Shah, these should be sent directly to Grasshopper and not through the List.
Since the poems are chosen on merit no names should be associated with a
poem and sending them via the List rather undermines the anonymity aspect.
Read Grassshopper's posting again, carefully. regards Arthur
----- Original Message -----
From: "c s shah" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Monday, June 30, 2003 5:43 AM
Subject: Three Poems for WORM 22


> Three Poems for WORM 22
>
> 1.
> Manifestation
>
> Those changing figures of clouds
> - dark, grotesque, and beautiful -
> reveal the blue sky behind;
> likewise words in a story book
> describe events of a blank life.
>
> Those raindrops -
> pure, clear, and cool -
> bring peace to parched earth;
> likewise the drop in your eye
> offers solace to a famished soul.
>
> And then the rainbow!
> as light penetrates misty clouds;
> likewise you reveal yourself
> when a flood of tears
> touches your feet.
> --
>
> 2.
> Problems of Poverty
>
> The rickshaw came to a halt
> and the puller heaved a sigh.
> She paid the money,
> and as got down in hurry
> her sari found a protruding nail;
> the tear caused an estimated loss
> of about rupees five hundred.
>
> "I'm sorry, madam,' apologized
> the rickshaw-man.
>
> The lady was not sure whether
> to scold or not to scold;
> the dilemma showed as a tear
> in her eye.
>
> "Oh, man, what have you done?"
>
> The rickshaw-puller flattened the nail
> with a nearby stone, and said:
> "Mm, I'll take you home, free,
> and drop you again here
> after you change your attire."
>
> "No, Baba, that's not the worry;
> the point is -
> the sari belongs to a friend."
> --
>
> 3.
> Meeting the Partner
>
> The tear at precipice held a shadow
> of a flying crow across the dying sun
> - black against red;
> words were unable
> to portray emotions,
> thoughts are colorless on their own.
>
> I felt incomplete, alone,
> feared the shadow of a dancing oak
> across the still lake
> - black against silver;
> words unable to capture the reflection,
> thoughts have no form of their own.
>
> That reassuring touch,
> as I looked up with misty eyes;
> laughter across your face
> - pure and simple,
> enough to establish a relation;
> thoughts have language of their own.
> --
>
> c s shah