If you are not,
The singer in me will pass away,
There should be somebody to love.
I want you, I love you,
I love you and like you,
You re the song of my life.
If you are not, how will it the song
Break forth?
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My daughter, what it is in your destiny
I am your fatherBut everything not in the control of mine.How long will you remain with meThat I don’t know.
Sahityacharya, Vyakarnacharya, Jyotishacharya,
Where the acharyas, abbotsPontifical, hypocritical,The great Indian frauds?Not the scholars,But the great proud mastersOf knowledge,Sahityacharya, Vyakarnacharya, JyotishacharyaTo whom all are but fools,Only they the pedantic, scholastic scholarsClassical and rarer.
You could not realize it,
You too are,I too amIrrespective of where you wereBorn,What you hold inAnd how put you,he too is a man,You too are,I too am,Violate it notAs there is nothing greater thanThis humanity and humane feeling,Only human values will go with.
ATMs cashless, moneyless,
Running short, gone dry,Notes not available,The older notes devalued,Scrapped off,People returning home moneylesslyFrom the kiosksAnd thinking going home,When will money come to,When will the new notes,Will be printed and bundledTo be sent to?
She is a playgirl and let her play as this is the age of playing,
Not with the heavy sacks on the backOr the satchel on the shoulders,A small girl,How will she carry along?O, tax not the brain, the mindOf a little heart, a little soul,Beat her not,Try to untax and unburden herFrom the load of life!Hers is an ignorant soul,An innocent mind and mood,Defile it not,Let her play with…
Mungerilal
Wanting to be a heroSearching black gold and black money,Where does it lie inHidden,Earthed?
you, a solitary
lamb on the hill;
me, the wolf
watching, longing
to tear into
your sweet flesh…
but, as i approach,
you change shapes,
become a great bear,
and kill me
with one swipe
of your paw….
leaving my body
bleeding in the
tall damp grasses
that never see…
morning!
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your God preaches success,
lives in sanctuaries of goldwith windows of colored glass.doesnt get His hands dirtyon the down side of town…turns His head from the ugly,from the smell and the stink…walks on the other side of the street.demands sterile cleaness,prefers people of stature!no touching, no feelings…out of control!our God walks the tracksleading the lost home…slept with us under…
Do bullets see colors?
They fall?Do bayonets go to heaven?Does terror ever pray?And rape, some baptism?Do tanks carry Bibles?Is starvation repentance?Do the dead bodies of childrenEver find God?Or is not war…The bread crusts our demonsFeed upon?
your body,
mine butthe logs.your thoughts,the fire,that mine fanwith hunger!your face,the nail drivendeep in the board.my life,the hammer,that strikes…then silence!
self, no self…
the bark know the limb?the limb know the tree?are they seperate, or one?do the roots need a name?the sun and rain ask for thanks?where does one begin,and the other end?is the womb not a grave?does the soul leave the body?does the fire ever go out?or do the embers wait,warm and steady?winter to spring, spring to…
communicate…
a random curse.a book half opened,a candle hid in the shadows.do i dare?do i dare?to take off my clothesand dance?to speak one wordthat really means,really rhymes,the beat of my heart!