My Poems

T.O.T. for Tongue Of Truth That Mama has got in her mouth. The tongue that God gives you If He finds you are true. That, God marks from His abode And picks the ones who are good -- The goodness of heart and mind With virtues of the humankind : Mind of morals and reason, Heart of love and compassion; Mind of wishes for others, Heart of praises for others; No malice or greed, but need That you get by own deed; All conducts that're genuine, Nor audacious, nor mean; Nor reckless, nor cowardly, Nor betraying, nor silly; Love for truth, for untruth hate, Freedom from fear and conceit; Being obedient and decent, Being tolerant, innocent... Your tongue speaks if true you are; If wrong, no good human you are. Your goodness makes your tongue, And your speech slips not to wrong. God found in Mama no wrong,  So He gifted her the tongue.  Mama, owing to her goodness, Can use the tongue to success.  And all laud Mama as a deity Because of this divine T.O.T.. - N P SAMAL 

One, Two, Three, Four; Mama is one in a crore. Five, Six, Seven, Eight; She always speaks n works right. Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve; With all, she does nicely behave.  Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen; She always keeps neat n clean.  Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty; She has every good n great quality. Twenty, Nineteen, Eighteen, Seventeen; She always follows her routine.  Sixteen, Fifteen, Fourteen, Thirteen; She does hate untruth n sin. Twelve, Eleven, Ten, Nine; To everyone, she's kind n fine. Eight, Seven, Six, Five; She is outspoken n brave.  Four, Three, Two, One; In all, Mama is number one. - N P SAMAL 

Mama wakes up to mom's callings, Each morning, and some yummy hissings; "Your breakfast!", mom shouts from kitchen, But she walks out straight to the garden.  Flies of butterflies with tiny wings, Their flaps and glides through floral blings... The shiny blooms in morning sun, If swimming all around the garden. Cheeps and chirps of playful nestlings,  And chimes and chants of divine blessings... The hums and croons of vocal morn, If it's singing with Nature's tone. Scurries of squirrels and frogs' hoppings And shaking of pines with gentle whistlings... The earth, the sky, the rising sun, If up to a new life all have woken. Plants and shrubs with pulpy bearings - Their fruits and berries as rich offerings; Fragrance filled in, this morning garden, For Mama, turns a lovely heaven.  Who can describe this little girl's feelings When trees do bend down to her greetings? Happy, refreshed, she does return  With some fruits for papa and mom. - N P SAMAL 

Tip, tip, tip..., when patters rain, Moves something in Mama's brain; As out she her neck does crane, She sees a stream 'long the lane. Then bolts she out of the door For the stream of rain water, That flows with pitter-patter, Where bubbles form and rupture.  To collect them she hopes, As they burst under raindrops; But she waits not till rain stops, And onto stream she hops. But bubbles bob up, then sink Under her eyes' wet blink; 'Rain is crook.', she does think, And her face does turn pink. At rain she throws her anger And sees rain fleeing in fear, But on stream no bubbles appear, Then stream does disappear! In tears, Mama returns, Too young to know what it turns, That bubbles are brief funs; Yet for them, she hugely yearns... Rain comes, stream flows, bubbles form, And Mama wants to take home All bubbles, at least, some, But none she can, as goes past autumn. - N P SAMAL

Mama is good in all, But in Math, she's so dull. Ask her what's seven into seven, She would answer eleven. Ask her what comes after ten, "I'm not well.", she would feign. But in each annual test, She comes out as the best. In Math, with perfect hundred, She scores, of others, far ahead.  Like Afghans, a poor line-up, Winning the cricket world cup, Like Indians, same poor line-up, Winning the football world cup; Can you ever imagine  That two plus two is nine? But it's true for Mama, Who creates this annual drama. Hush! Hush! It's for her father Who's the school's Math teacher. But to complain, don't dare, He's not a stuff to spare. If you've scored ninety-one, He'll make your score nineteen.  - N P SAMAL 

Everyday, Mama goes to school  With her friends, Lima and Pikul. While Mama is mindful of study, Those two girls are naughty and rowdy. While Mama answers every question, Those two girls only stare at and grin. While Mama loves peace and silence, Those two girls do shout and talk nonsense.  While Mama behaves with all so well, Those two girls play pranks and quarrel. While Mama cares for health and hygiene, Those two girls are careless and unclean.  While Mama is honest and speaks truth, Those two girls shoot lies from their mouth. While Mama always listens to elders, Those two girls do turn their deaf ears. While Mama is kind to animals, Even tigers get afraid of those two girls... While each one loves the little Mama, They hate those two - Pikul and Lima. But Mama loves a lot her two friends, Coz they're neglected by their parents.  The two girls do love Mama very', For their wrongs, they tell Mama 'Sorry'. And Mama sees they grow, though slowly, Disciplined, moral, g

A for Apple, B for Banana, Everyday, some fruit is kept for Mama.  C for Cat, D for Doll, Pets, dolls or puppets, Mama plays with all. E for Egg, F for fish, Mama loves fruit, milk, but chocolate is nice. G for Goat, H for Hen, Mama hates their eaters - the sinful men. I for Iris, J for Jasmine, Mama cares for all flowers in the garden.  K for Kashmir, L for London, But at home, Mama feels all beauty and fun. M for Mother, N for Nature, Mama finds God in them and in her father. O for Ocean, P for Pond, Of playing in water, Mama is so fond. Q for Queen, R for Ruler, Mama will be none, But one like her mother.  S for Student, T for Teacher, Mama always comes first in learning and lore. U for Unique, V for Virtue, With her values, Mama can surprise you. W for Work, X for X-ray, One can create great thing, who works each day. Y for Youth, Z for Zero, Mama wants, for her country, to be a hero. - N P SAMAL 

The clever little Mama once at night, S nuck down the bed with her breaths tight. Tiptoed to wardrobe in the dark, So slyly her parents couldn't mark.  She fumbled for dad's trouser pocket  And pulled out his new leather wallet. Wallet in hand, she groped back to bed And slipped to her parents, then shouted, "Mom...mom! Dad...dad! A thief ! A thief !" As both awakened to her mischief.  Before they made it out, she went on, "I saw in dream, dad's wallet is gone." Dad rushed to wardrobe, as mom lit on, Too startled to think it was her fun. To his shock, dad found wallet missing, As mom dashed to door, over theft worrying.  But door was intact to her wonder, While Mama with wallet burst into laughter.  "I'm the thief. I'm the thief.", she told  laughing, With her laughed mom, dad, till the morning.  - N P SAMAL 

After dinner, before night grows deep, Mommy, papa, Mama go to sleep. Mommy does sleep off  singing folks, And papa telling stories and jokes. The little girl asleep, each of them snores, As room resounds with heavy roars. Though among parents and free from fears, Can ever one sleep with roars to ears ? Papa does snore with rocking rattles, Mommy 'so snorts; to sleep Mama battles. Sits up Mama, her legs on mommy, Her head does swing with papa's tummy. Sometimes she sits, sometimes she stands, Then gropes to close their nose with her hands. But, throw off her hands the snoring jokers, As she tries in vain to stop the hooters. She gags her ears with her little fingers, Up to mom she snuggles and whimpers. The night moves on, no sleeps, no slumbers, Mama stays wakeful listening to snores. - N P SAMAL 

"Ice-cream! Ice-cream!", Shouted the hawker in luring rhythm, "Cup, and cone, and crunchy waifer, Eat up, eat up, it's now or never." "Ice-cream! Ice-cream!", Shouted Mama if woke up from dream, "Mom, mom, gimme money, gimme money, I'll eat Ice-cream crunchy and coney." "Ice-cream! Ice-cream!", Shouted mommy in angry steam, "You can't eat, you can't eat, you bad girl, You've grown portly, your teeth do fall." "Ice-cream! Ice-cream!", Shouted Mama in tearful scream, "Papa, gimme money, gimme money ! I'll eat Ice-cream crunchy and coney." "Ice-cream! Ice-cream!", Shouted papa  with doting gleam, "Give my daughter, oh cream vendor, The whole of ice-cream and crunchy waifer." - N P SAMAL 

You came and left, if life you found in me Too waste a place to host your saintly sojourn; Howe'er long will this Jacobin's wait be Ere you return, ere your showers return? But I shall wait - till my life does depart - With sin of filicide of the mourning dove, Like in her mourns as she tears her chest 'part, Bangs her head for killing her own love, That I do cry - eyes dry, heart aching, hope wither'd, As luck is lost with Coockie by an unfair take; All nests are full of cheers, so is each bird, But razed's my nest, unquench'd my thirsty beak  Held up open ever for your ingress, Oh my daughter, my only blood and flesh ! - N P SAMAL