You are still an angel

You are still an angel

Oh, what a fun in cheating

None escapes this trait

Or do you claim a moral high ground?

If you do, I bet, I have found an angel. 

Cheating a trait hated

But most loved

It’s there in one's genes.

The thrill in hiding from the rest excites

Cheating you have done it 

As a kid with your hand in the cookie jar 

As a teenager you hid your puppy love

Was it cheating, one was never sure

In your twenties you loved relationships

But hated to remain tied up

You learned the art of balancing 

Without one knowing the other

You followed the world and tied the knot

Promising to remain forever one 

A taboo to think otherwise

A couple of years later, the taboo remained

But your mind broke free.

You can cheat

There is nothing wrong in a fling

A straight face will keep you safe.

You have cheated the world

But for the world you are still an angel.

Words that hurt.

Words that hurt 

Words that hurt

Shoot like a blowgun

Never to retract

Remain, never forgotten 

Knock me with the wand

Hurt me with a stab

Wound painful and bloody

Pain all over the body

Wound soon healed

Pain relieved.

All forgotten and set off

And scars wilt off

But the spoken words that hurt

Haunt till I remain

Never to forget and never to forgive

The words, I pray, never to hear again .

Words from the heart.

Words from the heart

Words, virtuous words uttered
Deep from one’s heart,
Softens the arrogance and anger
To reveal the goodness within,
 
Words from the heart
Brightens one’s face
The satin glow radiating hope and trust
To melt away layers of despair.
 
Ill will and spite
Like hailstones, wilt away
As the love coil unwinds
To bind the mind with love.
 
Soothing words, like flowers
Shower hope embalmed with fragrance.
Reminding of a gentle stream
Flowing within a realm.
 
Virtuous words from the heart
Exalts the world around
The vibes in selfless abundance,
Pacifies the world into submission.
 
Gracious words like temple bells
Resonate and remind
That words on a platter
Make life a wee bit better.

The garden bench

The garden bench

 

Moving down the walkway
Through the archway
Into the garden; green and flowery
Kindling faded memories.
 
It was a longtime ago
Lovelorn with a bruised ego
The hidden garden bench reassured
Life continued unhindered.
 
The bench that once served well
Now lay like driftwood.
Battered in sun and rain
Bundled under garden leaves
 
Well hidden at the mercy
Of the blowing breeze
Broken, shattered
Like an extinguished teenage crush.
 
No more worry, no more bruise
Life just a cruise in serene waters
The garden bench withers away
For it never matters anymore.

One more dawn

One more dawn

 

At the break of day
Birds twittering away
Peacocks restless
Awaiting morning rays.
 
A sparrow chirping
Or is it a lark calling its mate
That woke me from slumber
Into the darkness lingering on.
 
But never realized in that darkness
A tryst with life was called off.
Never ever to see
The light that followed the dark.
 
One more dawn
Is all that I needed
To say goodbye
But that was never to be.
 

 

World by my side

World by my side

The church, edifice of might

Steeples painted bright

The cleric witnessed the knot I tied

Vowed never to untie.

Quivering fingers brushed my hand

As I slipped the wedding band

Felt world is by my side

Yes, till end we would bind.

I took that vow

My lady, my love

Will lend a helping hand

And shoulders too I will lend.

Lean on, lady, till the thick world thins

But thick or thin

Will always remain close to your heart 

Till death make us apart.

Translation in Malayalam by Haroon Rasheed

Appreciation by Shyam Lawrence Aug 2020

I am old, so what

I am old, so what

I am old, so what?
It doesn’t really matter,
But it does to some.
 
With jeans and polo shirt,
I am out for a stroll.
Why dress like this, my wife for decades shouts
Dress your age.
 
I am old, so what?
It doesn’t really matter,
But it does to some.
 
Why not switch to sneakers,
I am told it’s comfier.
I did get a florescent green.
Aren’t you old for these? My mama chided.
 
I am old, so what?
It doesn’t really matter,
But it does to some.
 
Let me sport a beard.
No matter it is all salt, with no pepper
Does it befit your age?
Subtly opines the barber.
 
I am old, so what?
It doesn’t really matter,
But it does to some.
 
For the heck of it I colored my hair.
You look great, said the hair dresser
But why dye now, aren’t you old
My teenage son murmured.
 
I am old, so what?
It doesn’t really matter,
But it does to some.
 
It was the month of May and sizzling hot.
My friend suggested a pair of shades,
I wore and entered the gate
The watchman smiled to himself; I knew why.
 
I am old, so what?
It doesn’t really matter,
But it does to some.
 
It was a weekend and I thought of bowling. 
With a few kids I reached the alley.
Be at the ropes, said one of them.
With your age why try, I got it.
 
I am old, so what?
It doesn’t really matter,
But it does to some.
 
It was New Year's eve 
I yearned to shake a leg.
Take care, said the DJ
You may tear a ligament.
 
I am old, so what?
It doesn’t really matter,
But it does to some.
 
Age does matter
I am sure.
But does it really?
Not for me, but for the little world around me.