Monday, November 21, 2011

The idea of a tree

The roots that kiss the earth
The branches that salute the sky
The leaves that dance with the wind

The nest of a little bird
The playground of a furry squirrel
The breeze playing hide and seek

Give me just one wish please
Make me a flower or even a bee
For I love the idea of a tree


Saturday, November 19, 2011

Kharey panee ko

"Make a Wish" by Neha

Samundar ke kharey panee ko meetha kardey
Ya phir meree aankhon ko pathar kardey

- As remembered

ae khuda ret ke sehra ko samandar kar de
ya chhalakti aankhon ko bhi patthar kar de

tujhko dekha naheen mehsoos kiya hai maine
aa kisi din mere ehsaas ka paikar kar de

aur kuch bhi mujhe darkaar nahin hai lekin
meri chaadar mere pairon ke baraabar kar de

- As sung by Jagjit Singh

Key to urdu words: ret ke sehra = sand castles,paikar = real/concrete ,darkaar = lack, chaadar=sheet of cloth

Tujh lab ki sifat

"Spread" by Neha

Tujh lab ki sifat laal-e-badaksha soo kahoonga
Jaadu hai tere nain, ghazala soo kahoonga

Jalta hu shabon roz tere gham me ey saajan
Yaha soz tera misal-e-soja soo kahoonga

Mujh par na karo zulm tum ey lailiye khuba
Majnoon hu tere gham ko bayamban soo kahoonga

Dekha hu tujhe khwaab mein ey maya-e-khubi
Is khwaab ko ja yusuf-e-tanha soo kahoonga

Di baadshahi haq mein tujhe husn nagar ki
Ja kishwar-e-imaan-e-suleman soo kahoonga

Yak nukta tere safaye rukh par nahi beja
Is mukh ko tere safa-e-Quran soo kahoonga

- Written by Wali Dakkani, Sung by Abida Parveen

Key to urdu words: Sifat - quality, like/similar to ; lab = lips; laal = ruby; gazaalaaan = deer;so= compare to, badakhshaan= place in Afghanistan famous for its rubies

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Better than the Worst

"Who is this guy?" by Neha

"You are better than the worst thing you've ever done"
- Dhamma Brothers

You are the child who smiled for the very first time
You are the young boy who learnt to ride a bike
You are the teenager who first fell in love
You are the young man who was lost in her big brown eyes
You are the new born father who held her tiny fingers
You are the grown up son who told his mother she will be just fine
You are the old man who forgave those who crushed his garden

You are better than the worst thing you've ever done
Because that thing is only a part of you, not the whole of you
Because you are a human being, in many shades of grey
Because you are the same child, who smiled for the very first time


Dedicated to every person serving in every prison of the world - both inside and outside.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Smoke from a Winter Chimney

"Smoke" by stuant63

Like smoke from a winter chimney
You emerge from the heart of fire
only to vanish in the deep blue night sky

And when you are gone
Like smoke from a winter chimney
a warmth remains, followed by ashes


Hand in Sand

"Hands in the Sand" by dasnake

Hand in sand
Round and round

Waves make a gentle sound
Put this breeze as a crown

You were lost but now are found
Hand in hand in this sand


Saturday, November 12, 2011

Living Things

"Chains" by Neha

Our poems
Are like the wart-hogs
In the zoo
It's hard to say
Why there should be such creatures

But once our life gets into them
As sometimes happens
Our poems
Turn into living things
And there's no arguing
With living things
They are
The way they are

Our poems
May be rough
Or delicate
Or great

But always
They have inside them
A confluence of cries
And secret languages

And always
They are improvident
And free
They keep
A kind of Sabbath

They play
On sooty fire escapes
And window ledges

They wander in and out
Of jails and gardens
They sparkle
In the deep mines
They sing
In breaking waves
And rock like wooden cradles.

-Anne Porter

A noon as a noun

"e-motion" by Neha

He spent a noon living like a noun
A noun living it up like a verb

For people who became a noun
Were immersed in verbs all their lives



"Circular" by Neha

He offered me a leaf like a hand with fingers.
I offered him a hand like a leaf with teeth.
He offered me a branch like an arm.
I offered him my arm like a branch.
He tipped his trunk towards me like a shoulder.
I tipped my shoulder to him like a knotted trunk.
I could hear his sap quicken, beating like blood.
He could hear my blood slacken like rising sap.
I passed through him.
He passed through me.
I remained a solitary tree.
He a solitary man.

- Nichita Stãnescu

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Little Red Kaleidoscope

lucyfruit by antpix

She looks inside her little red kaleidoscope
Like she has done a thousand times

This moving circus of colors
She has seen a thousand times

But only now, like a lightening, she realizes
What makes a kaleidoscope beautiful

Its inner self brought together by mirrors
But mirrors are not beautiful by themselves

Its the dance of their reflections
and tiny glass pebbles of all size and shapes

She thinks of people as her little red kaleidoscope
Waiting for the right mirror to make them shine

She wants to go and tell them all
They are the mirrors and the glass pebbles


Wednesday, November 09, 2011


There are two kinds of truth: the truth that lights the way and the truth that warms the heart. The first of these is science, and the second is art. Neither is independent of the other or more important than the other. Without art science would be as useless as a pair of high forceps in the hands of a plumber. Without science art would become a crude mess of folklore and emotional quackery. The truth of art keeps science from becoming inhuman, and the truth of science keeps art from becoming ridiculous.

-Raymond Thornton Chandler, writer (1888-1959)

Picture of Gratitude

"Ode" by Neha

Folded hands, handpicked flowers and a bow
Wish upon a shooting star
Sometimes a smile
Sometimes a thank you
Picture of gratitude


Tuesday, November 08, 2011

Beauty Remains

"Lifted" by Neha

Some days her heart would fill up
like the water in the crevice of an
old rock on a stormy day

She would hear the news,
see a stranger's face,
feel the uneven edges,
taste the loss not her own,
breathe the air waves.

War. Occupation. Corruption
Allegation. Retaliation.
Economic depression.
Human regression.

What is happening ? Why doesn't someone stop it?
Her heart fills up till it can fill no more
It is a mad mad world and one would have to
be mad to not go mad, she thinks.

She holds a tiny drop from her
eyes on the tip of her index finger
The colors of rainbow shine on the drop
which emerged from the bottom of her heart
And she knows that beauty remains.


Monday, November 07, 2011

Copper Giraffe

"G" by Neha

Tall, spotty and handsome
Head in the clouds
Feet on the ground
He does work, he has fun
He can talk, he can laugh
Meet the copper giraffe


Who am I?

"Spring" by Neha

What is to be done ? for I do not recognize myself,
I am neither Christian nor Jew, nor Gabr nor Muslim,
I am not of the east, nor of the west, nor of the land, nor of the sea.
I am not of nature’s mint, nor of the circling heavens.
I am not of earth, nor of water, nor of air, nor of fire;
I am not of the empyrean, nor of the dust, nor of existence, nor of entity,
I am not of India, nor of China, nor of Bulgaria, nor of Saqsin;
I am not of the kingdom of Iraqain, nor of the country of Khorasan,
I am not of this world, nor of the next, nor of Paradise, nor of Hell.
I am not of Adam, nor of Eve, nor of Eden and Rizwan.
My place is the placeless, my trace is the traceless,
’Tis neither body nor soul, for I belong to the soul of the Beloved,
I have put quality away, I have seen that the two worlds are one;
One I seek, One I know, One I see, One I call,
He is the first, he is the last, he is the outward, he is the inward;
I know none other except ‘Ya Hu’ and ‘Ya man Hu’.

If there be any lover in the world, —’tis I.
If there be any believer, infidel, or hermit,— ’tis I.
The wine-dregs, the cup-bearer, the minstrel, the harp, and the music,
The beloved, the candle, the drink and the joy of the drunken,—’tis I.
The two-and-seventy creeds and sects in the world
Do not really exist: I swear by God that every creed and sect—’tis I.
Earth and air and water and fire, knowest thou what they are?
Earth and air and water and fire, nay, body and soul too—’tis I.
Truth and Falsehood, good and evil, ease and difficulty from first to last,
Knowledge and learning and asceticism and piety and faith—’tis I.
The fire of Hell, be assured, with its flaming limbs,
Yes, and Paradise and Eden and the Houris—’tis I.
This earth and heaven with all that they hold,
Angels, Peris, Genies and Mankind—’tis I.


Sunday, November 06, 2011

Time Change

Unfolds by origamidon

Did we loose time
Or did we just gain time
His head is spinning

He checks wall clock,wrist watch,
guest room clock, kitchen watch,
World clock in phone watch
Not sure about time, but he is lost


Friday, November 04, 2011

Lonely Sock

Sock is lonely
It should have been sockS
but his soulmate got separated in the washer
Now the sock is lonely. It really socks.
Can someone please invent a sock pair up machine
to match them up within the washer?