Featured post

hell

Laplanders regard with dread and awe-the icy howling wind- the wiiliwaw;

To Northern races like the eskimos, Hell is a place of eternal snows.

Tropical tribes fear the heat and light- their Hell is a place where fires burn bright.

I pondered over this tangled knot, was Hell frozen over or burning hot?

Why should we fear the afterlife ;think it an extension of fear and strife

If it is true that the soul is set free  to adventure into eternity?

Advertisements

humanity’s roots

Tall they stood on either side
Their heads raised proud and green
Along the banks of the rivulet
But deep underground, unseen
Their roots were tangled, intertwined
And the stream flowed in between.
The river wore it’s bed away
It’s banks became canyon walls
And as lower sank the waters
Up rose a living bridge .
When shall our turbulent wars subside
Our shared roots come to light,
To form a bridge between man and man
Unbreakable links forged tight?

https://goo.gl/images/OKZMww

Space to grow

Where is the space to grow, just to be,

When screens take over the nursery?

Nascent minds bombarded with infotainment.

Not left to wonder, to interpret the world

In different ways,

Racing on a treadmill;

Taught set rhymes and patterns—-

Strapped into a rear facing car seat.

Journeying between daycare,classes and home.

No view from the windows,

No concept

Of coasting along in neutral,

Of gears spinning idly.

Of free open spaces filled with flowers.

And (safety paramount), cocooned in cotton.

Can minds thus stunted appreciate diversity

Or create original works?

unsplitting the atom and all

Birthed from the sun’s fiery corona

They set out at an incredible pace

Photons waltzing in synchronized waves

Across millions of miles of space.

A few encounter frail raindrops

In Earth’s atmospheric haze

And are split into divergent wavelengths

To go their separate ways.

Am I but a raindrop that I split all I see

Religion, science,spirituality.

But space and time do curve and bend

And at the beginning is the end

Where all things come together and fuse again——

White light and the sciences: but my brain

Can only dissect, has not grown enough to synthesize

Which is why only the most developed, the very wise

Among our scientists are just beginning

To postulate a Unified Theory of Everything!

Sight

Blind was the beggar seated behind

The bustle and the fuss,

Men checking watches, tapping toes,

Waiting for their bus.

Forwarding news on cellphones

They had no time to spare

For a small voice that said”Excuse me”

A schoolgirl with a careworn air.

The beggar tiptapped his way

Around the busy bus stand,

“Take this and go to school, child”,

And he put some coins into her hand.

And she, who had lost her bus-fare

Wondered who had the keenest sight–

The insensitive office goers

Or he– who’d responded to her plight?

Reflection

My attention span is short, I am easily bored,

In my high chair with its safety strap;

My world comprises home and daycare—

And everywhere,

I’m fed on puréed food and pap!

I see myself reflected in my father’s eyes

As he relaxes in his own armchair,

Imbibing predigested news and prejudiced views

And I think I would not care

To spend thirty years to take the ten baby steps

Which took him from here to there!

Wordy, wordy!

I don’t know why and cannot suppose

Why I’m unable to be descriptive, verbose,

Play with a myriad words, artistically expose

The beauty of language, like the purveyors of prose.

I tend to condense, distil and shrink

Every dream and idea, every thought that I think —

To shining pinpoints like bright stars that blink

I laugh, a cosmic jester, who, with a random link,

Creates a constellation that trembles on the brink

And turns into a mythical monster
–And I do it with pen and ink!

I don’t wonder that you prefer to open your door

To turn to novels and biographies and romances, a store

Of clarity, lucid description, maybe even dogma,

Rather than try to decipher the enigma

Of a poet’s verse!

Rabbit, run!

I am so scared of man’s humanity,

That if I see you before you see me,

I’ll be off with my hind legs thumping fright,

Be off , my bob tail flashing white.

In your labs suffer so many of my kind—

Killed by new drugs, by cosmetics gone blind.

When bio- warfare was a science fictional wonder

I was already a victim of myxomatosis down under!

And now my long ears have caught the echoes of that

Last war by men on animal habitat.

Should we now go extinct to end the man-animal strife?

Or live on in vain hope of a better life?