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With Mr. Ogden Nash in mind
A tribute or not, I write this rhyme
Of sarcasm and kindness not
Irreverence and a chutzpah lot
A rhyme to remind you again
In sanity lies the most insane

But there was Edgar Allan Poe
Who wrote of death, darkness and woe
Casks of men and corpses rot
A raven cries where the sun might not
Says he, “In your bed, when you go to sleep
By your hand, a lantern, keep!”

In Marathi Pu La Deshpande
Sarcastic too, on a sunny day
Timeless, uncanny, humourous quips
Merciless, his verbal whips
On day of drought of mirth and joy
Go back to this mid’class guy

Who else, I wonder, comes to mind
Of writing artist, drink and grime
Khushwant Singh, yes he, that man!
Half dressed ladies, pots and pan
Debauchery day in day out
Crass always, but cool no doubt!

-Anish Vyavahare

Continue this poem if you please, adding your own favourite poets to it!


My Facebook Feed – Anish Vyavahare

It starts with college
Duck-faced women, the Rock browed guys
Short skirt selfies, blazers and ties
12am birthday cakes, winter hooded heads
Little house parties and first toasted breads.

My facebook feed is full of mirrors
Mosaic glares, narcissist glitters.

Then they get married
Well, it is mating season
From 20 to 30 a decade passes
Travel, marriage, jobs and babies
Remove 50 friends and add 50 others
The list remains listless with the same bothers.

My facebook feed is full of mirrors
Mosaic glares, narcissist glitters.

That special bunch that starts out on their own
The country’s future, their homeland’s hope
Selling cotton candy online
Or just a youtube channel
Page likes to get to 10 by night
Tinpot achievements in local papers
A friend’s blog mentions superpowered capers.

My facebook feed is full of mirrors
Mosaic glares, narcissist glitters.

Political opinions and personal too
Attacking Jihadis and Brahmins too
Religions are fair game, America is right
Belief and faith, all joined in fight
Haters hate by day by night
For years they rant the same thing twice
Like clockwork, their opinions rise
Rebels rebel without reason or rhyme
Saviours save the world
Because they like pages of waterless homes
And hit going on events of soulless missionaries.

The world goes one more round
Another sunspot dies
A blackhole arises somewhere, gobbling up all in sight.
But my facebook feed, it doesn’t budge at all
Maybe a flashmob for a change
Then the same wishy-washy wall.

Because, my facebook feed is a huge mirror
A large crowd stands facing the mirror.
But who will see the crowd when you have your self to cheer?
The beautiful beautiful self.
The never-wrong self.
You have eyes, only for your self.
I have eyes, only for myself.
Go on, replace me with someone else.
Your facebook feed, will remain the same.
Mosaic glares and narcissist glitters.

– Anish VyavahareFB

Fire & Ice

When fires brew in snowy towns,
When volcanoes pulse subtle sound,
In cold it rains and hails and blows
And lava creeps up open doors.

Fire meets the eternal cold-
One is heavy, the other bold.
Both are old and have forever been,
Their war is a handsome scene.

For fire melts and burrows deep,
But ice does douse and borrows cheap;
When face to face they come somehow
Mighty upheavals they bring in tow.

Amber touch white, white turn blue;
Amber turn earth, its mud and stew,
Slough valleys deep, give planets spots,
Turn cloudy storms into lightening lots!

They see eye to eye but not at all,
They embrace in love in rise and fall,
They are children of the then and now,
But to agree, fate did not allow;
So they hold hands as and when they can-
One frostbite pinkie, one sun burnt hand.

– Anish Vyavahare

The Travel Poem

Walk-walk, Run-run, Catch a bus, get a Rick;
Bustle in the busy local, get in Quick Quick!

Hands up, bag down, feet hanging in the air,
Fourth seat, get it NOW, stare a butt in the face.

Sit-sit, Squirm-squirm, Shift seat, do it now!
Quarrel in the ladies dabba, Boom Boom Pow Pow!

Bappa Morya, bhajan on-through-the-morn.
Dadar come, gush out flow, and the people are gone.

VT come, local glide, fish flying by the smell.
Get down, Whew! Sigh! Tomorrow do it all again!

– Anish Vyavahare

Verbal Paintings – A Tandem Poem

Lurid, lucid, lewd and how!
Painting pictures with words,
Senses awakened, touch to wow;
Quinine shrills up the noise,
Ballroom postures, tidy poise,
On the backs of spicy birds.

A touch, a tickle and many a tingle!
Eyes that sparkle, raining joy,
Tiny hands on skin that’s wrinkled,
A splash of water, Oh! So fresh!
The little spider’s webby dress!
Pretty girls and lazy boys.

Whooshing by, touring bliss!
Putting out tongue to hugging wind,
Canopies by trees that kiss,
Going on forever lands,
Speakers playing distant bands,
Milestones that wave back in kind…

Emerald mountains, sapphire lakes,
Hot, fluffy idlis, chutney too,
Winding roads, mazes make,
Lenses and immortalized clicks,
Naughty fingers playing tricks,
Giggly, wiggly, bobbly, boo!

Journeys that go on and on…
Memories that are gift by now…
The end is near when it breaks dawn,
As sunlight cleanses the morning sky,
I can’t help but think and smile
Of the many more journeys in the tow…

– Angel Sivan & Anish Vyavahare

I Am Who I Am

I am me,
I am myself,
I am a flame,
I am the fire,
I am the breeze,
I am the rain,
I am the torrent,
I am the dust,
I am the ground,
I am the child,
I am the dead,
I am the fear,
I am the pain,
I am the king,
I am the naked,
I am the body,
I am the mind,
I am the touch,
I am the taste,
I am the eyes,
I am the past,
I am the present
I was what I am,

Now, I am much more!

– Anish Vyavahare

First Rains: Cliche Poem

I breathe in the wet earth,
it seduces my pasts to shimmer in front of my eyes;
They present an enthralling dance
To the constant patter of falling rain.
The breeze blows coolly on my happy wounds;
And for all the nostalgia that makes me smile,
The trees sway in agreement and mirth.

I sit at my window while the first rains make me think of cups of hot coffee, cuddles and kambals,
I wonder…Will you be part of my cliche tonight?

– Anish Vyavahare

Kambal – warm blanket.