The lines
After reading
With the wooden pencil
Lining red,
Lining blue
As for good lines
Of thought and expression
So aesthetically beautiful
And so splendid and profound
Where the old reader,
Where those olden books,
Where that sincerity
With the pencil
Writing half-blue and half-red
He used to read and line
The most important lines
And the other wooden pencil
Writing blackly for the common use,
Where that reader
and who there pencilling with a rubber to correct?
And we used to hear from the hamlets,
Thinking about the distant growl and roar
But now the forests brereft of,
Lions and spotted tigers.
.
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After seeing love scenes,
How do they fall in love?
Love in the cinema hall,
The show to start,
The curtain drawn over
And the reel to start.
Some whistling in delight,
Specially the third class-sitting men,
Just before the screen,
As for seeing the heroine.
The hero and the heroine will dance,
Will eye, fall in love at first sight,
Oh, marvellous to hear it,
Love at first glance, my God!
And as thus our love story began it
In the cinema hall,
Ended it there
Dating back to the seventies and the eighties.
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With my mother, father and aunt
And brothers and sisters,
But now live they not,
Just the house is there
But there is none to keep in
And look after it.
Life and its changing times
Not often the same all the time,
What today is with
May not be tomorrow
And above all, this age of displacement
Placing you there where there is none
To be called own,
Distracting and distancing you from
Them for ever,
Never to be united again.
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was something I revelled in.
It gave me time to think
and set my imagination free.
Now as I’ve grown older
and my imagination has stalled,
I crave for company,
but there is no one there.
My mind gets bored
with the simple things
and the boredom makes me tired.
All I do now is want to sleep.
I feel at times
I’m more dead than alive
and crave even a telephone call,
even if it is someone
trying to sell me something
that I do not really want.
I sit for hours
with a single light bulb
just for company.
The friends I used to know
are gone to I know not where.
Where my cup was once overflowing,
it now seems empty with despair.
I crave for company
and the flow of conversation,
but all I have are the shadows on the wall
to keep me company
and they don’t reply to anything I say.
15 August 2011
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Just to see different expressions,
Shown on people’s faces.
Coming close,
To aggravation.
I knew my limitations.
I had gone to school to learn body language.
Interpersonal Communication.
And studying ‘where’ folks’ feelings were.
You know…
Probing from afar.
Seeking to discover…
With just observation.
Who was disturbed…?
Who was emotionally disconnected,
And unnnerved.
And just ‘who’ was crazed?
Living on the edge…
Seeking to escape the maze of life.
Only to discover my own paranoia!
Today,
Few people are trying to hide their disgust!
Some are outright enraged.
With attempts to masquerade an outrage…
Many caring less,
If that it is shown on display!
And I am not quick to agitate…
For experimental purposes.
Not today!
Too many folks have venom in their eyes.
And I’ve learned to do what I’ve been trained to do,
From my early days of schooling.
I either wear my sunshades.
Or talk to myself!
Choosing to fit right in!
But I don’t have to take notes today…
Too much of this ‘stuff’ is up close and vivid!
And I rehearse ducking…
Just in case a wild punch is thrown,
On its way to pay a personal visit!
These are not the times,
For one to blindly unwind…
To share false pretensions.
Too many folks are easily provoked.