Surfing the Cyber Sea without a life vest
hunting and pecking each key at best
nothing but a gyre of flotsam and jetsam
Charybdis as far as the eye can see
where once all was clean and pristine
now the dreaded AI rules the roost
with spam from unwanted advertisers
to give it an unneeded boost
culprits remaining nameless
hiding behind anonymity
who knows what they have in mind
but open the door and it's for sure
once they're in they'll rob you blind
Britain is known to have ruled the waves
at the height of its happy heyday
a worldwide web with a maritime domain
but come what may all empires fall
yet will this disinformation superhighway remain?
Let the brief time be cast away,
Let the movable thread be loosely handled,
Let the shadow be cast on you,
Let the water flow over the distant edges.
But when you know you’ll never get the wanderer back,
Even as you cast him off,
When you tally the drifters,
They’re all misplaced and undone.
The Moirai will let him go,
Because, you know,
You only need him when the lights are burning low,
And sympathy wears veils no daylight wants to show.
His shadow is turning into a gyre,
Spin after spin;
Wearing lonesome attire,
Only his body is the circling machine.
His dreams come slow,
But they go so fast.
Perhaps they were never his,
Just echoes in the gyre’s turning shadow.
No more though I pine, may I rip from breast and thought
This blind obedience to kind that claims all that is naught
What tranche belies and thus survives divided from the whole
Ere natures heart must thus depart from customary roles
As fleeting breaths do evanesce in splintered harmony
Bids archeus farewell to dwell in brief obscurity
What balm may stem the march of time, what plea redeems the day
Who dares conspire and thus oppose the gyre of Sedens way
Riding the spiraling clockwork of reality again –
Off to the sky, beyond the clouds…
And the revolutions grow faster, but, slowly, I begin to perceive their pattern.
I am a slow learner, but I have been given the gift of time.
Bittersweet elixir of life: unfulfilled desires and unrecognized gifts,
Kaleidoscope of pleasure and pain.
Already, I have dreamt 10,000 dreams.
I am no prophet, but I believe I shall dream 10,000 more.
Learning to ride the tornado of time,
The whirlpool of reality,
The infinite gyre.
2024-05-10
Bloomed there are the starry flowers of life
On the twilight landscape of gold springtime,
The time horse runs far from the wood of Frost
Though the dream holds the sleep very warmly,
Crunchy leaves flow with the south gentle wind
Soggy meadows wrap the sunlight in ground
Steam hot under the green leaves, warming buds
Crunchy wildlife with the heave of spout trance
No stoppage in the beat lane of world blood
Why should sleep grasp the eyes in the trip lace?
Move fast if you want to lift yourself up
Lift up someone else for the happy goal
Bloomed time suits the endless cruise to renew
Where bloomed nature processes the new gyre
March 07, 2023
B--Forms And Words Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sotto Poet
The chick killed its brother;
the weak have to be expelled
from the nest,
It had to be the last and the first,
the one still instinctively pecking,
still begging from the raw red mouth
to endure long enough to soar.
She feeds it the meat of its sibling,
She has no sorrow for death
yet she must blind her eyes
to do this thing.
It gulps, grows stronger.
The consumed brother helping
to shed downy floss,
to nourish new sleek feathers.
Morsels are brought, foreign tastes,
until a small bird is put into a gaping beak.
It is not an eaglet,
the bird was born weak and yet survived
until now.
Upon a time it is chased from the eyrie,
left alone on wilderness winds
where only wings
that have thrived upon their kin
may become mothers.
The Bee sucks honey
Engraves a blue elegy
Flower's death is near
-December 23, 2018 Chattogram
***
Life lives in life inviting the death of first life
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