COPLA UNO: This Bad Guy World - in all seriousness
[The entire sequence of 114 coplas: “This Bad Guy World”, dedicated to Jorge MANRIQUE, 1440?-1479. I give here in translation his third “copla à pied quebrado” in Arte Menor metre:
“Coplas a la muerte de su padre” (Coplas on the death of his father) -
Our lives are like rivers
that empty into the sea
……..where we expire:
There the lordly peers
come to their final spree
……..and no more transpire;
There gushing rivers swell
and others less imposing
……..and the rivulets
All arrive at the same sea level
those who toil with hands living
……..and the fortunates
Translated, December 2013, Paris by T. Wignesan
we settle into our lonely together
dozens of adrift souls
drifting through the city on half-worn brake pads
ears turned away
from keening car neighbors
they catterwaul louder
than the notes playing hopscotch
in the near-empty space
between my drooping eyelids
and the fading dye in my hair
I inch them higher
drown out someone
hollering platitudes to the gods
unclear if the voice echoes in the train
or just in me
most days
the station smells of piss
and cigarette ash
but today it smells like mustard
I imagine
if I can just breathe deep enough
I can expel the taste to the mouths
of the hungry hordes
crowding equally downtrodden more fortunates
don’t buckle
it’ll only postpone our inevitable sinking
into quagmires of human filth
and self-destruction
along the crucifix of tracks
dissecting our neighborhoods
They all come, and turn,
The apostatic hundreds from the wilderness,
Hungry as the lamprey, open-mouthed,
Impatient as an itch,
And virtuous as the grave.
Those that wait remain unsatisfied,
Barren children of a barren race,
Yet hopeful ever.
Severed from their mother womb
And ushered into manliness,
The fortunates groan and hate the light
And curse the hand that feeds them.
Out of the night they come, the suburbs' nuns,
Come to the cloisters and the cellars
And in the candlelight take off the veil,
Throw inhibitions to the wind
And chastity to fools,
As far behind, an echo of the past,
A childhood godhead is dismayed.
Essence of Time
Time wheel for fortunates,
Passion on zeal vibrates !
Written October 12th, 2014
By Dr. Upma A. Sharma
For contest 'In the essence' by Nette onclaud
WAKE-UP SLEEPING FRIEND,
LET YOUR VOICE BE HEARD,
TIME TO RISE FROM THE ASHEN,
LIKE PHOENIX THE MYTHICAL BIRD.
BASE OF CHEMATICS,
HACKING INTO YOUR SYSTEM.
WAR-MINDED TACTICS,
POWERS QUICK TO CONDENM.
RISING EMINENT-DOMAIN,
POOR FAMILIES' GRIEF.
MAN-MADE ACID RAIN,
FOOLS CRAVE FOR RELIEF.
CYBERNETIC CONSPIRACIES,
PURE POLITICAL JARGON.
MILITANT MERCENARIES,
MISSING CRUCIAL CALLING.
MIGHTY STANDING REGALS,
ALIEN DOMINATION.
UNLOCKING HIDDEN POTENTIALS,
MONUMENTAL MISSION.
FLUNKIES' VOICE RESONATE,
EQUAL WAGES DENIED.
MASTERMINDS ENERVATE;
LESS-FORTUNATES' PRIDE.
SHORTING INNOVATIVE STOCKS,
DISHONEST INVESTORS.
SUDDEN MAJOR GRIDLOCKS,
POWERS EVIL GESTURES.
FACING DREADED BLIND WALL,
WHO WILL PASS THROUGH?
SPEAKING OF PROTOCOL,
MAYBE IT'S ME AND YOU.
WAKE-UP SLEEPING FRIEND,
LET YOUR VOICE BE HEARD,
TIME TO RISE FROM THE ASHEN,
LIKE PHOENIX THE MYTHICAL BIRD.
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