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Poems On / About RIVER  11/22/2014 9:21:50 PM
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  237.     

Ganga

Ganga the river system that starts from Himalayas
The holiest river of India the people believes
The gangetic plain fertile and feeds the country
Gives such large segment of society by farm labor
Ganga have such strong feeling and importance.

Ganga flows through uttarakand and then south to east
Have a strong cultural and histrocial importance
The purity of water were acclaimed all over
Through length and width Ganga the mighty river
That helps to make the largest area to irrigate

Ganga the river system to be maintained in clean
Every drop of water must make potable to drink
Ganga the river have much importance to life system
As all other great rivers of the world that flows.
 
Gangadharan nair Pulingat..

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  238.     

The Story Of A River!

That empty river was filled with water,
Running water never stagnant to collect litter,
Clean and clear to see the treasures stored,
Heavy pebbles, the quick fish on the soften rocks,
Green kingdom of algae and their blooms peep,
Dipped into the river to pick up a handful,
Of tiny river sand, suddenly floated along the river,
That drifted and took me to a furlong,
How to swim opposite when the current was so strong,
Shocked, confused and kept the head above the liquid,
I saw myself moving faster with the Mother Nature,
The green wild yam with spacious big leaves,
Where my grannies told that the reptiles hide,
The recently planted teak trees stood still,
The palms were high and full of fruits,
Even one not dropped into the water, when I passed,
Bananas were useless with soft stem,
There was a slanting coconut tree at the brim
Leaned to the river for water and sun,
I held its root as hard as I could,
Reached the bank with joy in a blink,
That river full of water is empty now,
And our farmers not even go out,
To check their handed down plowing tools,
The dried up Tamil Nadu with people with tears,
A nuclear plant is built on its shore.
 
veeraiyah subbulakshmi

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  239.     

Down in the deep water..

Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where I ponder my life
Just how did I get to this

Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where the waterfall of dreams
Sweeps away what’s left to the abyss

Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where time stands still
just only forever.

Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where I buried all
That was ever my childhood

Where I let it go,
Where it bends and meanders,
Twisting along as the years went past.
Seemingly calm, but screaming beneath the surface
Were its hidden whirlpools, a sweeping current

Down in the deep water,
I left the edge of the river,
As I looked down
For my soul at the bottom.

Deep in the deep water
Swept away by the river

I drowned in life,

......Sinking forever.
 
DEEP DARK SOUL POET

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  240.     

The Dirge of a River

My eyes were hooked on to the West
Feasting on the riot of colors the sun had cast
I stood dazed at a sight so blest
That any poet would treasure with zest

By chance I glanced at the river below
It moved like an overloaded carriage slow
With floating weeds and dirty rubbish
Reminding one of an ugly heap of trash

I saw partially submerged bottles bobbing on the surface
Gradually filling with dirty water perforce
And slowly sinking down to rest in peace
With their sunken brethren at the river base

Spill of oil glistened iridescent
On the face of the river florescent
Its water was far from clean
And had turned murky green

On the still surface was a layer of scum
Like rancid butter annoying anyone's calm
Reeking smell of rotten fish and mulch
Entered my nostrils with an obnoxious stench

I closed my eyes and turned my head
And looked away from the river bed
I thought of man's callous audacity
In assaulting Nature's pristine vitality

I heard the river's rising lament
And me it did acutely torment
Any sensitive soul would be left grieving
Watching the river in agony heaving

In the far horizon, the sky had grown into flames
I wondered if Nature was mad at man's tall claims
Suddenly I saw with the eyes of a seer
That Doomsday is drawing near!
 
Valsa George

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Poems On / About RIVER