"peepul" poems
Gooder and Badder
Bedder and fadder
What are Americans saying?
Boddle of wadder
Mudder and fodder
What is this game we are playing?
Funner and betterer,
Pitcher and ledder
They expect folks to unnerstan
Gimmes and wannabes
Mundees though Sundees
A hunnert and ten grand.
Gooder and Badder
Bedder and fadder
What are Americans saying?
Reedikullis and eeleegull
Furrin kinds of peepul
Should learn American English
Even when it’s ignernt,
And sounds a bit differnt,
A definite ***** to distinguish.
Boddle of wadder
Mudder and fodder
What is this game we are playing?
Inneresting innerlopers
Drunky ***** goat ropers
That’s what they think strangers are.
Our dippy high schoo dropouts
Don’t care what education’s about
And only care about today’s sports stars.
Gooder and Badder
Bedder and fadder
What are Americans saying?
Boddle of wadder
Mudder and fodder
What is this game we are playing?
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 6:50 PM UTC
Eye hav a higgoramous, shee tort me orl I knoe
Sheez a clevar Higgoramous az Higorrami goe
Shee tort me orl mi spelin and wen eye pik mi no’s
Ter wypit on der carpit knot rubbit on mi close
Sum peepul saye herz higgorrunt an saye dat shee iz fik
I ate dem orrid peepul dey reely mayk mee sik
I ope dat shee gitz pregerant an az a littel cubb
Eye’ll fead er lotz of kandie an uthar luvly grubb
Eye’ll elp er mummie baff er eye’ll chainge er durty nappie
Shee’ll bee soe qoot an cudelsum shee’l mayk mee viry appy
An wen der cubb gitz biggar shee’ll plae wiv mee an kis
An evariwun wil real eyes dat higgoramous’s iz bliss :-)
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 8:11 PM UTC
when this endless anchal of dhanekhali sari
continues to make dip-swimming
in the bottomless water of the paddy
and if into the colour of her fore-finger
enters repeatedly some whole-noons of the chot-boshekh
and from the more depth of the ceiling-fan
comes out the ordour of the open-hair of the village-orange
then with that lac-saliva wouldn’t an easy pandel
be constructed on the roof
its water will be made begin as well
that white cloud … that life of this concrete …
beforehand to it … with a garland of flowers of the sun-plant
around her neck… let her be seated on this branch of peepul branch… for once
taking the warmth of the kites flown after having a thread-cut
let the cows of man be productive by a few inch more
Sep 14, 2010
Sep 14, 2010 at 5:34 PM UTC
The boy now tugged the arms of his father and he said "pa
Girls
In class, a space bound
by four walls adorned
with exit door, entertaining
windows, gloomy blackboard,
numerous monotonic charts pasted
lively children lay on benches wasted.
In this stream of gloom and curiosity
little boys and girls fight, Rather
in decent words compete
I sit in that forbidden corner
and look through the eyes
of the girls whom I too
must confess I have fought before
The world through their eyes
has a very bright ambitious glare
the ambition to prove
everyone around them wrong
that they too are equally strong
and silently I smile as it reminds
me ..........
Father suddenly breaks the narration of the child
" Of the special one
My love, your ma"
and similar thoughts resonating through both their twinkling eyes and silent smiles caressing their lips they walk past the mimosa arches into the grassy carpet towards their favorite spot the gigantic peepul tree by the boulder.
The child comes out of the mystic trance excitement still raging on and the father still lingers on staring deep into the sky and murmured to himself
"The day I saw you
was nothing special it
seemed then
Clad in a deep orange salwar
with fluttering over expressive eyes
with elegant steps you glided around
Our eyes met for an instant
and cocky rather timid
me looked away
that brief encounter
was all it was it seemed
but there lay another
coincidence written
in the books of destiny."
Unable to get his fathers attention the boy pulls his father's arms vigorously and in desperation
"PAA where are you ? anybody in there? knock knock "
Pulled out from the memory lanes he looks into the child and a hearty laugh blasts out of his lungs and without any reason the innocence of the child too drags him and both blast into uncontrollable bouts of laughter in harmony.
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 3:59 PM UTC
I open my window
All glass and glory,carved at the corners
Painted on it,my favorite lilies
Once i am done marvelling, i look beyond that
I see your Mahogany window, closed and curtailed
No life thrives beyond it, just some echos remain
Last year,a rural house was locked in this urban city
But alongside this house,a souvenir remains
A dark,dense,impenetrable peepul tree
It looks down, looks up
and looks three sixty degree
When fails to find his neighbor, we two together feel lonely.
Still , i see you scampering down the stairs and hiding in alley
Ignoring your mom's yelling, not bothering what consequence could be
waiting for me to come and rush to kiss me
holding me close and breathing inside me
Years of adolescence were drenched in rain
Not a moment without thoughts of each other, as naturally as in body a heart remains.
I was about to be eighteen , when you sneaked into my room
You brought with you candles, cake and one woeful news
My birthday wishes mocked at me as you were telling your story
You said " Baby! listen to me, it's time to move on,
there's life ahead of me waiting and i have ladders to climb
My ambitions won't let me sleep and as for you, we've had pretty good time."
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 2:30 PM UTC