From my drone, I see you far below
The elk stampedes, the red rocks glow
I'm like the storm over the plain
Can you outrun the rain?
You hope to make it to the black rock lands
But no-one is left, no helping hands
My drone lets loose, a bolt from the blue
The earth erupts, but it misses you.
You think of sunshine before this war
No idea back then what was in store
That foolish empathy now seems in vain
Can you outrun the rain?
You galloped the prairie, now your horse is lame
You dismount you and jog, can't face the blame.
Behind you thunder shakes the plain:
Can you outrun the rain?
You think of the horror that you helped bring
The bombed-out craters where vultures sing.
Truth wasn't your value, that was your stain
You seeded the cloud and now comes the rain.
I send a new command to the drone
I can't go through with this, so I call it home.
My heart goes out to you, I feel your pain
I'll look away while you outrun the rain.
The world is at war with attacking drones silent
the sky
Delivering it's deadly load on the people who are about to die
This assassin's tool that delivers pain in a stealth and deadly silence
Belongs in the war of today bringing hate death and violence
You will not hear it's engine just maybe a little bit of humming
You will have no idea where it is or from what direction it will be coming
The drone started as a toy intended for children to play
Not to used in silent attacks and to take innocent lives away
Drone Warfare
Bring an end to winter. To these lethal strikes.
Drones and bombing foggy days over Kyiv.
The bombs are still being heard around the clock,
Non-stop. Shadow on the radar.
Haunting symbols, leaving lingering trauma
and invisible wounds.
So (Sow) maty (Mother) zhyto (Rey).
Their weeping mothers.
“I’m sorry for your loss”.
For your loss, it has come at a devastating cost.
There is still a blue road. Fire won't destroy everything.
The drowned remain ours, to be treated as
collateral damage or unspoken beyond a humanitarian
crisis; slowly moving toward the blur.
Trying to articulate silence.
While battlefields are increasingly being used by
Drones, known as gray zones.
Watching as this subnormal unfolds.
To think while walking among the shambles
Those cemetery walls.
Satellite breaching the sacred with pierced intent.
There will be a resurgence from a sobering reality.
What endurance can teach us all.
Not falling victim to a dictator's aggression defies.
As a phoenix rises, we reclaim the nation.
Between the ruins of decadence and ash,
Where drones carve lines across the sky,
A silent question starts to crash,
As modern empires pass us by:
Quo vadis, humanity?
From Gaza’s dust to Ukraine’s snow,
Through Lebanon and Iran's red night,
The profits of the weapon-sellers grow,
While children lose their futures to the fight.
They only asked to see the morning sun,
To run on feet not broken by the blast,
But calculations made behind a gun
Declare that peace is something in the past.
You claim these illegal, hollow wins,
To paint your maps in rivers of regret,
But when the final, global storm begins,
Who will be left to profit or forget?
Quo vadis, humanity?
Turn back your rockets, ground your iron birds,
Before the silence of a dying earth
Becomes the final answer
of an inevitable final life's end.
The drone doesn't produce honey!
But it makes his queen happy...
he dies doing this,
he dies with pleasure!
he simply gives its life,
for love... for the honey!
Champak flowers, you have charms three:
Beauty, colours, and fragrance,
What among them the reason be
That drone bees dare take no chance?
Radha's charmed by Champak’s beauty
And bee is Krishna’s devotee,
How can any a close he be
To blossoms of a Champak tree?
________________________
Translations | 30.10.2025 | bee, devotee, fragrance, tree
Note: This follows the first part of the poem. A poet in Braj bhasha (see below) ventures to explain why in the spirit of ‘ God may know, but let me try’. Radha, is Lord Krishna’s love interest, and as she is cast in Champak’s charms and the drone bee being Krishna’s devotee, would sure pay due respect not to go near the flowers. What fertile imagination I would say!
Champa tujamein teen gun,
Rupa ranga aru bas,
Kaun gun aiso bhayo
Ke bhramar na aave pas?
Champa-varani Radhika,
Aur bhramar Hari ko das,
Kaise fir bhramar aave
Champa ful ke pas?
Winging away in lush green wood
Amidst young blossoms, tends to brood
The six-footed drone bee
And flees from Champak tree.
Why, beauteous not is she?
Bemused by blooms not he?
God alone knows everyone's good.
___________________________
Translation | 29.10.2025 | beautiful, God, green, flowers, wood
Note: A drone bee enjoys the blossoms of all flowers except that of Champak tree (Magnolia Champaca). The poet wonders why, but can’t figure out the reason, and says: God only knows. His wish, His mood. See, however, the next verse. Below is the transliteration of the Sanskrit verse:
Bhraman vana ante nava-mañjarishu
Na shat-padah gandha-falim ijighrat |
Saa kim na ramyaa sah cha kim na rantaa
Baleeyasi kevalam ishvara iccha || Indravajra meter ||
Having the peaceful right
On a clear night
Hearing tranquil sounds
Watching the twinkling lights downtown
Not expecting any interruption
From deceitful local corruption
But to my surprise
Someone’s undermined lies
While sitting alone
There was a drone
Flying around
Taking pictures of the ground
As it buzzed
Doing what it does
I stayed still
Could it fire and kill?
After a few seconds
Of doing checking
Seeing nothing there
And I was scared
It did have a heart
And a war it did not start
You see, it is not all right
On a clear night
To bother someone alone
With an invading drone
In fact
It is classified as an attack
Beckoning the response “take that
you neighborly nosey brat”
lawn mower drone cuts the silence in half
I can pretend not to hear it
or pretend I like it
I pretend it is a wishing machine
granting wishes all along the road
and I am the next house
-----------------------------------------
The drone of birds in war offensive
hear the drone of war
pity the birds, amassing
way out there someplace,
they'll be back in droves to drone
the piteous drum of war
Stare
Stare
A murder of Drone Crows
Swarmed above the protest
Swivelling above the crowd
Pausing on targets identified
Hacking into their brain implants
"Disperse!"
"Disperse!"
Messages sent along descending
Neural pathways to their feet
Crow demands!
Directive tingles, itches
Pepper smoke
Released
Compliance accomplished
Mission complete...
Crows stack in darkened alleys
Waiting for
Next ignition commands
Stare
Stare
The reindeer games included basket ball
Guess who bruised his brain from a freaky fall
And broke his leg all in vain, his red nose raw
Rudolph is his name but he can’t answer calls
For Santa’s hot line rings but broken leg
Is just as bad as Rudolph’s bruised head
But he has an idea maybe work from home
By delivery service of his silver drone.
Parts of me lay scattered around now
Wailing and misery from the nursing home
A cup of ice water
Maybe a spoon of ice cream
My only attempt to sooth her
Nights uninterrupted seem
Like a spaceship entering another realm
Rushing to the phone
Pleading for relief
Frantic, I call for the night nurse
Calling back in 30mn praying for
A calm voice
My day planned to scour groceries
And deli's
Hoping for the perfect creation
Or taste she craves
Updates from her care team
Always the same hated word
Declining
My girls secretly know
A picture of my grandchildren
Brings a smile to the corners
Of her mouth
My car knows the short drive to her
A fast-entry spot awaits
Peaking at her daily letters to dad
18 years, everyday the same first line
"My darling, I love you, I miss you
Please bring me home"
A dozen journals, now stacked
By my bed
The quiet of the night drones on
Your home now Mom
And forever in my heart
"Hold a place for me mom"......
06/12/24
2:08 am
Mom transitioned 06/05/24
Never careful here
I saw smokes from uphill
Our foes drawing near.
jumping off the cloud:
diving recklessly into
the thrill of FPV flight
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