I. Prostitutes
Poets words are prostitutes,
Used for any writer’s pleasure,
‘Love’ and ‘death,’ ‘light’ and ‘dark,’
Among my worst offenders.
Unlike a painting’s virgin virtue,
With shapes like never seen before,
In colours just that very shade,
Unique in each of form.
Love and death are my whores too,
Whose rates are precious pain,
Never free the words we use,
Piercing time and time again.
II. Lovers
My words are tender lovers,
Whom I touch upon with care,
Flitting beauties, feathered wonders,
Whose dressing music I can wear.
My should I hold the music captive,
Arrangement words of note,
With power to soothe a race vindictive,
Make heard the quiet, give them hope.
As a stave holds finite lines,
Our language but some words,
But in those happy few we find,
Potential for new patterns,
Hitherto unheard.
To soul’s discourse when we deal well,
Wounds of heart hitherto heal well.
Let whole world see no good in you,
Clouds once clear, sun-moon reveal well.
______________________
Epigram | 03.08.2025 | self, heart, clouds, sun
Note: Apart from being a Muktak, this could well be the first two couplets of a ghazal.
NOW THAT WE ARE AWAKE
Now that we are awake –
We had all the long while
Been in deep dreamless slumber
And while we were still
Still slumbering in our
Unreal bed of red roses
They planned, practised and projected
What “tomorrow” would likely bring
Now that we have realized with pain
That the “tomorrow” we failed to plan for
Has changed herself to “today”
We watch with mouth agape
As their deep buried conduit pipes
In our land of milk and honey
Drain the natural resources
That had sustained our life hitherto
Shall we fold our arms, do nothing or
Jump on the mass exodus bandwagon
While they milk our land dry?
Can we by this endless wailing
And tearful row and retorts
Within and outside our shores
Free our land, our people
From their firm and hurting grip?
Can we by mere declaration of innocence
Wish away the doom that looms?
Now that we are awake
Let’s answer these questions sincerely
As we continue to search for freedom.
In the mind of a poet on days when his muse is uninspiring
In the smile of great-grandma as her wrinkled hands hold her great-grandbaby
In the thoughts of a philosopher when he ponders on the intricacies of life
In the eyes of a farmer when his soil yields good crops after days of toil
In the silent prayer of a devotee as he stands before his Lord with eyes closed
In the sweet cuddle of a pet when he sees his master after a long time
In the tears of a mom when she meets her son after several years
In the void, hitherto unfilled, in the hearts of distant soulmates
In every single bud of thought that blooms in a mute’s mind in his lifetime
Within a chosen realm,
Empty, yet occupied by many a mind
Stacked upon the next, as chaos forebode,
They’ve left their very own bodies behind.
In there, they’re Theirs,
The Them, whose glimpse the gospel pined.
Stacked upon the next, in order by code,
Their there, where they’re confined.
As if, as if, They’re there,
Yet neither hitherto here nor hither beheld,
Beyond on behalf our whereabouts share,
Here, where body and mind must meld.
Within this obligatory abode,
Full anatomy empty apart flesh and bone,
We bend to pretend the anarchy,
We wrought ere we’ve ever known.
“We’re their's,”
He said,
In absolution,
Sure we’re here for share,
Yet neither fear nor despair was made aware,
In replacing “our” with “their.”
The diabetes Fraud
On Der Spiegel today I read that a solution to diabetes had been discovered, the article showed a serious medical staff breaking out
In jubilation, followed by happy patients
The reason it was not made official was because the big pharma would shut it down
Hang on!
I remember having read the same article 5 years ago about a rare plant in Peru that in powder and taken before bed would cure Diabetes
A spoonful of this stuff a day will surely keep Doctors away
The rare plant from a hidden valley in Peru now
In liquid form are costly, but what the heck
A diabetic is willing to pay any price to be able
To be cured right?
You will hitherto be slim and handsome again Full of energy vigorously march forward to new life, thanks to a flower in Peru
Such a fraud, the slimming of your bank account, you have been had when the blood sugar is too high and it is back to insulin again
First things first, we enter the void of vast space,
deep within the cave of our heart to discern
truth of our self, discarding crutch of belief …
free from fear and doubt.
Dropping mind, we navigate magnetic fields
pulsating in funnels within feeble form,
hitherto unknown to us, enlivening …
fabric of our soul.
God’s light that lights all lights then pervades each cell
in organic decaying body which we
ensoul for the duration our life breath flows …
darkness is banished.
The eagle has landed.
A very electric man who has vast riches
has hitherto behaved as your next-door neighbor
he might think he is that neighbor
He is not an eagle sits on top of a tree, on branches further
down lesser birds that fly in formation
the eagle flies alone and harbors a loathing for
ducks and gees
He knows argumentative crows can be bother
some leave a trail open for them, a path that he can pretend
to join when a hunt does not disturb the eagle's instinct
This is, if we like it or not, the way the nature someone is doomed
to be the leader to keep the rabbits in check,
less they should demand equity
Lord, it is dark inside and darker out,
and black thunderous rainstorms thunder by
blessing the tiller, the grower in drought
but Lord, not all that rages is the sky.
Behold, I am drowning but not yet drowned,
an ordinary man and nothing more
on a quest to find hitherto unfound
the heat of passion that begins the thaw.
In the sum of all hurt this I must bear -
that I too have known the seasons of drought,
and washed am I in a cold bath of fear
by life’s flood of tears and love’s well of doubt.
Still the ground I till lays fallow and torn
but for the pricking briar and piercing thorn.
Written: July 1997
Ploddingly it took the form
Of some dispassionate melody
Our wailing voices at crescendo
For our undying we mourn
With care they traipsed the deck
A mass of notions in mind
Did ten artlessly disappear
or were held by the Atlantic's inside?
Still we stood and tried to inform
Searchers of our malady
That we living men hitherto
can presently not be seen
Still we stand on Mary's deck
To us the world is blind
As they neither see nor hear
our gestures nor our cries
Not all can be explained
Not all can we fathom
Some presences can't be felt
like the eight in seventy two
The eagle has landed
A very electric man who has vast riches
has hitherto behaved as your next-door neighbor
he might think he is that neighbor
He is not
An eagle sits on top of a tree, on branches further
down lesser birds that fly in formation
the eagle flies alone and harbors a loathing for
ducks and gees
He knows argumentative crows can be bothersome
he leaves a trail open for them, a path
that he can pretend to join when a hunt is not
disturbing the eagle's instinct
This is, if we like it or not, the way the nature
someone is doomed to be the leader
to keep the rabbits in check, les they should demand equity
Angry Citizens
Tired of the sitting woke government, the fake
niceness and the depletion of Germanies
heavy industry, not to forget her sycophantic
behavior towards Israel, a far-right party has
emerged.
There has been dark plotting afoot by some of
the party members, namely a famous TV cook
a welder from Austria, a GP. an astrologer
and presumably a tealeaf reader
The plot was to kidnap the prime minister
parade him on TV in his North Korean hairpiece
the one he only uses at home, hitherto a family
secret, although there had been rumors
force feed him bratwurst, boiled potatoes
and chicken nuggets until he promised to end
his pathetic practices and make Germany
great again.
The would-be terrorists were caught there
will be a trial, but we sense they will be let off
with custodian sentence
"Only the heroic has the right to gloat.
Whence
day lighted Anthem(s)
in metamorphosis for one Haiku included
Jackson Street in the city of Edinburg ,
even though a Duke outlook
in Cans,
Sardin
Oil blessing in assimilating such and so!
Why Haiku? Why so?
An inevitable question was in nuptial engagement
for optimum and optical fiber
reasoned and seasoned for both
Even though!
Knowing Marination
too much in spoon, hitherto
Hiatus, The speaker in dismay
postponed the case
Just in case!
Man O’ Man can’t conquer the mother!
Hitherto, the quoth be gather.
To the havoc, thy avarice, foment;
The virulence is a channel of chastisement.
Man O’ Man can’t conquer the mother!
Hitherto, the quoth be gather.
The virulence is evil of discrete; say vox populi.
Is this matter fit to greet; nay Mehdi.
Man O’ Man can’t conquer the mother!
Hitherto, the quoth be gather.
Ipso facto, there will be a Jenner;
But the limbo, thence, ratifies the beginner.
Man O’ Man can’t conquer the mother!
Hitherto, the quoth be gather.
Life is an eternal ecstasy
Flowering as ripe old age
Liabilities over, shorn of shackles
Confined to oneself and free to peep into
Fads and foibles lying dormant for decades
The wisdom at its best, with the strings few
Leaves, petals, breeze, dawn, dusk and dew
As adorable companions offering divine notes
To the melody of heart, mood and passions
Echoing as penance, serenity and joy
With love, compassion and forgiveness
All in one
The hidden hues come to the fore
With unknown treasure on the fingertips
Making million times richer and able
Turning thoughts in to wings, ready to fly
To reach the stars, moon and the clouds
The exciting new self, hitherto unknown
Opening days as an era of joy and thrill
Planning solo journey to new destinations
It is time to rediscover the life
Merging with the chastity of earth and sky
And enjoying virginity of the divine
In the life’s second bloom
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