himalayas
she whispers
it is picked young.
so fresh so nourishing.
Never losing her chance
to teach me something new.

Now tell me
what new things
have you learned in America.?
The ingrained love of learning
Still shining brightly
in her beautiful eyes.
To all who teach our young
Thank You
Jude
Tulip Chowdhury Apr 2013
By : Tulip Chowdhury

                                                Spring, Where? When?


This year’s spring is in confusion;
trees with buds just opening
trees with bare branches still waiting
while some have green boughs hanging
dogwoods too,
some in full bloom
and some already withering!

Birds are wandering
fluttering around the baffled trees
which one will hold their nests
and hide them with leaves?
Birdies are impatient
mating season is here
and yet where to lay the eggs?

Migrating geese quack louder
is warm and lively spring here?
Just when they plan to fly
another cold spell comes in
and  they cancel the flights
of their annual migration
but it has to be
this migration to warmer lands
they wander quacking chaotically
when is spring really coming?

Weather is suddenly haphazard
man and nature
both bewildered
take extra caution realizing
its man that labeled spring
as queen of seasons
but God has other plans
changing whether with global warming
showing man that rules in science
holds unknown exceptions!


Despite weather predictions
flowers, butterflies and spring breeze
refuse to show faces
the Creator holds them back
their arrival or disappearance
will take place as destined
according to His own plans!

Need we add a new name
to our list of seasons?
Or add with their descriptions
“Seasons come on their own whims?”
Hey, is no one following me? I would welcome feed backs!
Tulip Chowdhury Apr 2013
Contributed by: Tulip Chowdhury

                               Against the Wind

This pause
between life and death;
we call it Life,
is always a climb uphill.

With a sweating body
tired limbs , beating heart
panting and raving
the mind expecting
thousand things
we climb,
while the wind
touches the body
as if driving it back
to give a message
to whisper a secret
its force trying to hold back
to tell us to hope for less
to be ready to find the top
as bare as the meadow beneath!

Then you just know
the path up the hill
is always a fight against the wind!

Yet the hill top seems to call
to a daunting climb
to see what lies
on its other side
curiosity blends with Life
and you climb on
have to reach the top
the hill not a challenge
to your thirst for knowing!
Tulip Chowdhury Mar 2013
Contributed by Tulip Chowdhury

                                              See My Inner Being

See my inner being;
The soul that roams around
The heart that shares your life
All the tears and the smiles,
The doors are open
You can come and explore
And definitely you’ll find
A Me, that is full of empathy
Full of light to show you ways,
Willing to love
And reach out both hands,
When you are in doubts
To be there
Pointing out the right ways.

The outside self;
Is up to you to judge
But I would request
See my inside.
And then you decide
If you really want
To accept me
For what I am
And walk along
Stride by stride
Holding my hands
While two hearts
Beat as one!

Will you do that, just for once
And see my heart, for what I am?

— The End —