A Game Of Chess

A Game Of Chess

Two old men set up the checked field,
a great battle is to ensue,
each side choices colour and victory, never to yield,
but strange, the soldiers are but few.

Fighters placed in a square alone,
all ever ready to save their king,
faceless in black and white, and set in stone,
the glories of these armies do I sing.

The King, paralysed, can move but a pace,
honest rooks, crooked bishops, the strong queen, never jest,
yet in cunning the knight none can race,
that said, the hardy pawns bring up the rest.

The White army makes the first attack,
the black ever defiant, reply,
the two generals, their wits demurely intact,
to trap the other king, do they try.

On and on the battle rages,
but the white general errs, panics, scrambles at large,
alert throughout all stages,
the sharp black knights, charge!!

The white vanuguards, citadel, shatter
but are unimportant now,
for the knights jump over former and latter,
as sweat drips from the white marshall's prow.

The poor white King, beleagured, trapped,
his defenses tricked, as his masters head wrings,
even in danger he can't move, options sapped,
its called checkmate friend, and the black side wins.

For My Sisters Dear

For My Sisters Dear

As I gaze out in the sky so blue,
with a slash of orange, of pink a hue,
I'm sad to say this present is long overdue,
for my sisters, my precious few.

As I hasten on my machine to write,
thinking fast in the evening light,
upon myself I'm filled with spite,
as I hope this is adequate, hopefully quite.

My heartless critic writers,
my opponents, punishers, fighters,
yet bosom close ye far and short sighters,
to have you I'm a lucky blighter.

Your eyes filled with rage,joy, or with many a tear,
your word can be a petal, or a sharp spear,
yet this one thing I fear,
I couldn't love you more, my sisters dear.

Something To Cling On To

Something To Cling On To

Time drags by, seconds seem hours,
and your heart beats utterly slow,
your breathings fine, but memory chars,
as spontaneous times seem so long ago.

When you struggle to find that vibe,
that electric spark with you,
know this my friend (and this is no jibe)
that you need something to cling on to.

Now to me this question you might bring,
What is this wonderful thing?
That fills our hearts with desire?
Sets our minds on fire?

My answer, ever unchanging, remains,
through fire, dirt, and monsoon rains,
through every realm of time and space,
a PASSION, to set your soul ablaze.

A passion, a spark, an idea,
an immersion, a desire, a skill,
It is whatever you may name,
but sets your heart afill,
with a calming breath, a new flame.

Use it, nurture it, feel it,
it will fill you anew with life,
care for it, know it, think of it,
and gone are your vexation, emptiness and strife.

There is always, always, that thing for you,
that something to cling on to,
in boredom and in fear,
that something ever so dear.

Patriot

Patriot

A heart of gold, eyes bold,
with blood as hot as fire, or as calm as ice,
the patriot ever stands tall,
to make every sacrifice.

A sacrifice for the nation's flag,
ever proud and high,
a sacrifice, for the nation's folk
without uttering a single sigh.


A sacrifice for the green dales,
with their rushing rivers,
a sacrifice for the glassy vales,
their peaks filled with glimmer.


A heart of gold, eyes bold,
they come in every shape and size,
only in their nation's name do they fall,
after giving the ultimate sacrifice.


Man or woman, boy or girl,
be they short or tall, dark or fair,
bravely does their tale unfurl,
to keep free the nation's air.


Maybe they are kind healers,
their hearts filled with pity,
or clever, shrewd architects,
to a build a noble city.


Or the brave soldier on the battle field,
some strong, some hurt, and some not but confused,
but never do their hearts and weapons yield,
those hearts, filled with patriotic hues.


A heart of gold, eyes bold,
never do they seek a prize,
their nation's wound is their own,
until their very demise.


My heart belong to these great people,
and I hope to become one too,
but I fear I lack the needed qualities,
now tell me, what am I to do?


Let their bodies be set ablaze,
or their house burnt down to splinters,
in all times would they be unfazed
as they guide their loved nation through the winters


They don't know (but really hope),
that spring shall return, with birds
and flowers fine,
for they are pariots, and in the eyes of all,
forever do they shine.

The Wearied Wanderer

The Wearied Wanderer

I, the wearied wanderer, wish for nothing but rest,
But when I have to move, I'm compelled to do my best
When at last I stop, danger is around
And I cannot stop and rest, rest safe and sound.

How I wish for a haven
But it never seems to come by,
and I am stuck in the dreaded lands,
where I am a slave and can do naught but comply.

Wearied do I travel, I travel here and there,
longing, longing, for a good friend in despair
and many such friends I found, but at times out of reach
and thus many a time the dread struck,
and all my defenses were breached

Wearied do I travel, in many a wonderful land
of beauty beyond compare,
but there is still that dread,
and is at times more than I can bear.

But I cannot lose heart,
When it is time to part
From my friends in lands so fair
For my life is in hands of others,
And I cannot give up in despair.

A Token Of Love To All Mothers

A TOKEN OF LOVE FROM YOUR CHILDREN

I am an experienced traveler,
quite a lot have I already seen...
and now that I look back at what I saw,
I see how wonderful and unique my life thus far has been.

I have beheld tall, mighty mountains,
and many a tropical forest have I seen,
I have swam in huge oceans,
and have experienced many an eye pleasing scene.

To count my various experiences is impossible,
but I can tell you this...
some sights made me so happy , you couldn't afford to miss
and yet some filled me with dread,
and these too are emblazed in my head.

All of this has gone past ,
and though there have been moments of sadness,
I feel that happy times are here to last.

And how can they not come now,
for I am in a ship, with you at the prow,
so for all the waves that may come by,
I know hard shall we try,
to overcome them with dignity and grace,
and its quite a thing to know,
that I'll always have your smiling face,
to comfort me when things are out of place.

You are the best, mom,
and not only on this day, but on all days,
let me tell you how much I love you,
can't be expressed with letters starting from A-Z.

And all those you've done for me,
are clear for all to see,
and all that you've done for me I can't express,
for you've stayed by my side in both delight and distress.

Mother for me this and every other day is a,

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!!!!

Posted on Saturday, May 15, 2004 at 08:08AM

Paper, Pen And Ink... And Boredom

The room was dusty and bare,
leaving me to ponder
upon something beyond
every limitation imposed,

I wanted to break free,
and jump into the sea of creativity,
brave, strong and filled with might,
but I was left pondering upon what to write .

FAILURE

I set out again,
to write something that'd fill me with joy
I wanted to guide my reader on an adventure
but I failed as a guide
and I was left with a heavy heart, and a
heavy stride.

And all my will to write,
was all but destroyed

But on and on I had to go,
for that little fighting spirit inside me told me to do so,

I had to plough through everything in my way,
but the challenge was too hard I have to say...
And this time my will to write,
was really destroyed.

I had set out to write something,
that'd give me something about which to think,
but all I achieved,
was a blank paper and a pen full of ink.

Posted on Tuesday, May 18, 2004 at 05:36AM

The Rhythm Of Life

The Rhythm Of Life

Life, with its many ups and downs,
Takes me (and you) on a journey,
To many a different town;

At times one of happiness
Where people laugh and share,
But at times to a town of sadness
Where miseries and fears are exposed, all raw and bare.

You can't help it, you'll just be dragged along,
The rhythm of life will place you, wherever you belong,

It's the Rhythm of Life
I say to myself, and it never ceases to astound me,
Sometimes with happiness, and at times with strife,
Does the rhythm of life surround me.

You can't help it, you'll just be dragged along,
The Rhythm of life will place you,
Wherever you belong.

The Rhythm of Life will take you,
To the place of your utmost desire,
But at times to the place you fear,
Where all is danger and fire.

You just can't help it, for you'll just be dragged along,
The rhythm of life will place you, wherever you belong.

You have to ride the rhythm,
To be a success,
Not go against the rhythm,
For it has much power in excess,

Make the best of whatever comes by,
And if you don't, you'll be left alone, simply forlon (ha ha)
You just can't help it, for you'll just be dragged along,
The rhythm of life will place you, wherever you belong.

Be the Rhythm's friend,
And it will be yours in return,
It will teach you good lessons
Lessons really valuable to learn

AND IF YOU TRY TO STOP IT...

Well, you can't for you'll just be dragged along
The Rhythm of Life will place you, wherever you belong.

So my friends, I have told you all that I had pent up,
In the nooks and crannies of my heart,
Please do remember it,
For you shall need every part

And one last thing, remember,
You can't help it, for you'll just be dragged along,
The rhythm of life will place you,
Wherever you belong.

Posted on Wednesday, November 24, 2004 at 03:00PM