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Poetry

Heights of Inspiration

Sun, 02/11/2008 - 04:19 — foggy

If you, perchance,should zoom in on a night scenario, and see a beautiful cityscape clearly outlined in a night for celeberations and thus illumined;would you for a moment think such a sight was only possible if the air was clear?No mists, no inclement weather, no fog smogs!Naturally you would think so.if it were a night, when Roma, one of the greatest cities of those times was wrapped in flames and smoke, would you be able to see any city outlines?and like Nero, you might have relapsed into a recessive mood.What am I driving at?

Selected lines from Time-Line-English Poetry

Sat, 04/10/2008 - 03:04 — foggy

Excerpt;

63 Lo!Where the heath,with withering brake grown o'er,

Lends the light turf that warms the neighbouring poor,

From thence a length of burning sand appears,

Where the thin harvest waves its withered ears;

Rank weeds, that every art and care defy,

Reign o'er the land and rob the blighted rye:

There thistles stretch their prickly arms afar

And to the ragged infant threaten war;

There poppies nodding, mock the hope of toil;

There the blue bugloss paints the sterile soil;

Hardy and high, above the slender sheaf,

The slimy mallow waves her silky leaf,

Salute to the worker, who works for the”Green” cause

Wed, 21/05/2008 - 04:16 — foggy

How many people since the planet Earth was created must have had their favorite spots? Favorite spots of children are the ones remembered the best. When you see the map of the world you can be sure, that there are many such places of unpolluted beauty, far away from populated centres, which maybe the favorite spots of people living there. When one comes close to thinking of cities and their surroundings the chance of having a clean, clear, place of natural beauty becomes slim. Maybe 50 or 100 years back, here might have been such favorite spots. But now the count is diminishing. How many of the world's total populace of billions have had their favorite spots? How many of them cared they had? Yet how many swallowed their pride, curbed their anger, blinked away their tears, kept silent, did not know how to speak about their favorite spot which was also their secret place... when they found this secret place was there no more!! Lost to rapid modern construction and development work more often than not unplanned and indiscriminate. Or succumbed to a wave of pollution, toxic seepage from intervening industrial influences, overtaking the scenic beauty including your Favorite Spot?!

How many parents, taking their children back to their hometowns on a visit, hometowns from where they had migrated long time ago; made plans, almost having the sanctity of a pilgrimage to their favorite spots of their childhood days? How many stories they had told their offspring about this place, and how many times were the same stories told? And after building up the excitement in their little children's heads, they reached the place where their favorite haunt was-to find-it is not, anymore. It is just Not there... Not even a bit, not even a tail-end. It must be on the other side, hidden behind that structure! No it is not! Or maybe their favorite spot is now, eaten up by pollutants and toxic waste, its not just an eyeful of a sad degraded waste, pool of dirt, sludge and slime, or burnt out vegetation. Flowers have left for some eternal abode. No birds, no plump, furry animals , cute with sounds of peace and chirrups melting like music in your ears. No that is not enough, the nose wants to be a party to the protest. The place just stinks. Repel. Disgust. In the olden days, when people returned to the places they had left several years ago, the places were still there. The scenes of life being painted and repeated, with humans, birds, animals and flowers, like a classic painting by the old masters. Or for the children like a Disney film animation, when pages of opening books follow a brush moving into scenes of Disney's wonderland.