Officer Stupido Fail!!!!!

I got quite a few great comments on detective tremble bones and that is what inspired me to make another poem on a character I made up myself and if you read on it is bound to be cracking.

Well guys I'm back, to tell another ridonculuos tale,

Of Tremble Bones assistant, Officer Stupido Fail.

Well as the name says it, he wasn't quite that wise,

And from the position of an officer he couldn't seem to rise.

There wasn't one task that he could do,

Without breaking his back or catching the flu.

And being an officer I don't know how he landed up in jail,

It must be another most terrible fail.

He's 42 and he lives all alone,

He acts like a child even though he is grown.

He wants his candy every once in a while,

And to get it will run more than a mile.

He eats all his food in a gulp and slurp,

And doesn't forget to leave a courteous burp!!

Well that explains why he's 500 pounds,

And weighs as much as 45 hounds!!

Detective and officer make quite a pair,

One is too scared and One doesn't care.

They are never able to accomplish a task,

Or answer a question which you ask.

Well guys that's the end of  another ridonculuos tale,

Of Tremble Bones assistant, Officer Stupido Fail.

Well as the name says it, he wasn't quite that wise,

And from the position of an officer he couldn't seem to rise.

-Parth Vora

LIFE IN THE HILLS

Hey everyone, I am trying out something new after observing the wonders of natures. Below are interpretive Haikus on Shimla/Mashobra, inspired by the time I spent there for my Christmas holiday.

Shimla, where we learn.

snow is like chance, grab it for,

it will melt, melt soon.

- Parth  Vora

Snow rabidly vanishing from our branch of life

Life, covered with snow,

Shows that time will bring sorrows.

But the Sun guides us.

- Parth Vora

The Sun paving a path out of sorrowful snow

Who Am I?

 This poem is a depiction of todays judgemental world. How a small sentence of discrimination can have a gargantuan impact on an individual. It is what I notice around me, and I hope to help these struggling individuals who have been cast into the shadows and not accepted for who they are. For they are miniature Suns waiting for their chance to rise.

Who am I? This is a question I frequently ask myself,

 Am I a boon, a bane or a disgrace?

Am I just an insignificant specimen, sitting on the shelf?

Being judged solely by my face.

Who am I? In this world of belligerent men,

Am I a bag, a labeled piece of cloth?

Thrown into the dustbin if I dare to peek out from my den,

Branded into a category, segregated into cool or goth.

Who am I?  In this classroom of many a pupil,

Who care less about the boy struggling at the back of this class,

The one who is ignored, and sits in solitude by the window sill

That being the only reason he doesn't pass.

Who am I? in this world of constant competition,

Am I the one to scared to take part?

Forgotten all my potential and ambition,

Scared to be humiliated, scared to my heart.

Who am I? In this world of constant worry,

What did I do wrong?

Have I forgotten happiness in this furious flurry?

Have I lost my voice and my passionate song?

NO I HAVE NOT, I STIIL ENTER WITH A BAM,

EVEN IF I AM NOT THE SAME,

I AM PROUD OF WHO I AM,

IN THIS WORLD NOTHING CAN CEASE MY FLAME.

- Parth Vora 

The Twisted Path Of Life

This poem is inspired by an original Edgar Allen Poe piece. I took upon the style of metaphorical and philosophical writing to interpret life, its ups and downs. How emotion and energy plays a huge role in our lives and how we must get up if we fall. How worry and strife can make you fumble but we must overcome this. How in life will get a combination of things good and bad and we must accept them and use them in the best way possible. This is the twisted path of life and after going through the above we must be prepared to walk it another day.

I was walking down that crooked road,

Admiring the towering trees.

When I saw the board

Town of confusing melodies.

That's when I realised when I go this way

It is when I rise and fall, I gain and lose.

I walk down this path every day,

In my mind as I listen to my sorry hues.

It is the path that guides me,

Vexes me with pleasure.

It is the path that gives me,

An unforgettable treasure.

It is the path that haunts me,

with all that's dark in life.

It is the path that reminds me,

Of all my worry and strife.

As I walk this path I fall and tumble,

breaking my bones sometimes.

As I walk this path I stutter and fumble,

As I sing my yearning rhymes.

I learn to get up,

To stand and fight.

I learn to continue,

May I be wrong or right.

I watch perplexed, the trees of emotion,

Swaying with feelings happy and sad,

In my mind causing a commotion,

Reminding me of when I was a weeping lad.

I gaze up at the stars as I walk down this pavement,

Awaiting to be there,

Yearning to forget my resentment,

And let go of any care.

I walk this twisted path of life,

Till I reach home,

Till I let go of all my strife,

And no longer have to roam.

I recall all the obstacles and some good memories,

how I learnt that everything comes with a price to pay,

And with sweets come savouries,

With this I'm ready to walk down that crooked road as arrives the next day.

-parth vora