What's your mantra for happiness?
You are always cheerful, elated
How's it possible?
Dejected, debilitated, the cuckoo asked.
The wind was howling through the trees.
The angling saunter whistled and mumble,
"Shut out noise first,
Listen what you want,
Wear blinkers and earplugs, if possible,
Then keep the eyes high.
Learn to manage the mind,
Concerned only about oneself
Be single-minded in thy pursuit,
Switching off toxicity, learn the art.
Distress, afflictions?
Break out the cause.
A big no to irrelevant chatter
The things that detract contentment,
Unbundle them.
Needless activities on the way?
Don't waste the energy
Be in self-preservation mode
Nothing is more important than the self.
Don't take anxiety as a companion,
Uncertainty, acceptance of the unknown are,
Try not to control the uncontrollable.
The fact is,
I am only equal to myself,
And to go far far away,
Still not expecting a smooth path,
To explore the unknown destinations."
The joyous Zephyr puffed away.
Inhaled those warm fuzzies
The cuckoo appeased
H E R S E L F…
Poem by K. Syamala
However hard we try
Actions couldn't be reversed
A ghost keeper of this building,
Once built by sweat and blood.
Here, silence was louder than noise,
Reality was too big to absorb,
The choices of life were wrong,
Trying effortlessly to prove the worth.
,
The unforgettable moments,
Were embedded in tears
Once, the eyes were thy sky,
Heard the world through the lullaby,
Spoken through the lips,
Hugs and kisses were the strength.
Now, ravaged by age,
Surrounded by loneliness,
Eyes and ears miss something,
Rhythm of life lost its tune.
Choked with memoirs,
A helping hand is needed,
All appears like strangers
Met in the nearby street.
Poem by K. Syamala
Humiliated and heartbroken
Shadows frayed in the water,
The river is flowing slowly, steadily
Few drops of tears, the molten,
Scorched the mother river.
"Being a girl child, am I responsible?
A loser, a blackie, no one loves me.
A struggling mom, deep in sorrow,
Unwanted, shunned, tossed aside
No house, no family,
That's what I have."
Immature are your imagination
There are no complete family
They are all pretended.
Be grateful to whatever comes
Whether the dark thought, shame or the malice
Meet them at the door.
Transform the dark into something splendid,
From beyond each acts as a guide.
Confront her and comfort her,
You two are enough to make a family.
Never look back and regret,
Raise your hands when the shares are due.
Make all your dreams come true.
Live a life to express, not to impress.
Colour, tribe, or gender no matter,
Past cannot be changed,
But future can
Show what to take to win the prize
Make a wish with the eyelash
Sounds silly?
Future is promising,
Mark it with indelible sparkle.
To arrest sunlight ,
The earth draws blanket over.
Through tiny pores
The little stars still peep in
Offering a starlit moonlit sky.
The gentle ripples touched her feet and whispered,
Eyes should always fill with dreams,
Not with tears anymore.
She saw a new sunrise,
The bright light deepens her smile,
Slowly, steadily...
Poem by K. Syamala
A piece of sky is visible
Window panes are half open
A firefly peeped through the pores
Sky is clear, clouds are white cotton candy.
Night gives solace
It oils wounded soul
Don'ts are alien to darkness
Sunlight brings restrictions
Thunder, lightening, storms
Even venomous beings are friends
But dragon like sapiens are
Watchful are the eyes without face.
They drew lines
How to laugh, what to wear,
When to step out, to dance, to swim, to love.
You are a child bearing chattel
Cooking, serving, cleaning... permitted
Should earn, no to spent
The firefly began laughing
Is this the life you dreamt?
Who had cutoff your wings?
The sky is up above
Calling you to fly
How? With broken wings?
How? With fear and insecurity?
Standing in the crossroads of violence?
The firefly winks,
All are equal
Birth and death are same
In between why chaos?
Instead of perennial inferno of hatred
Show sagacity
Law alone is not enough
No one is a master or a slave
Nurture compassion, love empathy
Embrace peace and harmony
Until everyone mutates
Freedom is a myth...
Poem by K. Syamala
Art of How To 