WAR WITH WORLD
- Dr.P.Malathy
Ease of independence
Easily experiences interruption by
Eclipsing relations known for
Greed, avarice and snobbery.

Peace of our regular routine
Perhaps perishes by the
Pestilence progress of
Cumbersome cyber crimes

Grace of God is sought only for
Cozy life, covetous currency
Poisoned thoughts and
Usurped extravaganza

How stunning God is to be
To set right the guzzling gluttony,
Ruthless rowdyism and
Cut-burn roots of cardinal sins
To extricate his creation
From the clutches of evil
For ever to sing in serenity.

SILENCE ...
                       - P.Malathy
It is immeasurably intense
At times, tears off diabolic pretence.
It manifolds overt reality
Projects one's ability
Listens, & listens keenly
Prior to judging vainly.
It is undoubtedly a panacea
For both living and existing
As the meaning of live is measured
In silence, that is highly treasured.

NATURE - THE PANACEA
                        - P.Malathy

The mighty mist merged
Into her mind & caged
All sweet memories collected
At the strech-open of vivid
window through which
the splendid morn left
A silky smile that
Slowly sneaked, crawled
Over her fragile face
Testifying the hardships-
Forgotten which hardly
Can make her heart heavy
Anymore perhaps - Nevermore.
The uncanny power of nature
Unfolds the panacea of ectasy
By inducing the stigma of oblivion
To rejuvenate, invigorate and
Banish the fickle feeling forever
from her mind by holding
Her in the motherly bossom
Of mighty Nature.

(Written for my son's poetry recitation competition)

LIVE HEALTHY

                         - P.Malathy

I am a little boy 

Playing with a toy

Dresses are to wear 

For my teddy bear

I am a little boy

Playing with a toy..

I used to play

with China clay

Mould it many ways

In my little place

I am little boy

Playing with a toy..

Playing on the ground

Where I run around

To catch my peers 

With joyful cheers

I am a little boy

Playing with a toy..

There are sets to build

Based on my will

Video game versions 

Increase my passion

I am a little boy

Playing with a toy..

Thank you teacher

That's my poem

To live healthy

Thus be wealthy.

I am little boy

Playing with a toy..

GOD: MY STRESS BUSTER
                                          - P.Malathy
Reading relished my senses
With real intension since
The convergence of career goals
Swiped my time clean bowled
Balancing family and profession
Many a times bore my confession
To my children for trivial reason
With all aspiration to remain a beacon
Of hope, trust, will and affection
Trying to build a connection
Between God and me in eternity

Wow! It's Raining
                         - P.Malathy
To make the heart
Melt to its music
To sprinkle smile
Over the spirit
To feed the feet
With frenzy dance
To its melody
Heard and unheard.

SOCIETAL DISGUISE
                          - P. Malathy
A wishful wait gave way
For a rustic whistle wildly gushed,
but mildly muttered without noise,
At the sight of the bus,
Speeding towards the rush.
My whistling attempt had gone vain
Leaving my voice box with a strange pain.
However, my widened scope
of reaching home soon
during the scorching noon,
seemed a refreshing boon.
Whistling is a taboo for women
So, it was rehearsed and relished
Without waking the world
In which I live as it could
weaken my social image.
A hypocritical hiding of true face
Plays part of professionalism
Many a times with a stereotyped
Practice and praise by the
Poor world with a plastic smile.

FRIENDSHIP NOSTALGIA
                                         - P.Malathy
No doubt - you are my friend
Whether you sulk or talk.
You comprehend my interests
And I value your perceptions.
Distance cannot separate us
To delve deep into
Those treassured memories
We spent together in our hometown.
Now, my day is your night
So, we miss each very right.
Work keeps you tied-tight
I'm held by my family's might.
I know well - Friendship is selfless
Where willing sacrifices fled franctic
To compromise our compatibility
With all our blunders and blemishes.
So, be not bothered about this
Snobbish societal taboos-which
Hurts and humiliates with a
Pretentious posture of perfection.
Is there a need for perfection
In friendship? Which of course
Sustains an abstract concept
As we are born imperfect.