Life

What is life, the big question that often lingers
in everyone 's mind a little towards the end.
The answer is limited to a count of fingers
that much is quite easy to comprehend.

Success, says the businessman without a hint
of the failures he tucked hidden under the floor
Fame says the celebrity gulping with her pint
the shame and prejudice she met behind the door.

Love, says the monk who has renounced it all,
Karma, says the preacher who only knows to well.
Care, cry the poor, always at others' beck and call,
Money, laughs the politician, seeing to his pockets swell.

Not many realize it as an opportunity of grace
to use your power to light a smile on others' face.

Limericks

 

Poetry can take any form
There isn't just a fixed norm
All one needs is a keen interest
Even if it's sports that comes nearest
To stir in your brain the right storm.

Though the plan was to take full rest,
the week end went with fun and zest.
Now I am stuck with Monday blues
Mind and body stubbornly refuse
To get out of the cosy nest.

நாளும் புதியதாய் ஒரு கவிதை
எழுத வேண்டும் என்ற விதை
எண்ணத்தில் புதைந்துதான் இருக்கிறது
என்றாலும் ஒத்துழைக்க மறுக்கிறது
கற்பனை என்னும் கழுதை

Churn GPT

Gone are the days when you needed a spark
for your creative brain to open the door
and churn out rhymes from out of the dark
that you could present with pride on the floor

To think that a machine can have a brain

and compose thoughts in a cohesive bind
to create meaningful verses without strain
does embarrass my egotistic mind

What do we see happening in the future -
learning by self with interest and experiments
or just employ this collective knowledge structure
and leave the floor to these artificial exponents?

No doubt, we'll have a plethora of outputs
we know is too good to have come from ourselves
but doesn't the credit go to the programmers' inputs
leaving our individuality to dig its grave itself?