Archive for April, 2006

Where have all the flowers gone – The words of that beautiful song

April 27, 2006
Having long ago forgotten the words – I asked a question
on yahoo answers and then went through the similair
questions list and FOUND the words !
So I am pasting them for you all to sing and cherish the
thought behind them.
Where have all the flowers gone?
Where have all the flowers gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the flowers gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the flowers gone?
Girls have picked them every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where have all the young girls gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the young girls gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the young girls gone?
Taken husbands every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where have all the young men gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the young men gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the young men gone?
Gone for soldiers every one
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?
Where have all the soldiers gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the soldiers gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the soldiers gone?
Gone to graveyards every one
When will they ever learn?W
hen will they ever learn?
Where have all the graveyards gone?
Long time passing
Where have all the graveyards gone?
Long time ago
Where have all the graveyards gone?
Covered with flowers every one
When will we ever learn?
When will we ever learn?

Deepak Menon in Blue and Red

April 26, 2006
Just to let every one know that I smile too
Me in Red and Blue April 2006

I may never see – a Quatrain by Deepak Menon

April 25, 2006
A QUATRAIN for those who are far away…
I may never see the tender beauty of thine eyes
Nor see thy body from gentle slumber rise
But far away, I have felt the heaving of thy bosom
Its raging storms, soaring into the skies.
And the same thought restructured and
rewritten with the syllables counted….
I may not see the beauty of thine eyes
Nor see thy body from its slumber rise
But from far I have felt thy bosum heave
It’s raging storms, soaring into the skies!

A Painting by my daughter Serena – Sailing through choppy seas

April 24, 2006
And I thought … that I was better than my daughter!!
She painted this painting virtually in an hour
or two and showed me who was better since I
would take weeks to make a painting – in fact I painted
for only a year or so – and then gave up painting
altogether because it was too hard for me!
by Serena Menon

The story of a letter I sent and a Poem I composed – Deepak Menon

April 22, 2006
Dear p_and_q
You sent me the mail and perhaps I have
been found wanting in respect of not being
able to send you the name of the poem or the
poet or anything else about its origins which
you asked for. But I am writing the rest of it
just now and hope the poor substitute
which I manage to write and send
holds the fort for you.
“My Aunt she died a month ago,
And left me all her riches,
Shattered – my head hung low
Memories stored in Niches
Niches of my shaken mind
In fragments – a kalediscope
Of the care she gave to bind
Us for ever without a rope

No shackles to hold us were used
No threats of dire consequences
No attempt to leave us confused
No slaps to bring us to our senses
Her riches were not stores of gold
Or mansions built of marble and jade
Nor valued antiques one could hold
Nor bank accounts which bankers made
They were the treasures of her mind
Memories she kept to share some day
Stored in little diaries she would bind
To help us read and find our way
Through this maze we call our lives
Where faith and love are hard to find
Where husbands leave their caring wives
Wives have changed their tone of mind
Where children leave parents for money
Where mammon has the field to play
Where words said are coated with honey
Where to hear them we have to pay
Pay with the sacrifice of our love
Pay with sacrifice or all our peace
Pay by raising our hands to him above
To save us from them who fleece
No-my Aunt left us the meaning of “Love”
And the meaning of the word “Care”
She left for us her memories glove
To shield us always – every where
And remind us of the battles fought
To keep us sheltered from any harm
And in harms net we were never caught
Because of her steady caring arm
She left us the treasure of eternal joy
In the small things found in this world
The little girls skip or the prance of a boy
The sound of laughter into the wind hurled
She left us a vision of brotherhood
Of a paradise of winged angel’s song
Of dancing as much as we ever could
Of a shining future with music all along
That was how best my aunt can I describe
And the precious gifts she left for us all
Treasures with which us she would bribe
To always keep our footsteps in truth’s Hall !
Deepak Menon
Dehradun, India, 20th April 2006
PS :- Your letter sent to me was :-
From: “p_and_q”

Date: Thu, 20 Apr 2006 01:45:16 -0000
Subject: [poetrywriters] Finding my long lost poem
“My Aunt she died a month ago,
And left me all her riches,……
Can any one complete it or point me to
the right author, book or URL


April 22, 2006
Were I – the song sung by my love
I would soar to the skies all alone
Were I – the music played by my love
The world would kneel before my throne
But were I – both the music and the song
I would be sung by the forest leaves
And the wind would whistle all along
When my love passed under the eaves
Deepak Menon
20th April 2006


April 20, 2006

This is an Excerpt from Douglas Adams Book ………..

“I think,” said Ford in a tone of voice which Arthur by now
recognized as one which presaged something utterly unintelligible,
“that there’s an SEP over there.”
He pointed.
Curiously enough, the direction he pointed in was not the one in which
he was looking. Arthur looked in the one direction, which was towards
the sight-screens, and in the other which was at the field of play.
He nodded,
he shrugged. He shrugged again.
“A what?” he said.
“An SEP.”
“An S …?”
“… EP.”
“And what’s that?”
“Somebody Else’s Problem.”
“Ah, good,” said Arthur and relaxed. He had no idea what all
that was about, but at least it seemed to be over. It wasn’t.
“Over there,” said Ford, again pointing at the sight-screens
and looking at the pitch.
“Where?” said Arthur.
“There!” said Ford.
“I see,” said Arthur, who didn’t.
“You do?” said Ford.
“What?” said Arthur.
“Can you see,” said Ford patiently, “the SEP?”
“I thought you said that was somebody else’s problem.”
“That’s right.”
Arthur nodded slowly, carefully and with an air of immense
“And I want to know,” said Ford, “if you can see it.”
“You do?”
“What,” said Arthur, “does it look like?”
“Well, how should I know, you fool?” shouted Ford. “If you can
see it, you tell me.”
Arthur experienced that dull throbbing sensation just behind
the temples which was a hallmark of so many of his
conversations with Ford! His brain lurked like a frightened puppy
in its kennel. Ford took him by the arm.
“An SEP,” he said, “is something that we can’t see, or don’t see,
or our brain doesn’t let us see, because we think that it’s somebody
else’s problem. That’s what SEP means. Somebody Else’s Problem. T
he brain just edits it out, it’s like a blind spot. If you look at it directly
you won’t see it unless you know precisely what it is. Your only hope

is to catch it by surprise out of the corner of your eye.”
“Ah,” said Arthur, “then that’s why …”
“Yes,” said Ford, who knew what Arthur was going to say.
“… you’ve been jumping up and …”
“… down, and blinking …”
“… and …”
“I think you’ve got the message.”
“I can see it,” said Arthur, “it’s a spaceship.”
From Life, the Universe, and Everything by Douglas Adams

I posted this poem long ago on the great site of Lucius Furius

April 18, 2006
The City
by Deepak Menon
Mud splatters my bare feet
Stars shine in darkened skies
As I walk to where we used to meet
The night echoes some waif’s cries.
I see the pavements lumpy with logs
Huddled against the cold night chill
Humanity interspersed with dogs
Carrion awaiting vultures’ will
The stench of decay fills my soul
Like tangible shadows invading me
Questions whirl; I approach my goal
The now solitary Tamarind Tree
Dim memories of a long forgotten grove
Of verdant sunlit waving leaves
Fleet through my mind; my eyes rove
For the spot, which still its magic weaves
My feet softly caress the hallowed soil
As they have done these many years
Then must I return to again toil
To forget your memory through tears
And become one with the City for another night
And live with the City through another day
The City where my kin are common sight
The City that gives and then takes away.
Copyright © Deepak Menon (“The City” is part
of a collection of poems from my third volume
of poetry entitled “A Lingering Fragrance….”.
“The City” was first published on my (now defunct)
Tamam Shudh: Poems of Passion website.
Also posted on the site of Lucious

A painting of an African Woman by Deepak Menon

April 13, 2006
Nothing in life is easy
and painting this wonderful woman
was certainly not easy

A poem I wrote spontaneously for the birthday of the child of an unknown person I met on the net in a chat room

April 6, 2006
Richard of Eternal Love

A lion was born one day long ago
Sent to this earth as a gift long ago
A gift of the God’s to teach all the world
All about bravery whose flag he unfurled

When stepped he on earth he felt unafraid
For no reason had he – of love was he made
His eyes were bright with all of life’s joys
His world was filled with enchanted toys

His skin was like ivory – soft and white
His face was a beacon of silvery light
His heart was of gold warm and aglow
His mind was a fount of wisdom’s flow

This little creature so precious and true
Was the magnet to which all hearts flew
And little Richard – That was his name
Was born under a star – the star of fame.

Destined is he to fly to the far away stars
And he shall be – garlanded with flowers
And the entire world shall his praises sing
For he is Richard – of hearts – the King.

With love
For your birthday