I am a bird perched on the branches of
My beautiful feathers, like a rainbow arc
Paints the landscape
In splendid colours !
I fly to the mountain tops
I see the lush green valleys turned
Bare and burned
Cut trees – trunks turmoil
Like Wizard’s cruel wand
Left to bleed
Hurt too deep!
Human beings are so unkind
To cut trees, for building their own house n huts
My nest is snatched
The Rainforest are burning
The fires roaring, flames swallowing
Vardent trees n flowers n
Canopy of greens regimed
Lived in glory
The Lion’s roared
The Macaws prattle
The Jaguars jumped
The Elephants trumpet
The snakes hizzed
All are now astray
In the blazing orange grey flames
Some on the verge of
Are left with out a habitat
Such are the cruelties of mankind
Deaf to the woes of animals
Their silent cries
Who were once the glory
Of the jungles
Are shunned now!
I fly to the southern skies
Mocked by humans
I try to build my nest in
The Tropical lands
My maple trees, and sandel wood trees. Are cropped, chopped
With mighty blows
I fly and perch on the Banyan tree
I find some solace
Fluttering my hurt wings
Caged in defaced world!
Sitting under the
I am enlightened
To see my self and my birdee’ s fate
Oblivion, lost in hazy smoke n
But I can’t accept my future
Betrayed and burned
By the atrocities done by the humans
I fly, to other lands ,further
Only to survive
A frail existence!
The rivers are drowned in a pool
Of sullen existence
Murky, waters and carrying the dead souls
Washing human sins, before the part for their heavenly journeys
For their shaky rumblings!
I fly to the end of the world
I fly to burrow in trees
Find my own
With the winds of change
Bereft of my ecosystems
Over the Amazon
(C) Poet Aneeta Chitale 23/05/2022
Theme – Climate Change
Standing on the banks of river Seine
In Paris shines majestically the
Remnants of the mediaeval Louvre Fortress once,
Now enfolds antiquities, grandiose, evanescence , immortal art engraved – inked, polished, painted, grafted,
Sculpted in Stella
All stand tall still in amber light
Telling glorious stories to mankind some in spirited moods and some in sombre.
History of bygone era
Sculptures raise to talk to us, of untold saga of sad, bitter truths of brutal wars of Egyptian, Byzantine, Mediaeval and Roman empires.
The Rosetta Stone- granodiorite
Tells of Egyptian times and scripts decodes of battles, death and suffering of a mother’s pain , her copious tears!
Each a priceless craft, Surreal paintings, on canvas or glass.
Mesmerizing Monalisa’s enigmatic smile
Captivates the mortals’s mind
Triggers hundred’s of questions
Well poised, enchanting eyes enamored
And bewitching smile of Monalisa!
Mystifies her portrait
Is she real? Who painted her?
Was she mystical?
Is she smiling at me?
Keeps you spell bound, and lingers on every voyeurs mind forever!
All eyes rest on the quintessential art
Chef-d- œuvre ‘Leo nardo da Vinci’
still visits the museum of magnificence
Of paradise and knowledge
sculptures, paintings, ceremics
Collages of Renaissance in awe!
Sun dials will turn everyday
Time will tik tok! forever but
La Louvre will stand
On the sands of time
Citadel of Treasures!
Printed in La Fenètre de Paris
Poetry anthology dedicated to France
All Copyrights of the Poet Shanita Vichare. (aka Aneeta Chitale)
4/ April 2022 India
I am made to come to life
By your soft touch and
Formed in mind’s eye n
God’s image ‘
A picture perfect
Sensuous ! Diana
Bejewelled In My Artistry
Wrapped in smooth silken folds Embellished in enticing curves
By your guilded hands.
I dazzle and entrap
my ravishing looks
A thousand dreams
A thousand moans
Of my lovers
I gaze at them
…. besotted in my guise
But I am only yours
In my body and soul
I am made from
A speck of dust !
When you chiselled
My beauteous form!
Poem (c) of Aneeta Chitale from India
I saw a gypsy
By the side of- Pharaoh’s in Egypt
So scintillating was her headgear adorned
With silvern and gold coins
She walked in poise as she
Skirted her long Egyptian Gypsy Trails
Clad in ……
Myriad colours and mystique stance
She walked round the tall big
Pharaoh’s and Pyramids
Lost in archaic time
May be she had
To find her answers
Buried deep, lost in vicisstudes of time!
She gazed at her ‘Crystal Ball’
Intonating with chimes
And walked away,
As if The Pharaoh’s would breathe to life
And she would find
The secrets of life!
In tombs one lived a life
So the tale of Pharaoh’s tell
So exotic and ephemeral
In times they lived!
I stood behind, the tombs
Struck in awe and wonder
I too looked at The Pyramids
Why The Kings, The Pharaoh’s lay
In majestic tombs?
A story of it’s reign
Waiting to breathe to life
May be the winds knew the secret!
The Gypsy too bespoke
They would rise to rule
In glory of their tribe!
To live in a mirage
Of time travel
Of battles fought long ago, to recount
Glory in the Aquarian age!
To tell the story, to the spirits
I wondered, if the dead would rise
From the sand dunes?
In time travel…….
I followed her
To the streets of Baghdad, in Samara
by the river, Tigris
The sun had set, and she carried
Frankieinsence, burnt briquettes
In a silver ‘Bakhoor’
She trailed it’s incense and peacock feathers
In the bazaars and wadi’s of
The old, den of Caliph!
She spelled her charms and
Wore her talisman, her amulets
Whispering to herself….
Of the wind and the water!
She wore orthoceras dagger ring,
Long and crafty Omani style
Decked in Aqeeq Red Rings
Bejewelled her- all ten fingers
With cats eye and moonstones
She wore her long ‘Black Abeya’
Puffed in lingering scents
Clinging to her bosom, her Arabic perfumes
Adorned with Egyptian silver cuffs,
And ten toe nails, covered in Bedounin’s maze
I followed her in awe and wonder
Like a man in trance!
Dare not ask her my………
I think, she was…. my Talisman !
Who took me to
The streets of Baghdad!
Poem Gypsy (c) Aneeta Chitale from India dated August 27th 2019. All Copyrights Reserved.
Peace Begins In Our Heart!
Waging wars for arsenal
and ascending frontiers
Flying hawkers, stinger missiles, gunshots and tanks buring in blazes
All to shoot the enemy down
Do or Die! Is the godam word
Bloody bath, and battle cry
Is seen in ghost towns and barns
Killing of innocent people, the old and the young- too naive to understand the ploys of coy nations!
The nation bleeding, people fleeing
All refugees now, in foreign lands
Escape ! Refuge! Harassed minds and Hallucinations of the bombings
Sirens trilling , orphaned children and deluded , helpless parents.
Living in bare minimums now , in chared buildings n bunkers
Life tumbled like a pack of cards!
Life is so fragile!
Exodus of a nation
Crying for Peace!
Peace to breathe peace to feel peace to preserve brotherhood !
By (c) Poet Aneeta Chitale