Life's long ride
To which,
I opted for smaller tides
That comes and goes
Like latecomers, summer night
Seeing myself passing over the potion
Summer changes into winter
And now I am with the ocean
With no direction, just a sprinter
More than anything, they hate
Their members arriving late:
After “Eight” still at The Gate…
One walks fast, forgets “Loved Gait”;
The Dirty, be in that State!
More than anything, they hate
To be the ones that should wait
For Stewart, Maureen or Kate:
Colleagues who’d been handed “Date”,
The Last that should slight their mate
Or fall to The Cheapest Bait.
A forum one holds one’s plate,
Spanish Wine served in a crate
And one drinks at chosen rate
So why not treat it as Great:
The Forum permit its weight?
I
I used the brown wheat flour from ten days ago
Made my own bread, chapati or Indian roti
'cause I will not stand in lines for food anymore
My students heard the advice: raise some food, veggies
Twice now, I picked "wild spinach" that made great dinners
II
At our supermarkets, we're spreading germs galore
Queuing two hours before, then latecomers push hard
When doors open, bodies and germs mix in furor
Why isolate, then queue without police presence
To enforce social distancing, but not for food?
III
Nations stop the travelers flying ... riding in
Good, but there are the food-store weak spots - "virus lines"
One would think we would know this, from Christmas madness
How much more now, when shoppers come from far and wide
As sheep we need The Rod and Staff, the State must see!
Cell phones not quite silenced;
Playbills get perused.
Bathroom needs attended to;
Latecomers excused.
Cough drops start unwrapping;
Jackets drape on laps.
Hands relax anticipating
Lots of fervent claps.
Watches are consulted;
Ushers stroll the aisles.
Tourists glance around to note
The New York City styles.
Lights at last are dimming;
Conversations cease.
Finally, it’s time to let
The actors say their piece.
The first time that Godly Committee took seat
The latecomers found not a space to sit
Drawn up was the Heavenly Constitution
To regulate the earthly institution
Life on earth was just made to be flawless
In contrast with the abyss that is floorless
Life was made to sound like nice Christmas jingles
Instead men on earth created concrete jungles
Where prostitution dominates brothels
This is how paupers are made in motels
God expects creation to come to fruition
But men just trust more in their intuition
One group is being consumed in idealism
The other group upholds empiricism
Believing that life is through experience
Where conclusions are by experiments
Baked are theories that are metaphysical
Formulas that are mathematical
Perfect conclusions of theories come not
Solutions by formulas turn to naught
Men think creation to be accidental
But cosmos is divinely transcendental
System of creation eludes the man's mind
That is the order of God for mankind
WHERE ELSE WILL WE GO
When the influx of love drizzles
But vapourize in blazing sun
Fleeing from hinterland
An errant boy brings irrversible
Crystalline flesh of life
Latecomers by plight
Where shall we hide the flame,
Kept in heart, our children
Peep out breaking the shell
Haphazard step to culpable air
Freeze, no more foolhardy steps
Rush to preserve the flame
Before it get strangled in cool shores
Laced with foamy salt of life.
What else shall we do ?
Where else will we go ?