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Yuvakavi From: World Peace Forum [mailto:[email protected]]
Sent: Monday, September 24, 2001 10:00 AM
Subject: Yuvakavi
Dear Friends,
In these troubled times,with terrorrism and anarchy
reigning hard,Each one of us should be doing our bit
to ensure World Peace and Harmony.This endeavour is
one with such a view,to instill in the mind of people,
a sense of beauty and everlasting appreciation for
peace and tranquility.Please read this beautiful poem below,and
appreciate the deep-dissolved concepts of beauty and peace woven so
intricately into soul-stinging lines,powered by the emotional onrush
of a supercharged hypersensitive mind of a Young
poet,and advocate of World Peace.
You should forward this peom to at least 10 people,
within 4 hours of the poem reaching you.If this
poem doesnt leave you in 10 directions within this
time,the gravest misfortunes will begin haunting you,
your worst nightmares will become true.People who
have taken this lightly have been reported to have
bitten multiple times by a mad dog,which in fact is
the re-incarnation of the Yound Poet,who in fact had
been beaten dead by an angry mob,a group of not-so-tol erating people
with an unfortunately finite beauty-sense.
If once you send the poem to 10 others, there awaits
you a pot of fortune,with your fondest wishes coming
true.This is not a joke,a time-tested act of goodwill
towards peace of mind,peace of world,and ever-lasting
happiness and bliss.
Regards and best WIshes
Anonymous
Read On..
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THE BUS-STOP BEAUTY / INNOCENT BEAUTY
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Oh beauty !! Oh beauty !! Oh flowery beauty
How bounty thy beauty !!!
How pristine thy beauty !!!
How copious thy innocence !!!
like the fragrance from an incense !
Oh No... Even fragrance of incense
is no where thy innocence.
How auspicious the rays
who glitters thy face!
Oh no... Even rays of sun
is nowhere thy eyes
How auspicious the breeze
who carry thy fragrance!
I envy the breeze, I envy the rays
who touch thy face and cover thy vase.
I envy the rain who embrace thyself
tending to steal thy fragrance
But Oh beauty, the rain is in vain.
Dont know the rain,
how abundant thy beauty, thy innocence...
Oh nature, my mother
Can I be a rain..?, May I be a breeze...?
Make me a rain..., make me a breeze...
In vain are my prayers
very well i know.
Still make me a rain, make me a breeze
At least next time...
Even the rush of the bus cant crush thy beauty.
Thou look so innocent, so serene and tranquil
Fool may be me, whose dreams may be wrong.
Nevertheless, I enjoy thy beauty, thy innocence
not like a butterfly lucky enough
to imbibe thy honey,
but, just as a spectator,
enthralled by the flower of thy beauty
thy innocence ....
Whence thee come, whither thee go,
i dont care, i dont mind.
just I love to imbibe thy beauty, thy innocence..
oblivious of the tick of the clock
until it conjures as the bus.
thenceforth, Deserted the bus-stop,
devoid of fragrance, devoid of beauty
, devoid of innocence
and i commence my journey round the clock,
to witness blooming of thy beauty, thy fragrance,
thy innocence for the next dawn to commence
like an ever ending cycle,
a vicious circle of expectation.
Plenty are those beauties..
Who exhibit so called beauty
through gestures of fashion
The serene sky laugh at them
Mother nature cries for them
And I pity them.
Never are them beauties
at least for myself
For beauty without innocence
is just another corpse for me.
Thy modesty sows the same
old seeds of grief.
Torrents of the inner sea
reminds me of the past
bitter was the taste
better was the moral
never to be neglected.
Thenceforth, "never shall i wish
to own an innocent beauty",
for know I very well,
my hands to be a deathbed to
any innocent flower,
devoid of beauty,
devoid of fragrance,
and devoid of innocence.
Hence, Whence thee come, whither thee go,
i dont care, i dont mind.
just I love to imbibe thy beauty, thy innocence..
oblivious of the tick of the clock
until it conjures as the bus.
Also A flower in a hand dwells in its deathbed.
I wish a flower in its stem.
Hence never shall i ever dare
to impair thy innocence, thy beauty and
thy fragrance.
Hence , Whence thee come, whither thee go,
i dont care, i dont mind.
just I love to imbibe thy beauty, thy innocence..
oblivious of the tick of the clock
until it conjures as the bus.
Oh mother nature, how pathetic
thy decreed predicament,
"the stife between intellect and aesthetic sense"
How long shall i hold on...
" Even the fire is aesthetic as a flower,
Even rose is adorned with thorn,
Heat ceases without cold
and cold ceases without heat"
babbles the intellect.
But powerful are glimpses of thy beauty sense
carried away by such innocent beauties.
Oh! mother nature, both are endowed by thee
Whom shall I shun...?
Poignant are them both
both still true , bewildering and contradicting
like a modern physics.
Hell is this world to me
for dont know I what to do...
dont know I where to go...
and dont know I what to revel in...
life still jostles between thou endowed
intelligence and beauty sense.
How long can I hold on...?
Blessed are the ones
who are devoid of intellect
for they can enjoy beauty
without any tremor.
Blessed are the ones
who are devoid of aesthetics
for they are the masters of their mind.
But Oh lovely flower,
how shall i shun thy beauty
thy innocence, thy fragrance...
No i wont,
but i dont want to own u
I love to be in expectation
for the truth is
Joy is expectation
Attainment is its culmination
for a deeper sorrow.
Hence do i wish, ever to be expecting
just as a spectator
for ever and ever and ever.
Never I need a culmination
never I do need any fruit.
Intellect and aesthetics embedded
is a curse
and a worthless body
adds more to it.
Hence, Whence thee come, whither thee go,
i dont care, i dont mind.
just I love to imbibe thy beauty, thy innocence..
oblivious of the tick of the clock
until it conjures as the bus.
Oh lovely beauty, long last thy beauty,
long last thy innocence
for i need to be expecting
expecting for an ever.
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