manan sheel

Photo by Lucas Kapla on Unsplash

When they stop
showing the films I love,
I will watch the play of colors
in a butterfly’s wings

When they stop
making the songs I love,
I will listen to the call of the cuckoo
to her mate

When they stop
talking in my language,
and when all their words
sound foreign to me,
I will talk to the silence
of this sky

When they stop
being as they were born
to be, I will love that hidden part
of them that although little,
still exists

When they follow
the hatred, and harm
the innocent,
I will take up my sword
and fight till my last,
against them,
each one of them…

© Manan sheel.



Adjust me here,

Cut me there,

Trim me here,

Push me there,

Make me like the masses,

Make me a part of the crowd,

Ask me then, who am I?

A thing sans life,

A God not alive!

PS: Be like the soul’lone creature… special

© Manan sheel.



a poem

Flowers bright in the sun © Manan sheel (author)

Little sparrows greet me
as I come near to poetry

As I believe that words
can create miracles,
And know that thoughts
can create nectar,

A hope that points to meaning,
Arises somewhere in me -

Then, I am a little creator,
O God, you may have created
things far and wide,
and I but very little,
Now, I get to know you
little by little…

© Manan sheel.



a poem in a scene

Flowing bougainvillea

all over a brick wall,

And a little round girl

brown and pink -

Three petals of red-pink

Bougainvillea tucked behind

her one ear,

and three petals behind

the other ear,

and lots of red-pink petals in her

two little podgy hands -

She stood cutely amazed,

I stared in loving wonder!

© Manan sheel.



Little Boats of the Morning © Manan sheel (author)

has brought its messages
in little boats -
Some carry
golden sunlight,
Some carry
colorful flowers

has brought wonders -
Sharp colors of colorful birds,
Patterns of butterflies,
Cries from a million creatures,

And a freshness that will exhaust
soon —
More mornings will come,
more boats will arrive,
Carrying all that is lovely,
and fresh, and beautiful

Take these boats
in your cupped hands,
drink your fill
of the gold in the light,
of the colors in the flowers,
of the music in the birds —

These are, and will be
for you the next day,
These are, and will remain,

Drink, O poet, O lover, O painter,
O common man, Drink,
for these golden gifts are there,
they will remain, but who knows,
whether or not
you will remain!

© Manan sheel.



manan sheel

manan sheel

an artist, poet, singer and engineer. trying to introduce heart into the world of mind.