So Instagram is a sham
Everyone seems smitten
With posts about a kitten
Or hosts who hate Britain
Or boasts so badly written
Toasts flam & are all bitten
Goddam is just like spam
Famalam use as a babysitter
Wham bam for any dimwitter
Won’t scram will be a big hitter
Instagram is just glam glitter
Oh please look at me vanity
Narcissist wheeze is insanity
Tease with another profanity
Disease crippling all humanity
Pedants on pews lives fritter
Algorithm queues like twitter
Bottom feeder ruse you critter
Needier travesty tapestry knitter
Greedier fuse lit & now shi*ter
Seedier impropriety just litter
Social media a society splitter
Notoriety trolls scrolls flitter
Anxiety but folks will still titter
Piety for botox you’ll be fitter
Ham it up cash cow AI lie spitter
Kowtow get no views so just bitter
Kapow a scam not some Ashram
Stop cropped photoshopped slop
They cram in a half baked pitta
Instagram is bust and just a sham
"Hear these hibiscus hymns"
of my hopeful heart
"the chorus a poet bleeds..."
in blessed blues
"I kissed an opera octave"
and started a silent symphony
spinning songs and
sculpting stars in syllables
The mellifluous melodies
mastered by my metaphors
tickle tentative tunes
through a tapestry of tales
Echoes of ecstasy
reverberate in every ensemble
The breath of ballads boasts
of beauty unheard
Lilting lullabies
let out love-lit lyrics
On wings of woven words,
I whistle whispers
chanting celestial canticles
of celebration
Heavenly harmony comes alive
in holy happiness
Rhythmic refrains refresh
in rolling resurgence
The pulsing verses
paint pretty emotions
in ink inspired
euphoric euphonies
crafting creative carols
of Christ-centred comfort
The jubilant joy
of the
soul's dance rejuvenates
stringing, singing and shaping
soulful silver notes
In each of these restful poses
To sleeping's own posture
What he boasts in never leaves her;
An eye for fine sculpture.
Idol. Harmlessly inactive!
Disabused of, disturbed!
Through whose then cracks, sounds again for
One with living perturbed.
Nature boasts wondrous things.
Indulge them while you may.
Tour dazzling rainbow rings
peeking from sky's array.
Joyride on angel wings
and twirl with flirty fay.
Today is yours,
and only now.
If you allow.
Men need prove them time and again
In ways that endorse them as men—
It makes MAGA what ‘tis,
As is Trump what he is,
Trying hard to self-inflict pain.
To bald, I sell hell of hair oil,
He often boasts to world on boil,
Miserably to fail
In Mid-east, seeking bail,
Iran refusing to fall in his foil.
_________________________
Happenings | 12.05.2026 | humour, USA, political, Limerick
Note: Many of Trump’s MAGA followers, a faithful lot for long, seem to get increasingly tired of his foolish ventures that only make day-to-day life hell in USA. Trump still persists selling these remedies to them, gulf oil to all others. This little ditty likens them as a cure-all oil. He thinks he‘s a good salesman, but is he?
I love the gentle snowflakes falling
floating down from the sky like feathers
drifting, twirling, dancing, whirling and prancing
blanketing my city magical white
I was born into snow
the wind howling through the trees like banshees
city drifts and cars slipping
I arrived a snow child
I like to stroll the city streets
as magical snow changes downtown
pigeons hover on the ledges
folding their wings together
Ottawa steeped in history
the buildings are old and beautiful
gray bricked, elegant and sturdy
many homes Victorians
My city boasts of many winding trails
but nothing is more amazing than in winter
a crisp, walk among sleeping trees
oh, love hiking past a frozen stream that still ripples
I have creaking rooms in an old city building
outside my window trees in all seasons are my view
but winter snow falling on my city stirs my soul
I can hear my beloved snow calling me
come, come, come outside my love
Writing was a passion
Passion masked the nail
Your child’s way of life was writing
Mom’s little author she thinks
Mom boasts about the qualities of an author son
Mom doesn’t know there’s a nail in the picture
Your son is sitting,
Feeling the rusty nail pierce his brain
This nail is masked
Your son begs for aid in removing the nail
Mom ignores the begs
Mom tells child to toughen up
This nail eventually takes a toll to the child’s heart
The child begs to his mom
Mom ignores the begs
The child can’t deal with the pain
The nail is now taking full control
Mom ignores the begs
Mom opens child’s door next day
The nail just pinned the coffin
Now the mom listens
Five decades ago, one dusk after field duty
I stood at Moirang Lamkhai by the roadside
waiting for the passenger bus.
No bus came the last one might had gone I feared.
Then I spied an old man, dhoty hitched to knees,
shirt of cotton coarse sleeves long.
Bare foot he strode in the hush of the twilight.
I hailed, " Uncle has the last bus gone ? "
" Yes, it has gone, no more tonight." he replied,
" Homeward bound ? Don't worry stay at my house tonight."
No hotel in the bazaar but a pure hospitality.
We walked the road, his voice was gentle.
" See how the land developed - going on the road
feels like going on my home's floor (earthen)."
Then Gopaljee Sharma,Asstt Registrar C.S.
rolled in by office jeep post duty.
He called me aboard : I thanked the kind elder,
bade farewell, returned to my residence.
Now Moirang Bazar boasts hotels.
But such a kind hospitable old man,
which was the characteristics of people in the old days,
is not seen again.
there are faceted sides
with the jewelers cut
an intuitive act – an empath’s work of refinement
that boasts mastery and natural symmetry
stolen from the roughness
commandeered from a fleck of carbon
embodied in 990,000,000 years of evolution
he endeavors to open and free its beauty
precisely the third eye reconnoiters
with tools representing intellect
impowered by skill and modern techniques
he strikes off chards of nature’s ancient creation
chiseling to remodel its perfection
he facets to release the light
shielded and tendered in millennial history
that has waited timelessly to be revealed
like the voice that creates the aria
each note given the precise clarity
birthing the song
he imbues the human element
melding with the majesty of this ancient stone
taking shape, becoming a source for his soul
he and the stone are one
with the wisdom of what eternity truly is
within the infinite human heart
Emerald is not born weak.
It learns patience hidden very deep.
Emerald does not beg for light.
It works tirelessly until it is just right.
This is a green who remembers what it holds.
It does not glitter for everyone, like gold.
Time is her companion. Time leans in close.
It says, 'stay the course.'
A mantra your soul already knows.
There is a difference between beauty and endurance.
Emerald is acquaintance to both.
It stands in my chest, proud.
Not the kind of green that boasts.
This green makes love with pressure.
Surviving what tries to squeeze.
I keep emerald when weakness festers.
So my greatness can unleash.
Many a student sees school subjects like 123... ten
Many a student thinks it a den
Such makes out of each a slug
Without taking note it's a humbug
That needs to be attacked with felicity
Through little weeny ferocity
Many a student works with team
Many a student matches alone with his dream
Thus makes his efforts seem dry
As if he had never for once try
Despite the enlightenment of the town
Should have not mark him drown
Many a student works delightfully with codes
Many a student boasts grotesquely of his modes
Leading his way through the same bush
Which the warries and wears continually push
Ends up to pleasurably park
While the toughs blissfully bark
He is the family's pet
Who no one dears spank
Got him the gut to bet
No troubles bank
But the course of great career never did run smooth
That makes one soothe
whose flushed cheek is it that lies
within the heated crook of your arm?
whose eternal lost soul is it that dies
among the reeds, in this torrid state of alarm?
how lengthy is this penance
that we walk with blistered feet?
for all my love to lie within a sentence,
before i become the sacrificial meat
it is in this ritual that i dance,
if only for your pleasure, Sir -
a jousting champion with a fractured lance,
his young bride nestled deep in her cloak of fur
the banners wave as the swords clash,
hands are clutched and nails are bit -
in all this chaos our tempers grow rash,
igniting the firefight at the red heart of it
from a noose there hangs the remaining scraps
of a former man, clinging onto the rope -
the wind sways so upon the trunk that the heel bone taps,
a beacon, for the opposition, of brute hope
the hope that it is not their second son,
for the first stays put at high court,
who boasts of seasons and battles won -
their palpable pride permeating the fort
New year starts from prayers to cheerful soul and nice eating habits
Nutritious foods, balanced diet and purity of life always keep us fit.
Every morning, let’s all stretch, bend, jump, walk, run or dance
Exercise controls weight, heart and brain cells are enhanced.
Working every day at long hours…so exhausting, we sweat a lot
We need to drink 2 to 3 liters of water especially if the weather is hot.
Sunshine-exposure each morning strengthens muscles and bones
Stronger body resistance to diseases boasts soundly like horn.
Temperance regarding foods, smoking, alcohol or liquor
Trash vices! Health is annihilated at a drunken stupor.
Air is fresh and soothing at beaches-- take time to walk, inhale
Always check air quality index, wear mask if AQI is low, fails.
Relax once in a while, watch movies, listen to music or sing
Rest from long days’ work, refresh mind, have enough hours of sleeping.
These health laws add life, bring peace and joy, dodging all tears
Trust God above all, for spirit and body’s strength throughout the year.
Lessons Writ in the Silence of Roots
(in nature dwells the tender art of healing)
No root proclaims the labour of its stay,
Nor boasts of strength that holds the tree at bay;
It works unseen, where patience learns its trade,
And anchors life beneath the noise of shade.
The deepest growth avoids the open air,
And shuns the urge to prove what stands out there;
It presses down where pressure tempers will,
And learns its worth by learning to be still.
No root demands the seasons bend its way,
Nor curses frost that makes it pause and stay;
It answers weight with grip, not grievance loud,
And meets obstruction humbly, firm, unbow’d.
What heals the tree is not the leaf’s display,
But what persists when leaves have blown away;
The unseen holds when surface beauty flees,
And loss instructs what strength must come to be.
So stand like roots—no witness, no demand—
And hold what lives by understanding land;
For growth that lasts is rarely taught aloud,
But writ where time and silence are allow’d.
He is like a deadly disease bringing despair.
He won't take the hint, he isn't wanted anywhere.
He is like a dark cloud, polluting the air.
Yet he insists on showing up unannounced everywhere.
His sense of self importance is baffling considering he has accomplished so little in life.
Most people find him insufferable, even his own sweet wife.
He boasts of grandiose dreams of wealth and fame.
He is clueless to the fact that no one gives 2 shizits about his crappy game.
He will keep talking and talking, even when no one will listen.
Unaware he is a waste of space and a waste of perfectly good oxygen.
He is condescending to others but being called out gets him frustrated.
He wears a stupid hat too small for his big ugly head
and always looks angry and constipated.
He is easily upset when his ideas are ignored or dismissed.
He hates being in group settings where his butt is not being kissed.
When people aren't admiring him, he will throw a pity party and wallow.
It's a shame that 51 years ago, his mama didn't swallow.
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