A Tale of Two French Mathematicians

( Mechain et Delambre )


Under the aegis of science as deity

they sought to create

a new church and laity,

replacing local customary

ancient measures and weights

they did away with clocks

calendars and all of the dates;

Mechain et Delambre

set out on their stroll

to measure the distance

from Equator to Pole:

one ten-millionth

of the length of the Meridian

was supposed to establish

the Metre as quotidian:

1792 Revolution in the air

beset the journeys

of this empirical pair,

on their quest for

the measure of all things

so as to make uniform

the length of all strings.


There is too much in the closet
for me to handle ,
assorted moods ,
flairs of red white and blue
darting wildly at me
if I dare to open ,
peeping through keyhole
forcing it shut ,
tumbling down and climbing up
from bottom rack
to the upper deck ,
breathing free
then diving back ,
in to the bundles
of nerves wired and raw ,
jumble mumble
roll and tumble ,
all haywire
desire for symphony ,
notes and tunes
just a cacophony ,
There is too much in the closet
for me to handle
love , pain and ecstasy ,
I dare not open ,
lest it escapes in to void….
my love my heart
stay safe in my closet ..
©Dr. Swati A Gadgil , All Rights Reserved .

Nimble footfalls

I wonder what happy thoughts ricocheted in those gilded corridors,
when we stumbled through life, playing cross and noughts.
The rusted corridors of time still roar
with those scattered notes of that juvenile rhyme,
sailing along in joyous paper boats,
bobbing up and down
searching for the lost notes of that full song
in the waltzing breeze.

Many a tiny note had hit a monarch butterfly,
who stopped in mid-air, her wing throbbing,
the vibrant note bobbing up and down
perched on her flamboyant wing.

Hear, o hear that foaming cascade of nimble footfalls?
Sparkling and tantalizing;
with a thimble full of wants, a pocket full of pebbles ,
a high-pitched treble and a mouthful of full-throated guffaws,
those juvenile jeers and taunts , making and breaking laws.

“Sing, Baby sing”, chorused the peer group,
trooping towards the rabbit hole from where the rabbit fled
on hearing the thundering feet,
blundering towards its sanctum sanctorum.
Unfazed, we continued to hum, banging, clanging,
dangling and hanging from those trees of childhood,
their leaves crackling with anxiety.
Do they still crackle as they crackled then,
when we were footloose and fancy free.
And ah, so unshackled!

Saturday Zen

Nine hours sleep
Feeling refresh with a relax mind
The sun smiles as I smile back at the day

Late afternoon I woke
Taken a cold shower
Felt the water against my skin
Feeling refresh and relax

Four in the afternoon came
I cooked
I fried and stirred
Opened the lid
The rice is ready

The kettle whistles
I pour some hot water in my cup
The aroma of good coffee

Two bananas and a cup of coffee

I eat and drink
Relaxing and Zen

I finished my coffee
I brushed my teeth
My mouth felt refresh
I smiled as I climbed up the stairs

I turned on the lights
It’s six in the evening
I sat on my chair
I wrote my poetry

I watched television
I’m waiting for midnight
After Six hours of waiting
Now I can post my poetry



This is the seventh in a planned series of occasional re-postings from the archived works of various authors of the poetic treasures that were posted at the dawn of Destiny Poets. This from September 5th.  2011 is a fine example of this author’s inimitable poetic acumen.

A Certain Glow


along with every step of our journey in life,
we pick every bits and piece of treasured moments…
kept and stored within the deepest part of our heart
every now and then we look back with a certain glow,
a certain smile on our lips and a sparkle in our eyes

our existence is never a bed of roses in a velvety petal
there were thorns that can make us bleed and feel pain
nor would it be a calming sea to enjoy the windy breeze
waves could come rushing into the shore and whimpering
none can tell the tales of burdens that life can tag along

so we walk on and garner those scattered pieces of joy
go ahead onward to that destined shore of new hope
from a glimpse of the light that cast our shadows behind
with our footsteps as we flap our wings to soon leave
and meet the foremost horizon that awaits the dawning

finding that certain glow fulfilling the dreams we hold on
from the mysteries of life into the mystic enchantments
where the rainbow’s end be found with lights and colors
that overcast on the blues and the blackness of the dark
so the silent whispers of the heart are heard once again

let the melody of the sirens song allured not of death
but instill life anew, on a newborn majestic glow of morn
upon this rock on the pearly shore, our voice shall rise
to tell the world the tales of our life from gloom to bloom
let there be the mirth in every corner with a certain glowNo automatic alt text available.

Wave by Wave

I could find you
on transcient waves –
taking heave of your beat
and, many occasions pass
plethora of my wakeful dreams
That you are here
to drench me, by

And, there is no granite marble
for an epitaph
Nor greater pyre
for a sandle burn
That you are here, wonton
to my dreams
Dying in all transitoriness
Wave by wave, into me