Long Bricks Poems
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*“The evil that man do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;”
Shakespeare in Julius Caesar
Self Love
Time has now dawned to start loving myself
After fifty-five years serving others
In public sector with love and passion
With striking sincerity of purpose
With deft devotion and dedication
With candid commitment and conviction
With integrity as the best friend
And holding honesty in the right hand
As inscribed in the contours of my fate
Irrespective of who`s at helm of state~
Serving at diverse rungs of the ladder
From the lowest steps to the highest stairs
Caring for the health of the public purse
Sinking in the sea of stark stagnation~
Carrying bricks to rebuild the country
To make the land a better place to dwell
For all, heedless of caste, colour or creed
Regardless of tints of flags they brandished~
Oft stuck between the anvil and hammer
Serving as screen against storms and showers
With the shoulders burdened with heaps of loads
Some times to the detriment of my health.
Now ditched down the deep well of oblivion
By so-called friends, envious of my seat
Who used me as props to climb the ladder
And nestle themselves with safety at ease
As ravenous wolves in sheep`s clothing
As lizards changing hues to suit their needs~
Such is the fate of the evolving world
Where one`s goodness is interred with one`s bones*
Or turned to ashes and sprinkled away
To sink in the solitude of the sea.
Now with hair turning grey and the bones lean
When moving hundred steps is a burden
When the body night and day pines with pain
I feel that during my long journey of life
I have turned my back to loving myself~
And now is the time to carve a small spot
In the corridors of my senile heart
At long last to grow the grains of self love,
But not to close the door to share with friends
Lessons learnt to brave the wafting wild winds.
My voyage of life has brought to the fore
Self love is not synonym of ego
But at day`s end a decent desired goal
To be myself with my stress, strains and strength
Just a solitary human being
Singular like a single shining star
Scanning the deep sea of the inner self.
There’s a little log cabin, nestled by a big, fur tree.
It’s the place that my daddy built, before there was me.
It’s the warm cosy place, the place where I was born,
He made a little wooden cradle with carving to adorn.
The colorful wooden blocks daddy made when I was one.
He would pile then up for me to knock them down, such fun.
There was a little rocking chair daddy made when I was two.
He made a bigger one for mummy and one for him too.
When I was three he made a wooden doghouse for my new dog.
The dolls house he made when I was four was made from just one log.
I was five when he made a tire swing hanging from the big fur tree.
My daddy went away to be with the angels and forgot to take me.
And he didn’t make me anything when I was turning six.
We moved into a big house that was all made out of bricks.
We couldn’t take much stuff, mum said we had to travel light.
I miss my little dog and toys and tire swing, it just doesn’t seem right.
But most I miss my daddy, I need him here with me.
I'll be very good and when he comes home he will see.
Mum said he is making stuff for the angels now,
But he left all his tools behind, so I really don’t see how.
Everything feels different now. It feels quite strange.
Mum says in time I will get used to the way things will change.
Oh, the stress-free, carefree world of children
O' take me back to the lil kids' playpen
When we tried on mom's cosmetics and lipsticks
and built playhouses with plastic blocks and bricks
And had fun with cooking set picnics
Anything could be a toy
and our racket could annoy
We turned everything into play things
We played pretend queens and kings
We then played 'mom and dad'
Oh the squealing fun we had!
Teasing, chasing hens and kittens
climbing the grumpy neighbour's fence.
There was paper airplanes
and frisking in the rains
Paper boats too were made
and hide'n'seek was played
And when that wasn't enough
we played blind man's bluff.
We nimbly climbed the trees
hair flailing in the breeze
But our child's play naturally mimicked the grownups
Lil plastic ones instead of real porcelain cups.
Life was all play and games
in our growing mental frames.
Sand castles and kites
childish fights and frights!
And kind parents just let them frisk and play
for all work and no play makes one a dull boy
They say blood is thicker than water
Maybe if you weighed it by the gram
Rule obeyed by every son & daughter
Ham it up when you are in your pram
A through strife of life transporter
With some families it can be a scam
Parents don’t love like they oughter
Sadly behave badly don’t give a damn
Should be your ultimate problem sorter
Even when your are in a real jam
Treat their offspring like a free porter
As your emotions they will just slam
We are just a lamb to the slaughter
As your devotions like a bull they ram
They should be your bricks & mortar
Older realise I’m in their folder of spam
Despite fact they should be a supporter
So with our friends the good times cram
Because sometimes famalam is a sham
A Compendium
Whoops a daisy, Auntie Maisie’s lying on the floor
She just put on my roller skates she won’t do that no more
No one knew that she was there until we heard her squeals
What a shame her Zimmer frame won’t work with feet on wheels
****
Tiddles got his claws under the fish tank’s metal lid
He fished around and that became the last thing that he did
Blood was flying everywhere and that was quite a drama
Some landed on a picture book called ‘How To Keep Piranha’
****
The ghostly ghoul went through the wall, and not the open door
In his hands he held the hat he used to wear before
Timmy’s bones were shaking as he stared up from his bed
The ghost approached his bed and said, have you seen my head
****
Timmy sat there in his push chair counting building bricks
He was very clever and he’d got to twenty six
He told his mum to wait because he had to count them all
His mum said that will take too long, ’cause that’s the Albert Hall
****
The alien had practiced on his ten year trip through space
And soon he would communicate with the human race
He felt smug that he’d learned the language as he travelled far
Until a two foot human being said, goo goo gaa gaa
The alien was upset and he got back in his craft
He came here feeling clever but now he just felt daft
He took off and he sped away to planet Zandoss Nine
And Mark the midget told his mate, that gets em every time
***
Teacher saw the cows and said you mustn't run or shout
Timmy saw his lace undone and bent to sort it out
He didn’t run, nor did he shout, nor did he bring a Mac
Which might have helped when he received a big pat on the back
The truth about children,
They’re tiny sparks that glow in the dark,
They're embers that warm the space,
They're treasures on an abandoned island,
They're vessels of a worthy cause,
They add colours to a gloomy day,
Their silly acts cast a shadow on a bright day,
Reassembling my childhood,
Fixing the lost pieces,
Straightening the contoured lines,
Bringing back childhood memories,
Admonishing, instructing and teaching,
Letting them know,
First, friends are sculptors and masons,
Secondly, they’re painters and carpenters,
What view of you do they have in mind?
What substance do they
intend to make of you?
These speak volumes of their craftsmanship,
These tell of the motive behind their labours.
April 20, 2022.
As for Mornings
The skin on my feet crinkles and looks like an old newspaper left out in the sun, I have five pairs of shorts and can use none
I have bought a cream for dry skin, but first, I need a shower that
makes the skin drier still, and I think, it all!
At a building site. nearby, they are boring a big square hole in the
ground presumable a garage for electric cars and stick a big building
on top, I hope it floods!
The building site used to have a nice house, set in a beautiful garden, but Sharks with cement, bricks, and money came and a story ended
There is talk of banning petrol cars, that means we, pensioners and
low low-paidkers learn to walk or take the bus, getting wet and soggy when it rains, the bus is late.
it all!
Ground of Formless Realities
Ground Zero
AN APPEAL TO MAKE IT ONLY A GANDEN OF GOD- A PLACE OF PEACE
AND NON-VIOLENCE ONLY.
( The poem is dedicated to all those who lost their precious lives on 9/11)
My heart aches and emotions start bleeding
Remembering the pain and agonies of those
Who lost their lives, while we all remained watching only?
Cursing the helplessness, that we
Could not do any thing to save
A life, a tear from eyes of mothers and wives;
Brothers, sisters and lovers or beloveds.
Or the dear ones, who were there, just inside.
The disaster was happening, right
Before our eyes full of tears.
The glaring fact of brutal and unforgivable deed
Tearing apart its people hearts in pieces and a nation’s pride
Had moved the entire world except those
Who believe in the faith of violence and misdeeds?
Let us keep now that place ‘Ground Zero’
A place of Peace and Non violence
Where kindness and love can be seen in every branches and trees
Where Nature may exists in its serene beauty and coolness
Let there be no bricks and walls
No pits and falls
And no sound of any kind except the
Sound of kindness and love and the music of nature
Which we can hear coming from birds and flowers
From plants and trees and water running streams.
Let us make it a Garden of God.,
In the memory of those who lost their lives
And kept their nation’s pride high.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 10th Sept. 2010
DEDICATION: The Poem is dedicated to
all my fellow Americans.
And this dedication is not only from me
but from all the peace loving people of India.
We are with you in the hour of your grief.
Ravindra
They Said
Don’t talk when big people are talking
Leave their presence now, start walking
Be a good boy don’t ever backchat
Greet a big person, take off your hat
You got bushman blood, hair’s not straight
To be dark of complexion just wasn’t great
Your brain, the way you think wasn’t fast
You’re just another coloured, second class
Don’t worry just finish standard eight
Then you can go work, with bricks or slate
A carpenter, a bricklayer, good to have a trade
Also okay and no disgrace, to just be a maid
Bread , rice , potatoes and stuff like that
You should not eat it will make you fat
Always remember there’s a thing called fate
Won’t meet a life partner if you’re overweight
Go to church on Sunday you’ll hear the bell
Do good, love your neighbour and live well
Heaven’s real, way up there, it’s not just talk
And down there’s hell and the devil with a fork
Did anyone really listen to what they said
Pray and don’t drink tea before you go to bed
Go to the shop and make sure you hurry back
There’s a boogeyman around and he’s always black
What of today, what are they saying now
Still the same? what when why how?
Quiet no talking, here’s a new mission
Let’s hear what they say on television
They made statements, ignorant of some things
Always hoping we’ll not be paupers but kings
Some listened, others not listening still
Truth is , I guess they never will
{C}
APvN
I did everything you asked
Obeyed every legal command
When as a teen you sent me
To that not quite alien land.
They spoke the same language
Looked just the same as me
But behind that appearance lay
A land of conflict and cruelty.
We stood out in the open
Uniformed on the street
Never sure of the reception
We were ever likely to meet.
Sometimes bricks and stones
Screaming their hate out loud
Sometimes bombs and petrol
From a rioting dangerous crowd.
They dressed in normal clothing
Hidden out there in plain sight
Sometimes we made mistakes,
Didn’t always get it right.
Sometimes in stressful situations
We didn’t always ask why,
Just acted in self preservation
Because nobody wants to die.
The terrorist, now freedom fighter
With much blood on his hands
Is now the politician in power
Holding sway over that land.
After so many long years
They want to step back in time
Bring me before a court
Accuse me of a war crime.
I did what was asked of me
Obeyed every legal command
As I struggled to survive in
That not quite alien land.
Now they’re ready to sacrifice me
For a perceived political need,
But that’s politicians for you mate,
A despised and despicable breed.