Thursday, June 18, 2015

FACEBOOK CELEBRITY


FACEBOOK CELEBRITY

You are a Facebook celebrity
Posting selfies with alacrity
By stony emoticon you show your emotion
Your smile is put on, a mere ornamentation.

You have been to Amsterdam, London, and Paris
Your pictures are posters of nature and bliss
Your man is rich, your home is luxurious
He is obedient, too, as are your curs.

You add and delete friends without mercy
Anyone who upsets you will have no clemency
You “like” a lot of good things, I guess
Your comments are generous, sans much fuss.

You support causes, share things, sign petition
Without a moment of doubt or hesitation
Your friends love you, though be careful
A pervert hides among those faces beautiful.

Your poems are succinct, essays are dull
But your comments sections are always full
Indeed, you are a Facebook celebrity
You can now say that with all sincerity.


© June 2015

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

A DOG’S DEATH



A dog died this afternoon; since ages they have died
No inquest, no investigation, or, wreaths laid
Unsung, unlamented, but for few barking mongrels
His funereal goodbye without much fuss or laurels.

They say you are man’s best friend, but that’s a lie
You are born to guard, give company, and a trophy be
When the bark has no bite they discard you as old
No way would they keep a mangy dog, heavens forbid.

They say dogs don’t deserve rites in a h’ble world
A dog is but a dog it feels no heat or cold
It can survive on waste and go to sleep whenever
It can lie anywhere in sweltering heat, rain, or, wherever.

Why do you sleep during day and howl and bark at night?
Why are your internecine battles always fought out of sight?
“Bad Dog”, “Mad Dog”, “Sad Dog”, “Dead Dog”, they say
Without a care for your feelings, respect, I say.

Nocturnal beings, disturbers of sleep, watch dog
Why did you die under the car’s wheel, you poor sod?
You could have died a better death, had you been abroad
Here you are a “stray” into nobody’s home allowed.

I badly need a dog to take away my loneliness
How could I have adopted you in my fecklessness?
Dogs are expensive to buy and keep these days
This I can’t do unless I mend my errant ways.
Goodbye dog, be well in dog’s hell, goodbye forever!





Tuesday, January 06, 2015

The Pariah Dog

The Pariah Dog

I don’t want to be your pariah dog
Or, for that matter, your sacrificial hog.

All I want from you is some respect
Of a clean grown-up kind and aspect.

No, I don’t want your stale bread crumbs
One of the many you cast to your chums.

No, I can’t go everywhere to please you
Late nights, award nights, party nights, too.

I want to be a free bird not a pariah
I want you to know that, now, yes suh!

If you don’t want me around just say so
I will only be too glad to disappear, to go.

I don’t want to be your pariah dog
No, it won’t look good on my daily blog.

(A song in Soul, Rhythm, and Blues (SR&B) Style)

Saturday, January 03, 2015

FOR YOU SOMAN, R.I.P.

For a cousin brother who died recently:
FOR YOU SOMAN, R.I.P.
In a ward smelling of imminent death
You died; the doctors gave up hope
I am devastated, broken, brother
It could have been my tormented soul instead
God took you, the wrong man, and left me here.
All the days we played in the courtyard
Spent time together talking nonsense
Are those days gone and buried forever?
Will there be no repeats of those times?
We grew families, put food on tables
Working extra hours to pay the loans
Neglecting ourselves, for our wives and children
Till wrinkles, grey hair reminded us of time running out.
I was shocked to see you on the hospital bed
Looking a pale grey shadow of your self
Doctors said the disease has claimed you
And it’s today, maybe, tomorrow, can’t say.
You, brother, were a heavenly beam of light
Here on earth for infinitesimal time
Here we met in the interregnum of birth and death
And then you faded away and died.
Soman, my brother, rest in peace.

Thursday, January 01, 2015

A Happy New Year!


A Happy New Year!

(A Song to be sung Dylan style to the strumming of a guitar.)

For the people of Syria and Iraq displaced by war
A Happy New Year!

For the families of people who lost their lives aboard AirAsia QZ8501
A Happy New Year!

For the 141 military-school children, murdered in Peshawar
A Happy New Year!

For the hundreds who lost their lives and possession in floods in Kashmir
A Happy New year!

For the family of Michael Brown, killed by police in Ferguson
A Happy New Year!

For family of Steven Sotloff and Jim Foley killed by extremists in Syria
A Happy New Year!

For the homeless, old, starving, and dying without caregivers
A Happy New Year!

For the people of Ukraine trying not to let their country be split in two
A Happy New Year!

For the girls kidnapped and raped by extremists in Nigeria
A Happy New Year!

For the slaving construction labourers in the deserts of Arabia
A Happy New Year!

For sick people and people undergoing life-saving surgery in hospitals
A Happy New Year!

May the New Year be one of hope, caring, giving, compassion, and faith
A Happy New Year to you all!

Thursday, December 11, 2014

PAIN



I can smile when I am in pain
I can’t laugh; not even feign
Pain is a temporary feeling,
It’s nothing but a transitioning,
From a mental state of stasis
To one of instant catharsis.

What’s a lover’s pain?
But a feeling someone can’t contain.
Pain is eternal, it has no limit
I can’t ever recall being without it
When I was an errant fool in school
Even in my flighty youth trying to be cool.

Pain devastates, leaves our life in shambles
As I grow old and as my defence crumbles
I wonder, “Was there a day that went by,
Without the pain that we endure nightly
Be it in a hospital’s operating table
Or, in pursuit of this literary dream, so noble?”

I can smile when I am in pain
But I can’t laugh; not even feign.

Friday, February 14, 2014

Dust



Dust I must, but I can’t leave it to rest
Despondent dust: it's your flaky feel I detest
They hang in cobwebs, in corners, and book cases
Little nooks, crannies, and unsuspecting places.

I get tired of this dusting and say, “oh well,”
Uninvited guests, please spare my clothes if you will
Go hang somewhere but not on my wall
If I find you someplace I'd sweep till you fall.

Dust I must, because I am allergic
Even if, perchance, it'd make me neurotic
Oh! Leave my books alone, I have just dusted them
What use are dust jackets? Thickly coated their spines become?

Up here, up there, this dust tires me, oh, they kill
Dusting all the time, agreed, is a matter of skill
Watch me do it with a duster and broom in hand
Till my house is clean; able for next the onslaught to withstand.