Some say life makes no greater sense
Except the mere survival
The others take life as a chance
To defeat their worst rivals
Camus saw life's absurdity
Epicurus taught pleasures
Gods claim life is a moral duty
To get the paid off measure
What’s life for us, my darling love?
I’d say to me it’s clear
That none I mentioned here above
Can cover what we hear
In singing of the morning birds
And what we chat of over tea
Cannot relate to the absurd
And neither to the duty..
They said the youths
Are leaders of tomorrow
That we're the future
In a system we're not featured
Where the youths are not in the picture
That's why they never nurture us
They always acting like vulture
Giving us mental and emotional torture.
How would the youths
Partake in a system
That doesn't recognize them
Even to socialize is now a crime
Freedom of speech and movement
Which is our fundamental human rights
We've been denied, due to their insecurities.
They're brutalizing us
Traumatizing us
Same people
That is supposed to protect us
Are the ones killing us
Inputting pains and fears in us
Just to sustain and maintain their negligence.
A man got shunned from a haven
The host made rules that were craven.
Peers banned his prize joke
for fear of the woke
Proud noses were pecked by his raven.
Absurdity
tries and mostly
fails to
tear open the
grip of
linearity
of separation
as the
overwhelmingly
favorite perspective~
the perspective of
the suffering
seeker~~
Blooms that I see today fade the next day.
Green leaves turn yellow. They dwindle and fall.
Fruits that are ripe fruitlessly find decay.
Nature stands alert to an unknown call.
The flora and fauna feel paranoid.
Curiously, creatures here cogitate.
By expirations, nature is annoyed.
Every being confronts the games of fate.
I search for the sense of my existence.
What's the purpose of my life here on earth?
Against aches, I've my innate resistance.
Will there be, after this life, a rebirth?
Where, when all is said and done, will I go?
Like dried leaves, with the wind, will my soul flow?
I was drenched in black water,
Yet, it looked as though I were dried out.
I stood before a lighthouse,
Yet, remained unseen.
Gazing into the sea’s blackness,
The highest tides forever circled me.
My eyes could find no anchor,
As my dark hands sailed towards the farthest shore.
My home, too, was cloaked in shadow;
Something unseen, yet present, walked with me there.
The map and the wanderer within me never agreed.
Colours were but drifting sailors in my life’s vast sea.
Different souls sail different paths,
Tides come and go.
Memoirs float like driftwood.
Something vast yet fragile appears near the stones.
My grave is smaller than the stones,
Its epitaph; empty and black.
I performed on countless beaches,
Yet, nothing remains visible on this blackest shore.
Evilly absurd,
Bombing lives doesn’t win peace;
Just wishful power:-
War and peace are antonyms.
You can’t make them synonyms:-
War can not bring peace,
Just collateral damage,
And high death rates:-
Peace comes with labors of love,
Nourished by God’s healing grace:-
War only knows hate,
Bombing homes, schools, and churches,
Filled with peaceful lives:-
When will this world ever be
A world rooted in love’s peace?!
It is the world of Shiva and Shaitan
It is the world of Krishna and Kant
Devi on Nandi holding Demon and Son
Devotees, Deities, Ash, Claps and Fun
Fragile girl carrying child in her arm's
Not mother but a sister’s virgin palms
To Die for him but not a bruise to touch
Just Bottom pinching nothing too much
Anguish in her arms to shut the door
Hammer or Paedo, they break the core
Unreal city under brown fog of cold dawn
Slogans, Sighs where savage zombie born
Cow with a nose grip lost her way
Is she mute or has nothing to say?
Another one eating her own skin
Is there Anyone left? kith or a kin
Her body is torn open with the blood
No milk, No Calf. Here screams flood.
frail pedicels fail
when buds burst into blossoms ~
tempest-toss of times
The other night
Visiting in a dream a foreign land
We waited in expectation
The arrival of a group of alien dignitaries
Somehow involved in guiding the culture.
When they approached across the sound
In a dark and rough hand-hewn canoe
I ran out to take pictures
Only to find a half dozen or so headless chickens
Standing patiently in their effortlessly gliding craft.
Superior alien advisors in the form
Of small dark brown headless chickens,
Baffling for sure,
And frustrating when I couldn’t get any pictures…
A sure sign of dreaming or just a block by aliens.
Yet the humor of the moment didn’t escape me
As I turned to tell another baffled guy
To look up Mike The Headless Chicken
A real thing that survived almost two years
With only a brainstem.
Which provides some clue I guess
To the symbol of superior beings without heads
And thus complicating brains
Dark and primitive in their dugout
And yet still, within the absurdity of it all, superior.
(11/20/24)
Alma is back on BBC
with tales of eccentricity
even the critics said it’s good
they’re calling Bolton, "Brollywood"
claiming it's worth the licence fee
It's warmth is positivity
facing life and absurdity
in ways no-one else, would or could
Alma is back
BAFTA award winning TV
based on the writers family
Willan, she's our Walters and Wood
champions the misunderstood
if you catch it, then you will see
Alma is back.
Jasper uses the words absurd and whimsy as if they are synonyms
They are not the same to me, I say to him.
Silliness, craziness and idiocy is not whimsy.
Whimsy is imagination, playing, having fun, laughing, loving.
Jasper begins to whisper about me.
I have dog ears, and I do not like what he says.
So, I whimsically bite him.
HELLO SO CALLED FREE WORLD.!! Canada is a
Crown country...So is Australia..For the time being!
Melbourne was put under house arrest for twelve
Months..! For no crime whatsoever..Think on this!
Where is the fair governance?? Is there a valid one?
In Britain the originator of colonial law, Caroline
Farrow is under survaillance for speaking her thought
Jordan Peterson is being shoehorned into a programme
Of so called ( re education ) these people don't know
One another I presume.? What are we witnessing in
The case of the large sized lady shown in sports illustrated
What are we suposed to gather ? Its a sports publication
Are they a beauty magazine? Well I suppose in academic
Summation yes.' As you need a slim and resiliant body
To compete athletically..Yes?? So sports oriented peiople
Would intuitivally think a more leaner body more attractive
To compete, that then affects perception overall, whether
I or whoever sees the wider senario of beauty is not relative
In this context.! Which brings us too, why this cover page
In a sports oriented publication? Or was it just an entrappment ploy.? In both cases what is going on.?
You claim I am equal to you, and you to me
Are you blind as a bat? Can't you see?
You're a man from your head to your toe
I'm a girl, now a woman, from the very get-go
A man's muscles ripple under your clothes
Even you suspect what every sane person knows
It will never be fair, just because you think you're female
that we non-trans women athletes are left to fail
Lo, Meursault, the hero, of the novel, 'the outsider',
Is spun by absurdity, like the web of a spider.
Neither religion nor society does affect him,
Nor does anything like Faith and Hope make him sing a hymn.
Takes truths compatible like peanut, jelly, or butter,
Or simply interchangeable like a knife or cutter...
He admits his widowed mother in a home for the aged,
When she seeks his filial fondness he's fiercely enraged.
His mother's demise, like an orphan, does not affect him,
Not mourning for her, with his girlfriend, he enjoys a swim.
He's not sad, about murdering someone, for no reason,
His darling finds another; he doesn't feel her act treason.
He spends his time in prison working, eating, and sleeping,
He lives like a wooden log; no system; no timekeeping.
He takes his capital punishment too, just like a feast,
One could see his existence ending like that of a beast...!
08 May 2023
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