Articles, Topics, poetry for students

It's there within It's not at all unreachable It's a pleasure within reach That place with a Music of its own It's visible with eyes closed It's audible with ears at rest It's felt when everything else ceases to be felt That place with a Music of its own It's an unconscious effort It's an unforced willingness It's a short surrender That takes you there That place with a music of its own It's not at all drifting away from where you are It's not at all longing long to hear the notes It's very much here and now That place with a Music of its own It's you and me It's we all, the mystics Who compose the music Our heart is That place with a music of its own

This Age of Staggered Man Needs a timely thought The Invincible Destiny is hovering over head Why the youth is being wasted O'er things which are dead? The invisible burden over the shoulders Of this feeble 'hollow man'of Eliot Is too tremendous to tread Steadily on the Treacherous Terrain Would all the thinking go in vain? The heart of a poet is wrenched With the drastically devastating domain Of Mindless Mechanism taking over Before it blasts the Blessings Would it be checked and harnessed?