Daniel Trevelyn Joseph

Daniel Trevelyn Joseph Poems

It was Vidwans who wrote to me
When I was Joint Secretary Planning Department
Referring to Kahlil Gibran’s
Being nonplussed on somebody

Firm, shapely, level-looking
Great assets of his girl-wife
Making him proud of the assets,
Loosening tied up movable property,

I have crossed sixty, attention is failing.
Lights are fading, recognition decreases,
I feel almost unwanted now and then.


An angel on earth! Pah, where are they?
They are fairy-tales or christmas carols:
No evidence, not there: but only priests'
Holy men's way of cheering and cheating.

Six, seven books half-read are open,
Still I started what courier just gave
A bilingual poetry book by T P Rajeevan.

I cry tears of bitter pain and sorrow:
One says you write prose and claim it is verse,
The other asks, is it only autobiography?
And one more accuses me of just recording

I am polite, listen to others,
Keep quiet, and carry out instructions;
I fall into one trap, ignored as ineffective.

It is a pleasure to be in a car
Where the driver has no ego,
Not against the other fellow
Not giving way, or brushing you past,

Bright, sunny, cool morning with no breeze
Above the blue, nirmal sky, not a bit cloudy,
Enclosed with buildings except on one side,
For green foliage looks peeps into the pool,

Every time I feel useless
Or life is purposeless
Should think that it is an invite
To meditate, try Nirvana.

It is like taking a walk
In a forest by the riverside
And keeping a lookout for it,
For anything worth picking up

By the time we reach
The stage to ask this question
We have passed a few years on earth:
We have studied, acquired some skills,


Like magic balls, words spring up
From nowhere, bouncing
From mysterious utter darkness inside;
Only after climbing above inner surface,

Like the river in Kubla Khan,
Gushing forth,
From inside it arises
Beseeching to be put out

My son-in-law who now has moved to Delhi,
Comes to Mumbai and goes back
Same day with a street dog
Buying for it an AC first class ticket

Here lies one who bore Life’s joys and pains,
Failures and successes equally or tried to;

Who is grateful for his life, wife Tilaka, daughter Joti,

Looked out of the window
Up in the sky, the pariah kite
Was hovering, standing a fitter
Description: then moved sideways.

I go quiet mostly in a party,
Don’t speak, unless with women.
Persons with sense of humour,
Knowledge, fund of anecdotes


In India, opium is the Hindi film music
And songs, and not religion, not at all:
Hindi film music is just on, day and night
At home, in public, and private functions.

Saw the crane on the tree
At eye level towards Guru Nanak hospital
So, white even Joti and Tilla commented:
I felt that despite the mud

Daniel Trevelyn Joseph Biography

born in tuticorin, brought up in madurai mostly but studied all over tamilnadu, parents were poor but simple and straight. was eldest of four siblings, and heavy as a capricorn, born on the darkest day of the year 21 december 1945. studied english literature, and taught english for two years. got into ias, allotted to maharashtra cadre, and worked in government till some time ago. since august 2007, retired and working with some private companies in one or other capacity. Used to write poetry (should say, verse?) in 1969, in 1972, then in 1996-97, and now took up in early 2008. feel worried to tell others about this writing but this site I liked to refer to for getting some classical bit or other, and then got tempted to upload...and now it has been going on for a few months. like to read gita, zen, osho, tao and matters which treat with things not material. wife and daughter dont think much of either what I write or read...and others' opinion does not matter much I would say if you dont mind! i am bald and bearded, and beard is gray except for black patch around the mouth! Baldness is complete, not one hair. you have to go round me to the back to see some hair on the back of my head!)

The Best Poem Of Daniel Trevelyn Joseph

Kahlil Gibran

It was Vidwans who wrote to me
When I was Joint Secretary Planning Department
Referring to Kahlil Gibran’s
Being nonplussed on somebody
In the marketplace
Asking him, “Who are you? ”
That was 26 years ago.

It took me a few more years
To wander along to Tiruvannamalai
With Babu my brother-in-law
And start reading Ramana Maharshi
And his japa, “Who am I? ”

An onion peeled to nothing,
Says the rationalist:
Reach Nothing which is Everything,
Says Osho.
Reading Cordelia’s Nothing
Overwhelmed by the play
I agree blossoming tragically
Into everything.

Man is not the final measure
Though physically his mind is -
Break through mind-atmosphere
Leads into infinite space
And peace.

D T Joseph

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