The Glorious Love Flag - A poem by Deepak Menon

Treasures of life lie scattered along the way

Ahead is the fiery dragon we must slay
To cross the bridge across the abyss so deep
To reach the paradise where we are to sleep

No sword do we have in our hands to weild
The dragon is strong and will never yeild
And if we stop and pause a while to think
Time will see that our armour has a chink

And the insidious mist of foraging time
Will enter with its sweet enticing wine
And lost in reviewing our life page by page
We shall fall victim to ravaging age

What shall we do? The cry erupts in pain
From our parched lips turned upwards for rain
Then falls on them a tiny little drop
Of sweet nectar of love from Gods own crop

And the sword is sheathed with a bright smile
Lightened strides swiftly cover the last mile
The beacon of love lights up the dark world
The glorious love flag above is unfurled

And the dragons fire of hate dies out
And he stands aside – we joyously shout
Hurray! As we enter the promised land
To embrace for ever our long lost band

The people who had left our little world
Or into the raging storms of life hurled
By time, which then only stops at the gate
Of Eternity where we meet our mate

Then there is no other journey to start
There we shall again never have to part
From the ones who were the songs of our life
To oblivion shall be banished all strife

By Deepak Menon - 14th June 2006 on this blog

An utterly butterly divine creation of nature - photographed by me!!

Wonder of wonders - the very first butterfly

I saw in my garden this year and the lazy and

noisy me managed not only to get the camera

before it flew away - but also managed to reach

it noiselessly and photograph. I wonder if some

one will give me the pat on the back I richly

deserve for this stupendous acheivement!!

A Distant Shore - A poem by Deepak Menon

A Distant Shore
.
Strange, through this crowd of anguished souls
My chariot with some hidden purpose rolls
Carrying me helplessly to some distant shore
But will I reach it before my bell tolls?
.
And having reached that dim distant shore
Will I find that I have been there before?
And will I hear that same song in the breeze
That was sung by thee in the days of yore?
.
And will that great love folklore of the past
Awaken to its destiny at long long last?
And will thy spirit assume the form I knew
Before it too was into the cauldron cast?
.
And shall then the cauldron spill out its content?
And shall then serenades, the still air rent?
Summoning the lost loves, of yester-years
And shall then return those, who yesterday went?
.
And will they have the meaning of life learned?
And will they cherish what once they spurned?
And will there be songs singing in their hearts?
Or will their souls too, into stone have turned?
.
Deepak Menon
Copyright ©2004 Deepak Menon

'Daffodils' by William Wordsworth

'Daffodils'
William Wordsworth

.
I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host of golden daffodils,

Beside the lake, beneath the trees

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze

.
Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way

They stretched in never-ending line

along the margin of the bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance

.
The waves beside them danced;but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be so gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed - and gazed - but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

.
For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon the inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

.

The simplicity and beauty of great poetry ...

All Through The Night
Alfred Lord Tennyson

.
Sleep my love and peace attend thee,

All through the night;

Guardian angels, God will send thee,

All through the night

Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,

Hill and vale in slumber sleeping,

Love alone His watch is keeping,

All through the night.

.
While the moon her watch is keeping,

All through the night;

While the weary world is sleeping,

All through the night

.

O'er the spirit gently stealing,

Visions of delight revealing,

Breathes a pure and holy feeling,

All through the night

.

A quatrain from Khayyam and one written by me..

LXXIII. A quartrain by Omar Khayyam from

his immortal Rubiyyat of Omar Khayyam

translated by Edward Fitzgerald
.

Ah, Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire
.
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
.
Would not we shatter it to bits--and then
.
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire!

.

*******

No 132. A quartrain by Deepak Menon from his book of

Poetry - Tamam Shudh - Poems of Passion

.

Many a time have I made strong my resolve

.

To seek an answer - the great mystery to solve

.

As to why HE who gives and takes all

.

Decreed that the puzzle of life - remain unsolv'd?

A CHILD OF THE EARTH - A poem by Deepak Menon

I am a child of the Earth
Priceless and Rare
A child so fair
Drinking its love since birth

At first I understood not why
Hunger made me weak
No one to me would speak
And I would cling to the Earth and cry

And many questions rose in my brain
Why were my clothes torn?
Why was I weary and worn?
Why did I have to sleep out in the rain?

And as I grew the answers came to me
I was a child of the Earth
Which was my house and my hearth
To share it's joy and pain was my destiny

And now as on it's cold bosom I lie
Its anguished love to share
I see before me laid bare
The souls of the Averted Eyes scurrying by.

Copyright - Deepak Menon

Re Post of Empire Hill - The Battle of Bunker Hill - A poem by Deepak Menon

I decided to post this again

.

EMPIRE HILL

The battle lost , the remnants fled

Of the once proud host, gallantly led

By flamboyant officers in flashing red

Nursing wounds that profusely bled

.

Not long 'ere had bounded up the hill

Hearts pounding, flush'd with the thrill

Of certain victory, no thought that ill

Could befall them, of indomitable will

.

Almost at the summit, they heard a shout

"NOW LADS," and then, there flashed out

A wall of flame, from the silent redoubt

And then began the rout

.

Of the greatest army the world had known

By ragged farmers in skin and bone

Who rebelled against the British throne

To found a nation of their own

.

A haphazard derelict mob, of motley men

With flintlocks so old, some knew not when

they had been made, or even when

had last been used, or would function then.

.

They crouched behind their earthen mound

which overnight, had raised from the ground,

And with haggard eyes looked around

Their ears filled with the thunderous sound

.

Of the Redshirts charging in full cry

And each thought he'd surely die

And his body rotting there would lie

Food for the vultures circling high.

.

For ammunition, they almost had none

No strength had they to try to run

Just one thought, into their minds was drum'd

Hold fire, and the battle is won

.

So there they crouched with simple faith

Until it was almost too late

For nearly upon them, crazed with hate

Loomed the enemy, invincible and great

.

Then suddenly they heard the awaited shout

"FIRE," and the trusty flints belched out

A sheet of death in a mighty gout

Which toss'd the British right about.

.

Like corks floating in a stormy sea

Shattering instantly what used to be

The pride of the Empire's army

But the farmers still crouched wearily.

.

Not even knowing they had toll'd

That day on Bunker Hill

The bell, whose chimes rolled

Around the world until

.

......THE LOSS OF EMPIRE

Pictures of long ago and a trophy

This post is dedicated to my son Sammy who was so
caring even when he was a little boy and my startling
daughter who is not serene at all unlike her name
Serena and my "dedicated to work" wife Abha who won
the trophy on the SARC two wheeler rally on a scooter
and the friends who had a picnic with us when I
had the idea of having a Birthday Picnic instead of a
Birthday Party at a picnic spot near our town and
finally and mainly it is dedicated to my wonderful mother
who is in the blue saree in the group of people you see
and who taught us in her own simple words
"you should always be kind, gentle and loving"

Sailing over the Turquoise Sea - A painting by Deepak Menon

The days of the great sailing ships are over

but memories of their glory live on ....

The Reunion of my Probationary Officers Batch 1980

We had a wonderful reunion in January 2006

and though some were missing - many came

and we remembered the old days and

and laughed and joked with abandon and then

suddenly realised that - though we were older,

and perhaps a little wiser, we were in no way

different from what we had been when

we had joined that wonderful organisation

"The State Bank of India"

Sleep! - A poem by Deepak Menon

SLEEP

Sleep! Why do you not come to me?
To cradle my furrowed brow in your lap
And gently close my eyes
Shutting out the world of lies
Where caged I live in this iron trap.

I know that you do not understand why
I should call to you so very soon
When it was only last night
In dusk's fading light
That you came to me with the rising moon

And while I slumbered, you smoothed my brow
And covered my body with your own gown
Though restless I slept
And in dreams I wept
Tears my livid memory scars to drown

I woke with the same old ache in my heart
Feeling that to me you had never come
Had never rested my head
On your lap pillow in bed
Forgive me! I was not what I have become.

And where lives the Gardener ... A quatrain by Deepak Menon

Quatrain No 88. From Tamamshudh

There are some old debts, which I must but repay
for collecting roses scattered along my way.
But how will I return along the path of life?

And where lives the Gardener, to whom I must pay?

Where have all the flowers gone - The words of that beautiful song

Having long ago forgotten the words - I asked a question

on yahoo answers and then went through the similair

questions list and FOUND the words !

So I am pasting them for you all to sing and cherish the

thought behind them.

.
Where have all the flowers gone?
Where have all the flowers gone?

Long time passing

Where have all the flowers gone?

Long time ago

Where have all the flowers gone?

Girls have picked them every one

When will they ever learn?

When will they ever learn?

.

Where have all the young girls gone?

Long time passing

Where have all the young girls gone?

Long time ago

Where have all the young girls gone?

Taken husbands every one

When will they ever learn?

When will they ever learn?

.

Where have all the young men gone?

Long time passing

Where have all the young men gone?

Long time ago

Where have all the young men gone?

Gone for soldiers every one

When will they ever learn?

When will they ever learn?

.

Where have all the soldiers gone?

Long time passing

Where have all the soldiers gone?

Long time ago

Where have all the soldiers gone?

Gone to graveyards every one

When will they ever learn?W

hen will they ever learn?

.

Where have all the graveyards gone?

Long time passing

Where have all the graveyards gone?

Long time ago

Where have all the graveyards gone?

Covered with flowers every one

When will we ever learn?

When will we ever learn?

.

I may never see - a Quatrain by Deepak Menon

A QUATRAIN for those who are far away...

I may never see the tender beauty of thine eyes
Nor see thy body from gentle slumber rise
But far away, I have felt the heaving of thy bosom
Its raging storms, soaring into the skies.

And the same thought restructured and

rewritten with the syllables counted....

I may not see the beauty of thine eyes

Nor see thy body from its slumber rise

But from far I have felt thy bosum heave

It's raging storms, soaring into the skies!

A Painting by my daughter Serena - Sailing through choppy seas

And I thought ... that I was better than my daughter!!
She painted this painting virtually in an hour

or two and showed me who was better since I

would take weeks to make a painting - in fact I painted

for only a year or so - and then gave up painting

altogether because it was too hard for me!

SAILING THROUGH CHOPPY SEAS

by Serena Menon

The story of a letter I sent and a Poem I composed - Deepak Menon

Dear p_and_q
You sent me the mail and perhaps I have

been found wanting in respect of not being

able to send you the name of the poem or the

poet or anything else about its origins which

you asked for. But I am writing the rest of it

just now and hope the poor substitute

which I manage to write and send

holds the fort for you.
.
"My Aunt she died a month ago,

And left me all her riches,
Shattered - my head hung low
Memories stored in Niches
.
Niches of my shaken mind
In fragments - a kalediscope
Of the care she gave to bind
Us for ever without a rope

No shackles to hold us were used
No threats of dire consequences
No attempt to leave us confused
No slaps to bring us to our senses
.
Her riches were not stores of gold
Or mansions built of marble and jade
Nor valued antiques one could hold
Nor bank accounts which bankers made
.
They were the treasures of her mind
Memories she kept to share some day
Stored in little diaries she would bind
To help us read and find our way
.
Through this maze we call our lives
Where faith and love are hard to find
Where husbands leave their caring wives
Wives have changed their tone of mind
.
Where children leave parents for money
Where mammon has the field to play
Where words said are coated with honey
Where to hear them we have to pay
.
Pay with the sacrifice of our love
Pay with sacrifice or all our peace
Pay by raising our hands to him above
To save us from them who fleece
.
No-my Aunt left us the meaning of “Love”
And the meaning of the word “Care”
She left for us her memories glove
To shield us always - every where
.
And remind us of the battles fought
To keep us sheltered from any harm
And in harms net we were never caught
Because of her steady caring arm
.
She left us the treasure of eternal joy
In the small things found in this world
The little girls skip or the prance of a boy
The sound of laughter into the wind hurled
.
She left us a vision of brotherhood
Of a paradise of winged angel’s song
Of dancing as much as we ever could
Of a shining future with music all along
.
That was how best my aunt can I describe
And the precious gifts she left for us all
Treasures with which us she would bribe
To always keep our footsteps in truth’s Hall !
.
Deepak Menon
Dehradun, India, 20th April 2006
PS :- Your letter sent to me was :-

poetrywriters@yahoogroups.com
From: "p_and_q"

Date: Thu, 20 Apr 2006 01:45:16 -0000
Subject: [poetrywriters] Finding my long lost poem
"My Aunt she died a month ago,

And left me all her riches,......

Can any one complete it or point me to

the right author, book or URL

thanks

WOULD I BE THE SONG OR THE MUSIC? A poem I wrote ...

WOULD I BE THE SONG OR THE MUSIC?

Were I - the song sung by my love

I would soar to the skies all alone

Were I - the music played by my love

The world would kneel before my throne

But were I - both the music and the song

I would be sung by the forest leaves

And the wind would whistle all along

When my love passed under the eaves

I THINK I WOULD BE A MUSICAL BALLAD TO LOVE!

Deepak Menon

20th April 2006

S E P

This is an Excerpt from Douglas Adams Book ...........

"I think," said Ford in a tone of voice which Arthur by now
recognized as one which presaged something utterly unintelligible,
"that there's an SEP over there."
He pointed.
Curiously enough, the direction he pointed in was not the one in which
he was looking. Arthur looked in the one direction, which was towards
the sight-screens, and in the other which was at the field of play.
He nodded,
he shrugged. He shrugged again.
"A what?" he said.
"An SEP."
"An S ...?"
"... EP."
"And what's that?"
"Somebody Else's Problem."
"Ah, good," said Arthur and relaxed. He had no idea what all
that was about, but at least it seemed to be over. It wasn't.
"Over there," said Ford, again pointing at the sight-screens
and looking at the pitch.
"Where?" said Arthur.
"There!" said Ford.
"I see," said Arthur, who didn't.
"You do?" said Ford.
"What?" said Arthur.
"Can you see," said Ford patiently, "the SEP?"
"I thought you said that was somebody else's problem."
"That's right."
Arthur nodded slowly, carefully and with an air of immense
stupidity.
"And I want to know," said Ford, "if you can see it."
"You do?"
"Yes."
"What," said Arthur, "does it look like?"
"Well, how should I know, you fool?" shouted Ford. "If you can
see it, you tell me."
Arthur experienced that dull throbbing sensation just behind
the temples which was a hallmark of so many of his
conversations with Ford! His brain lurked like a frightened puppy
in its kennel. Ford took him by the arm.
"An SEP," he said, "is something that we can't see, or don't see,
or our brain doesn't let us see, because we think that it's somebody
else's problem. That's what SEP means. Somebody Else's Problem. T
he brain just edits it out, it's like a blind spot. If you look at it directly
you won't see it unless you know precisely what it is. Your only hope

is to catch it by surprise out of the corner of your eye."
"Ah," said Arthur, "then that's why ..."
"Yes," said Ford, who knew what Arthur was going to say.
"... you've been jumping up and ..."
"Yes."
"... down, and blinking ..."
"Yes."
"... and ..."
"I think you've got the message."
"I can see it," said Arthur, "it's a spaceship."
From Life, the Universe, and Everything by Douglas Adams

I posted this poem long ago on the great site of Lucius Furius

The City

by Deepak Menon

.

Mud splatters my bare feet

Stars shine in darkened skies

As I walk to where we used to meet

The night echoes some waif's cries.

.

I see the pavements lumpy with logs

Huddled against the cold night chill

Humanity interspersed with dogs

Carrion awaiting vultures' will

.

The stench of decay fills my soul

Like tangible shadows invading me

Questions whirl; I approach my goal

The now solitary Tamarind Tree

.

Dim memories of a long forgotten grove

Of verdant sunlit waving leaves

Fleet through my mind; my eyes rove

For the spot, which still its magic weaves

.

My feet softly caress the hallowed soil

As they have done these many years

Then must I return to again toil

To forget your memory through tears

.

And become one with the City for another night

And live with the City through another day

The City where my kin are common sight

The City that gives and then takes away.

.
Copyright © Deepak Menon ("The City" is part

of a collection of poems from my third volume

of poetry entitled "A Lingering Fragrance....".

"The City" was first published on my (now defunct)

Tamam Shudh: Poems of Passion website.

Also posted on the site of Lucious

http://www.serve.com/Lucius/PLG.post1950.index.html

http://www.serve.com/Lucius/PLG.post1950.index.html

A painting of an African Woman by Deepak Menon

Nothing in life is easy

and painting this wonderful woman

was certainly not easy

A poem I wrote spontaneously for the birthday of the child of an unknown person I met on the net in a chat room

Richard of Eternal Love

A lion was born one day long ago
Sent to this earth as a gift long ago
A gift of the God's to teach all the world
All about bravery whose flag he unfurled

When stepped he on earth he felt unafraid
For no reason had he - of love was he made
His eyes were bright with all of life's joys
His world was filled with enchanted toys

His skin was like ivory - soft and white
His face was a beacon of silvery light
His heart was of gold warm and aglow
His mind was a fount of wisdom's flow

This little creature so precious and true
Was the magnet to which all hearts flew
And little Richard - That was his name
Was born under a star - the star of fame.

Destined is he to fly to the far away stars
And he shall be - garlanded with flowers
And the entire world shall his praises sing
For he is Richard - of hearts - the King.

With love
For your birthday

Deepak
12.12.98

Tempest Over a Cold Land - A painting by Deepak Menon

When there are the fiery winds of war or love

Some remain unaffected like the placid dove

Some rage and churn out emotion

And sleep through the commotion

Like the Icy Coldness of Snow Covered land .....

But even in the cold desolation

There remains a spark of elation

And a house is built - a house of love

Like the little house we see above

And always there will be Lady Hope's hand......

MY FORLORN DANCE - A poem by Deepak Menon

Unfold thy wraps, O Future misty
And let me peer into thine heart
And let me know why you retreated
Into nothingness like some faded art
.
You were bright and glorious once
Beckoning me with the brightest smile
You frolicked and danced before my eyes
Luring me onwards all the while
.
And just when I thought I had you
Within my grasp, you faded
Into the dense and thickening fog
Leaving me trembling and jaded
.
I screamed, ran around in circles
Reaching out, pleading and protesting
Through clenched teeth and flowing tears
Calling you back without resting
.
But you, like a fickle love grown Bored
Vanished without a backward glance
Taking my life with you in your arms
Leaving me alone to my forlorn dance
.
Deepak Menon

Beweeping the state of things to come - A Sonnet by Deepak Menon

Beweeping the state of things to come when day ends
In stupor when I do lie in fulsome emptiness profound
With mind and restless soul draped in sorrows liniments
Watching the movements complete the inevitable round
And comes into the emptiness a hint of a whisper of voice
Deftly, gently, intruding like a needle into sanguine flesh
Demanding, insistent, opening new avenues of choice
A singing of angel's whispers appearing this stone to bless
And hope awakens to lift sorrow's cloak a little while
And flickers in the darkness some mysterious light
And invisibly a wispy manifestation of innocent guile
Opens little windows of sunshine tantalisingly bright
Then does soar into the firmament on gossamer wings
My awakened soul seeking anew the mystery of things

Green Glory in the demoninloves garden ?

Green Glory - Growing in my Garden

Can you guess what it is?

Spiders ? We Love them!

SPIDERS ARE LILIES TOO

AND THEY GROW IN MY GARDEN!

HILLTOP PAVILLION - A painting by Deepak Menon

T'is the place !!!!!

And a song I just composed sung

to the tune of "Home,Home on the Range"

which every one should know!

"Home Home on the heights"

Oh! Give me a home

Where the flowers will bloom

And the air is so balmy and light

That I would not exchange

That Pavillion of Change

For all of the cities so bright

Home Home on the heights
With the eagles are in full flight

Where seldom is heard

A discouraging word

And the songs of love are in flight

.

I would not forego

The soothing winds blow

For all of the plains great might

So give me a home

Where the bees always roam

And the stars are always so bright

Home Home on the heights

With the eagles are in full flight
Where seldom is heard
A discouraging word
And the songs of love are in flight

.

I would not exchange
That Pavillion of Change
For all of the cities so bright

So Build it on the hill

Where songs of faries trill

And life is just one great thrill

Home Home on the heights
Where the birds with grass hoppers play
Where seldom is heard
A discouraging word
And the night is full of loves rays

.....Deepak Menon

(13th March 2006)

Beautiful Truth - A picture of two wonderful little souls

THIS PICTURE WAS SENT TO ME AS AN

EMAIL BY A FRIEND AND IT HAS A HINDI

WORD IN IT. THE WORD IS "SACHEE" -

WHICH MEANS "REALLY!"

The love of a child in its innocence, is the love of beauty

transcending the lessons of beauty and love our

world teaches and tries to instill in us .

Love is incomparable and it

sees the beauty of

the soul

in us.

A verse from "The Lingering Fragrance" Short Story by Deepak Menon

Strange, that you stand here alone and cry
.
Though your battle is won and lifeless I lie!
.
Strange, why you do not rejoice at your triumph!
.
Is it at Victories Door, - you saw a dream die?

Jealousy - Thoughts by Deepak Menon

11. JEALOUSY

.

11.1 Beware of jealousy. It will reduce the strongest mind to
imbecility. It will reduce the strongest body to a bag of bones.
And it will burn out all emotions forever.

.
11.2 The jealous are like the clouds passing on overhead.

One is never sure when one or the other will pour.

.
11.3 Behold the great Oracle. He can tell you every thing that
will happen in the future - except the actions of one afflicted

with jealousy.
And thats that!!

HOME AFTER THE RIOTS - A painting by Deepak Menon

That is what happens to what was once ones

palace after riots take place instigated by some

poor misguided souls!!

A touch of genius - A quote by Albert Einstien

"Any intelligent fool can make things bigger,
more complex, and more violent.
It takes a touch of genius and a lot of courage
to move in the opposite direction."
– Albert Einstein

THE HEAVENS WEPT FOR YOU - Just a thought I had

THE HEAVENS WEPT FOR YOU

The hills were alive with the softness
Of the voice of the falling droplets
of the tears of the skies
But you were not ever to know
That the heavens too were
Missing the brightness of you!
As I was…….

An Excerpt from the Song of Hiawatha by Longfellow

The Song of Hiawatha
by Henry W. Longfellow
.
"Face to face we speak together,
But we cannot speak when absent,
Cannot send our voices from us
To the friends that dwell afar off;
Cannot send a secret message,
But the bearer learns our secret,
May pervert it, may betray it,
May reveal it unto others."
.
Thus said Hiawatha,
walkingIn the solitary forest

.

This excerpt arose out of a

memory I had, of when I read

the Song of Hiawatha

many many years ago and

long before I learnt the meaning

of a friend or of love or of eternity...

I wish you all the best my friend

A Rose for Rose

Hammurabi's Code said
"An eye for an eye
and
A tooth for a tooth!"

.
I say

"A Rose for a Rose"
so
Here is a Rose for a Rose from my Garden

The edge of Doom? I wonder what Shakespeare meant in this sonnet..

Sonnet CXVI
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments, love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O No! it is an ever-fixed mark,
T hat looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand’ring bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come,
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out to the edge of doom:
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ or no man ever loved.
William Shakespeare, 1564-1616

In any case I love Shakespeare's Sonnets!

We grow great by dreams - A quote by Woodrow Wilson

We grow great by dreams.

All big men are dreamers.

They see things in the soft haze of a spring day

or in the red fire of a long winter's evening.

Some of us let these great dreams die,

but others nourish and protect them; nurse them through bad days

till they bring them to the sunshine and light

which comes always to those

who sincerely hope that their dreams will come true.

Thus wrote one of the finest presidents of the USA - Woodrow Wilson

The demoninlove has reflected on this and thinks (maybe).....

Perhaps some of us are not destined for greatness, because

we let our dreams die.........

Perhaps some of us are not destined for greatness, because

we let other's dreams die ............

And perhaps some of us are not destined for greatness, because

we love those who let us kill our dreams ...........

Or perhaps some of us are not destined for greatness, because
we love those who themselves kill our dreams ...........

So why do dreams not come true, even for those who

sincerely hope their dreams will come true one day ???

Sailing into the Sunset - A painting by DEEPAK MENON

And an immortal excerpt from "Ulysees by Alfred Lord Tennyson"

Come My Friends
Its not too late to seek a newer world
Push off, and sitting well in order
Smite the sounding furrows
For my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset
And the baths of all the western stars
Until I die

It may be that the gulfs shall wash us down
It may be that we shall reach the happy isles
And meet the great Achilles
Whom we knew

Though much is taken
Much abides
And though we are now not that strength
That in days of old
Moved Earth and Heaven
That what we are - we are
One equal temper of heroic hearts
Made weak by time and fate
But strong in will
To strive
To seek
To find
And not to yield!

Maybe one of us will sail into the Sunset one day.....

ODE TO THE WRIGHT BROTHERS By Deepak Menon

The stage was set on Kill Devil Hill
For the Greatest Act of the human race
The actors - two - of indomitable will
Entered with firm and determined face.

.
In All of Kitty Hawk there were five
Who arrived as audience on that day.
Four men, one boy made up the five
Who saw man leave the earth that day.

.
Wilbur Wright, the elder of the two,
Stepped back and gestured Oriville in
To the Strangest Contraption ever seen
Made of canvas, wires, rubber and tin.

.
Wilbur stepped up and pulled the string
The Homemade Engine to life came
Oriville gently accelerated to bring
Around the nose of the Airplane.

.
The propeller whirled true and fast
The ‘ FLYER ‘started its bumpy run
Faster and still faster till at last
Against the Earth it’s battle it won

.
Lurching like a drunkard on the road
It staggered into the air at last
Carrying with it- its 340 KG load
And the Future of the World recast.

.
Forever will the World be justly proud
Of the Brothers WILbur and OriVILLE
Who had the vision to scatter the cloud
And subjugate the sky to Free Mans Will

13. SEPARATION

13.1 Those of weak resolve and fickle affection will shed

the most tears on being separated from the one they

supposedly love. And they will be the first to turn

elsewhere for solace.

Those with true love will suffer the

separation in silence, for the image of their

loved one lying deep in their hearts will

nurture their spirit and provide them

with the strength to wait till they are united

once more.
.
13.2 Is there a deeper sorrow than that of the separation of a
child from its parents ? Or the lover from his love ?
Both rela­tionships are based upon one thing -

the selfless giving of one's entire self.
.
13.3 If thou art to be separated, then let it be quick like the
fall of a guillotine. To prolong the farewell is to put

thyself, as well as the farer on the rack;

The beautiful Doon Valley with the Mussoorie hills

A PLOT OF LAND AT DEHRADUN SURROUNDED
BY HILLS AND UNSPOILT BY THE TRAPPINGS
OF CIVILISATION - A PLACE TO SETTLE DOWN
IN AND WHILE AWAY THE YEARS IN DREAMS

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR

And a wish for all the wonderful people in my
life that their lives are tinted with the beautiful
colours of the rising dawn of love and hope
Deepak

'TIS AN IDLE FANCY - A poem by Deepak Menon

I love HER? How can you say that?
I tell you it is not true!
You insist! Even when it isn't a fact?
Oh! How can I convince you?
.
I do not believe a word you say!
And even if I did, so what?
So what if throughout the day
My brow is feverish and hot?
.
So what if from my deepest slumber
I start and then to her call out?
So what if efforts to erase her memory
Have by time - been put to rout?
.
So what if I only think of her
And talk and dream and live her name?
So what if my eyes are often filmed
With tears of sorrow, lingering shame
.
That I could not my conscience still
And keep my tryst with destiny's call?
So what if her image my heart does fill
So what if she holds my heart in thrall?
.
'Tis nonsense, once more I tell you
You are mistaken though you know me well
Even though away with my soul she flew
'Tis an idle fancy, - can't you tell?

THE NEW MILLENNIUM.....a poem by Deepak Menon

The New Millennium dawned - clearing the haze
But had mankind decided to change its ways?
Many are the species of plant and animal life
Who thank man for freeing them from strife!
.
Freeing them forever, (since they exist no more)
For elevating them to being subjects of folklore
And they can never be troubled by hunger or pain
And now need no shelter from the sun or the rain!
.
Ah! Man! You truly are a praiseworthy breed
For you even annihilate all that you need!
And your plans for the next millennium indeed
Exceed anything even God could have decreed!
.
Star wars you have planned with lasers you made
The nuclear race you run on the edge of a blade
You harvest the sea now the land is stripped dry
And already now to reach other planets, you try!
.
The forests that burdened this old mother earth
Have been piously cleared to warm your hearth
With concrete jungles you have decorated her afresh
Levelled mountains rising like thorns from her flesh!
.
The air that gave support to the life forms so many
Who fed on mother earth without paying a penny,
By you has been fouled too, and its insidious design
Foiled by the car and factory smoke which is the sign!
.
That all the other remaining earthly life there still is
Had better be careful and beware of mankind's kiss!
If they want to live to see their offspring grow
They must never their faces to any man show!

Money and love thoughts by Deepak Menon

9. MONEY

------------
9.1 Money isn’t funny. It is a serious matter. To be without

it is like having one's neck in a guillotine. And, to have it, is
like having a sword of Damocles hanging over one's head.

Either way, there is no escape from it!

*
9.2 The only thing more precious than money is love.

But love will wither in daily drudgery without money.

It is not recommend­ed for a poor man to fall in

love.

*
9.3 Wilt thou part with thy true love for all the money

in the world? Nay, because there will be no joy in

the spending of even one dry penny!

Wilt thou part with the solitary penny thou hast, to buy

a trinket for thy true love and go hungry to bed? Yea,

because the joys of the world wilt be thine in

the spending!
=======================================

Mashima on 3rd December 2005 at Dehradun

That is a picture of my Aunt Promilla Ghose on her birthday
the most wonderfully 89 year young person actually still
blossoming at 16 and going on 17

 

An excerpt from the Childrens book "WORMUS" by Deepak Menon

The Wonderful Booga Dooga Land Forest

.

There were Golden trees and Green trees
And Silvery trees and Cream trees.
There were large trees and small trees,
Short trees and tall trees;

.
There were trees with fat trunks
And trees with thin trunks.
Trees that grew from the ground
And trees that could hop around

.
There were trees that walked
And some trees that talked
Some trees who could sing
Some with bells that could ring

.
There was even a tree
That no one could see
So as you can see my little one
The Booga Dooga forest is full of fun

.
It is a place that always seems
To be seen by us only in dreams
But be sure that maybe one day
You will see a Pixie along your way

.
And if his name is Pickwick,
don’t forget to ask
The way to the Booga Dooga Land
at last

.

With Love to all the children of this world

Deepak

A Wild Flower in my Garden - Amazing!! - And a poem!

I suddenly noticed this amazing creation of
Nature in my garden and it reminded me of
a poem I wrote long ago - Here it is -

MORNING LIGHT
by
Deepak Menon

Morning light of amber grey
Materializing from the void
Earth's diaphanous veils peeling away,
As draped in Night she invisible lays.
.
Each lifted veil revealing shades
Of silvery grey slowly emerging,
As the starry gown of night fades
Before the imperceptibly surging
.
Tide of morning light that aspires
To clasp lady Earth in its embrace,
In a frenzy of controlled desire,
A blush rising on its face
.
As the fading gown reveals,
In glorious nakedness the charms
That Night covetously conceals,
Within its protective outspread arms.
.
But morning continues relentlessly
The veils called Night, to strip away,
With eyes wide open, breathlessly,
Not caring Nights fears to allay.
.
Till there appear the contours
Against the faintly blushing sky,
Of heaving bosoms silhouetted
While Lady earth does sleeping lie.
.
A gentle zephyr fragrant with the scent
Of Earth's perfumes wafts gently down,
Caressing intrepidly the sacrosanct
Person of Earth in Nights faded gown.
.
A shiver through the figure shimmers
Of sleeping Earth; there is a stir
Of rustling leaves, and there glimmers,
A glimpse of her glory in a blur
.
Of tantalising, immortal, frozen time
Suddenly into focus springing,
As Morning light explodes to shine
Incandescently, with birdsong ringing,
.
The nuptial bells of their union immortal
And the Earth is bathed in ethereal glow,
While the sun peeps gently through the portal
Her beauty to the waiting world to show.
.

A Poem from a compilation Dated 1974 of Sunshine Magazine

THE BANKER AND THE GARDENER
.
A banker passed a gardener.
As each went on his way,
The gardener wished that he could be
A banker, rich and gay.
.
He’d sit in comfort in a chair
Behind his office walls
And greet important, busy men
Who came on urgent calls.
.
He didn’t know the banker’s thoughts.
The banker envied him
His glowing tan, his bright, clear eyes,
His graceful stride and vim.
.
“Oh, what a job!” the banker sighed
“To work near trees and roses,
And breathe fresh air that hasn’t been
In other people’s noses!”

• Posted Without permission from Lyla Myers - the poet

LOVES END - A poem by Deepak Menon

LOVES END

It was brought to my notice
In words profound
By one who has loved intensely
The world around

That the end of love
comes.....
When the stars fall to earth
Crushing freedom into bottomless wells,
And the devils take rebirth
Amidst the clamor of clanging bells,
When volcanoes spout fiery death
Burning emotions into torrid ash,
And tornadoes shout obscene threats
Driving divinity before them to crash,
Into barren hills of cracked stone,
Where none can live nor even stand
For each moment there, lives alone
In the eternity men have not known,
To last but a moment in flaming time,
Which they only have lived to see
And feel, who have tasted the wine
Of love that forever will be
Their conceptualization of eternity
That exists in reveler’s worlds
Where never is seen the Trinity
Nor the flag of prudence unfurled
To be a shroud covering the corpses
Of mindless thoughts that try to fight
The bonds holding the synopsis
Of unborn yearnings put to flight
By constancy coursing the walls
Of forts built only to fall
Before righteousness’ tall
Sanctimonious claims to all
Who would or could never tell
That the end of love was not hell
Nor parting, nor hating as well

But annihilations final bell!!

Touch me not in my garden......

The hand went out to caress the leaves ........








And this is what happened !!!!!!






Sometimes we shrivel up when love reaches out to us.......

The Spear of Eternity - A fabric Painting by Deepak Menon

My first and only attempt at this kind of art ...

LIGHTHOUSE IN A GREY WORLD - A PAINTING BY DEEPAK MENON

THIS WAS PAINTED USING ONLY BLACK
WITH ITS MYRIAD SHADES

PRINCESS - a poem by Deepak Menon

PRINCESS
.

Leaning on the window sill
Waiting for her lord she stands,
Grasping the rusted iron grill
With coarse and worn out hands.
.
Now unkempt with streaks of grey
Her once lustrous locks of hair,
Trail in a tail behind her head
Her eyes locked in a fixed stare.
.
Staring at the bend of the dusty road
Willing him to come into sight,
His frail shoulders carrying the load
Manfully in the failing light,
.
Of the tantalisingly descending sun
Slowly vanishing into night's vale,
As though her little frame to shun
At the window leaning weak and frail.
.
A wistful sigh escapes her lips
As a pleasant memory from long ago,
Into her mind gently skips
Of all the joys she chose to forego.
.
When she followed him, so mild and kind
Into the harsh and cruel world outside,
To stand by his side and there to find
Her very own niche in which to hide.
.

Her eyes glisten with a tear unshed
Unblinking, she thinks of her child,
Lost long ago crying for bread
When hard times, her life defiled.
.
Then her face of a sudden is brightened
With a smile of beatific delight,
She stands erect her bearing lightened
As her Lord comes into her sight.
.
All thoughts of her poverty banished
She races down the stairs to greet,
The man who on her, just love lavished
As wearily he trudges up the street.
.
He sees her running, flying towards him
He drops the bag of toys unsold,
As from the streetlight high above him
He is swathed in a halo of gold.
.
His shoulders square out, his head erect
Contentment seeping into his face,
He stretches out his arms towards her
Wrapping her in tender embrace.
.

Some little while later he picks the things
Still holding her, clasped by his side,
The tattered woman and man on golden wings
Their world complete - walk inside........

MAN BRAINS OR WOMANS BRAIN PRICING LIST

BRAINS
     In the hospital the relatives gathered in the waiting room, where   their family member lay gravely ill.
     Finally, the doctor came in looking tired and somber. "I'm afraid I'm   the bearer of bad news," he said as he surveyed the worried faces.
       "The only hope left for your loved one at this time is a brain   transplant. It's an experimental procedure, very risky but it is the only hope."
       "Insurance will cover the procedure, but you will have to pay for the brain   yourselves." The family members sat silent as they absorbed the news.
       After  a great length of time, someone asked, "Well, how much does a brain cost?"
       The doctor quickly responded, "$5,000 for a male brain, and $200 for a  Female brain."
       The moment turned awkward. Men in the room tried not to smile, avoiding eye   contact with the women, but some actually smirked.
     A man, unable to control   his curiosity, blurted out the question everyone wanted to ask, "Why  is the male brain so much more?"
       The doctor smiled at the childish innocence and explained to the entire group, "It's just standard pricing procedure.  We have to mark down the price of the female brains, because they've actually been used."
.
Cheers.

Clock Tower at Dehradun

A beautiful Heritage Symbol of long ago at the
State Capital of the state of Uttaranchal

The Advantages of not knowing all the ways language is used

KETCHUPA woman was trying hard to get the ketchup
to come out of the bottle.
During her struggle the phone rang, so she asked her
4-year-old daughter to answer the phone.
.
"It's the minister,Mommy," the child said to her mother.
.
Then she added to the caller,
"Mommy can't come to the phone to talk to you right now.
She's hitting the bottle."

A REFLECTION BY ME : - WILL MANKIND EVER BE ABLE TO RETAIN THE INNOCENCE OF CHILDHOOD THROUGH ITS SHORT SOJURN ON EARTH?

Kadhai Pleasures - Peanuts

That is a Picture of an Indian Karhai .

It should be made of Iron to be really good.

And it is used in India for cooking virtually

every kind of vegetables, meat, sweetmeats

and snacks. The peanuts you see have been

roasted in hot sand in a Kadhai and believe it

or dont - there is nothing better than eating

this kind of roasted Indian peanut in the chilly

eventide as winter sets in.

SONNET NO 11 by Deepak Menon

SONNET NO 11
By Deepak Menon

Blemishes on Faces, Club Footed Children and Balding Maidens are part
Of jokes that the Gods play on the little two legged creature called Man
Blaming misfortune on the Gods then, and cursing nature from the start
Is but what must come naturally to the sufferers of this diverse clan.
Is there light in the darkness? And what does light look like? Can it be told
By one who is born without the pretty doe(s)s that the poets most admire?
Is there music in silence? And what does music sound like? Can it be told
By one who is one with the silence of eternity and in silence must retire?
Does God wait in the Churches and Mosques and Temples for man to pray?
That he may hear his voice from among the many who howl for Him
Does man have to bow his head and repeat what the holy men tell him say?
So that, he may be accepted by his fellows - filled with pity for him.
    So many questions asked and so many answers sought -Aeons pass
    Yet we imperfect remain, starkly reflected in life’s looking glass!!

THE TATTERED PENNANT - Title Poem of the Book by Deepak Menon

THE TATTERED PENNANT

'Twas nothing but a flash of purest white
Splitting the velvet fabric of the night
That was the passion of those yesteryears
Already fading ere the bird took flight

Yet, in that briefest of interludes with time
With greedy lips while gulping the wine
The meaning of life was revealed in full
Alas! To have tasted the fruit was the crime.

A bittersweet melody was the sentence passed
An everlasting joy - in eternal sorrow masked
Living memories to keep the wreck afloat
In futile search of a golden shore long past

But as a great bard long gone expressed
"Hope rises eternal in the human breast"
So does the lonely mast in an ocean of tears
Flutter its tattered pennant in its foolish quest.

JUMP IF YOU WANT TO REACH ANYWHERE AND THIS IS A PAINTING I MADE - JUMPING WITHOUT PARACHUTE

This is a Hello from Deepak

This was a wonderful painting in the Tibetan Library at Dehradun - so it took a snap - Run Like the Wind from now on

This is a Hello from Deepak

JOY - A proverb by Deepak Menon

JOY

10.1 Joy is the exhalted happiness that transcends all human
emotions. The meeting between two lovers; The vista of corn
ripening in the farmers field; The sight of a child relishing
food; all these give joy. And the greatest joy is the joy that
owes its birth to love.


10.2 To enjoy is to have a ephemeral feeling of pleasure on the
happening of a short lived event. Enjoyment lasts only as long as
the event and does not touch the deeper emotions. Joy permeates
to the very core of ones soul and touches the tenderest chords in
our hearts.


10.3 Is there any joy as intense and as surely destined to
retreat into gloom as the joy of a lover ?

SONNET NO 5 - By Deepak Menon

Ah! The pleasures of the flesh be nothing compared
To the savoring of a morsel when hunger calls
To the solace when in sickness am I tenderly cared
To its soothing touch when the summer rain falls

O! The pain of parting from my true love is naught
Compared to the agony when mine child does cry
Or the feel of his brow when it’s feverish and hot
Or from the glimpse of a tear in mother’s eye

But hunger’s soon forgot till the next meal
And autumn erases memories of the summer rain
A toy stops the cries and the pain soon does heal
Soon forgot is the tear in mother’s eye had lain

....... But my yearning for the tender looks of Love's eyes
....... Is simmering constancy – a glimpse of Paradise!