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White wings and Red horns

They have been part of bedtime stories since ages. Angels and Devils. And that is how every kid gets his/her first moral teachings of life. The concept of good and evil might be unfathomable at their age if told in a bland manner. To explain them that good and evil both reside within us might be slightly tough in a direct way. And that is when all stories, poems and songs give a helping hand. Say the same as stories or sing as a poem , they grasp it well and easily. 

When I started writing for a kid's theme I was skeptical. I had never written children's poetry, until now. I was definitely nervous. I had to take care that the lines should be simple, understandable and easy to rhyme along for the kid.

 And as a reward for my effort, my friend's niece won the first prize reciting this poem. It is extremely satisfactory to know that someone recited your poem so well. Takes me back to my childhood days.

So here it goes my maiden poem for the kids on their day. Happy Children's Day. 

White wings and Red horns

Little wings white,
Angel tells what's right,
Red Devil horns,
Teaches me all wrong,
I searched with my cat,
And found them in my heart.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        This is my cute reciter 

© Copyright Salvwi Prasad [POETICbug]

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That smaller one is still my home

The train stopped at it's last destination and her journey began. The enormous city, sea of unfamiliar faces and with a known suitcase,Kiran embarked on her job life, 4 years ago. The emotions were same as any other newbie in her office. She was afraid but this freedom was what she wanted for long. As time moved ahead Kiran crossed confirmation, promotions and above all 4 years in this unknown city just like one of those many. Strangers became a priority and family missed the regular calls. She is satisfied but doubtful, if happy. 
Today while returning from office the girl in the bus was a reflection of her, 4 years ago.
Kiran asked her, "Where are you from?"
The answer brought back old, beloved memories, which Kiran now laments. 


That smaller one is still my home


Freedom, I yearned for it,
While everything around was familiar,
I desired for strange aspirations,
Now when every day is unexpected,
I turn through the album old,
Searching the familiarity I once captured,
From stingy lanes to broad highways,
From cozy walls to glass buildings,
From pocket money to salary,
From casual to formal,
I have grown,free and strong,
All along the way,
More names, no relations I've added,
Busy in conversation with just voices,
My own get listed as a missed call,
Some days I am proud where I am,
All days I wish to relax,
With a sip of coffee from "Her" kitchen,
Another of "His" life lessons,
Or teasing that sibling young,
This bigger city may have build my job,
But that smaller one is still my home.

© Copyright Salvwi Prasad[POETICbug]

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AS SHE LEFT

Voting to enter the final round for TATA Literature Live contest starts from today until 8th Nov.
Please click the below link to vote for my poem-
AS SHE LEFT [Every Father's emotion on his daughter's wedding day]

You need to Like the TATA Literature Live contest Facebook page to be able to vote.
Few clicks might not take much time. :))

Voting is now Closed.


AS SHE LEFT


"And this is how I loved her",
He said to himself,
As she climbed down,
The staircase with poise,
Where her anklets giggled before,
Where her feet stomped in anger,
Where her shoes flew in tiredness,
But not today,
He stood among the crowd,
All eyes watched her,
And her embellished beauty,
While he saw her innocence,
Her fickle stubbornness,
And his pride,
Welled up eyes, his heavy heart,
Greeting each one, smiles and laugh,
He looked at her sitting there,          
Reverberating chants,
As she became another’s prayer,
The moment arrived,
Sooner than known,
When the hustle and bustle,
Began to mourn,
He gulped the pain yet again,
While she held him tight,
Soaked in her tears his silence spoke,
“I wish you never had to leave this side”
All seconds of love bestowed,
Ran down his arms,
The last time as her only man,
When he embraced her closely,
Giving his comfort and warmth,
Bidding adieu, as she left,
He waved at his daughter,
And looked at the house,
Where, as a toddler she played.

© Copyright Salvwi Prasad[POETICbug]

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I am Woman


I am woman,
I have a body that I proudly own.

But,

When you grope me off guard in a bus overcrowded,
Your thoughts stink more than your sweat,
When you sneak into my privacy without my consent,
You bother me more than dirt,
When you scan me over with eyes wide open,
You pierce through me and my soul,
When you corner me waiting in the secluded lane,
Your ugly shadow thereafter haunts,
When you choose me, my parts and mock,
You kill me before death befalls,
When you rip me off in paintings on the college walls,
I feel bare even with all clothes on,
When you force me to accept your love bitterly,
I am marred for lifelong,
When you seek me as an owner, for entertainment,
I shudder while you revel, you flaunt,

You and many like your crooked mind,
Curse me, my birth,
Sometimes the ghost of you crosses my way,
I wish I could hide myself somewhere,
I demand not anything but this,
Don’t drag my dignity naked,
Nor worship me sacred,
If you can,
Treat me as a human.

© Copyright Salvwi Prasad [POETICbug]

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