To pull legs
And kill the fame
Earned by hard perseverance
This is a jungle of the race of man
Might is right is more right
Than the might of intellect
Attack the weak
Exploit the poor
Like sharks swallow in the little, small and tiny
In the ocean of life
Honesty is a burden
Integrity is a curse
In the market of justness
Value has lost its luster
Here people stripe
To be a perfect liar or hypocrite
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The art of simple talking
And in the process want to learn the art of talkingThen you are requested to sit down beside meOne more request to youPlease do not take me as sageI will not take you eitherSages are all known peopleIf they are not fool then they are misinformed about all thingsThey are confident enough on what concerns…
For the permanent settlement
they made caste system inthe name of religion, inhuman,notorious esotericism, one is bornfrom the mouth and other is fromthe legs, a blot on humanism, classsystem is not less scum of the earth,not a thin chain, both are strongtentacles, good enough to suck bloodthe two Greek bugs fate and luckyou know you are sick, cut the…
Like thousands of people
I am with pen and paperin the field of ideas,the ink of my ‘will’is fighting to leavea mark on the mapof your mind,a thousand miles,untrodenof past and future,a stubborn boy of nineteentrying to impress a sweet sixteen,a cock fight never to end,the new dares to replace the old,a track is not enough to run the…
We sink at night
To answerWhy we are here.We see what comesTo our mindWe never seeWhat we seek not
Paradise lies at the feet of a woman and she is my mother
And the woman on whose head I put my affectionate hand she is my sisterNow, if you insult them or come to deprive them their due rightsThen I am telling you coward, I will tear you apart.
If you are not an autopsy doctor
If you want to know mineThen go to marketOr to a house of a farmerAnd think that I am a watermelonOr a water melon exactly looks like meWhite green from outsideTake it up in your handAnd split it with your old corn knifeLift its heartIt is real red, soft and juicyOozing and tricklingWaiting for your…
hadn’t been
a bonus..
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‘Whatever that you think you lack – give that! ‘ –
like seed that seems inert – yet, not inert;its hidden clock an instrument of grace;the mind, that soil which meanwhile does not know:it neither knows what lies in its embrace,nor its own precious nutrients which growthat seed; nor knows the Sower; nor His grace –until the day that in some Spring of light,I realised: I,…
In the mind, there’s a photo-album
with a question-mark –the stranger’s profile, immortalisedas they waited at the crossing lights;the face crumpled with laughterat the joke you missed, asyou boarded the bus;the first glimpse of a future lover’sstance, expression meaningless:strangely unattractive,insignificant yet remembered;whose photographs are these?it’s as if some other mindborrowed your camera without your consent,to leave taunting hints of timelessness.
As we know
There are known knowns(we all need more love)There are things we know we know(we’re not getting enough of it)We also know(like I know I love you)There are known unknowns(but will it last?)That is to say(according to me, anyway)There are some things(especially about love)we do not know(is there someone better around the corner?)But there are also…
This starry dawn – the wise men yet afar –
Is Mary tired? Or, as one untouched?All birth’s a miracle; not less this one.The cattle have bestirred at hint of morn,the thought of feeding making moist their muzzle;straw is rustling, as they, manger-drawn,find unfamiliar form- so warm – to nuzzle.What were the first words Joseph softly saidto Mary, as dawn broke, this day of days?And…
If he really wants to win this title
is he hungry enough?this is what all those years of traininghave been all about:keep to your race plan,but remember, on the day,anything can happen..they’re off.. he had a good start;now he’s pumping those legs,pushing down with the right leg,then the left leg hard into the ground,then the right leg again…He’ll know that if he doesn’t…
Joy
from poets and divines –it’s fleeting, can’tbe trusted, bringsa downside;better far they sayis bliss: quiet, indifferent,that is, beyond all differencesthat sadden; divisionsthat steal our perfect,timeless, spaceless I guessunitythis poem lookswith joyful hopeor hopeful joywell joy and hopeor would joy or hope be enough,Paul,to a future blisswhich when foundhas no past or future butonly the perfect…