Away from alleys, muggers don sombreros.
So sharp, so twisting, they’re like arrows.
The target never narrows.
Sneaking, dancing through the night,
Arrows never cause a fright.
They steal every light.
Not one is safe; they’re everywhere.
Look around for their snare.
Don’t say your cross is too much to bear.
Are you too blind to see?
The answer is in front of me.
I will never be set free.
high rise
get high rays
and wetter
on wet days
closer
to aeroplanes
in lanes like cars
soldiers of concrete
steel feet in wars
in pillars
like Lot’s wife
or muggers
with sharp knife
hanging in blocks
or flocks
stabbing the sky
My pen cascades it's ink here and now,
Leaving stains on my pad, silently i assign my words,
Carefully in a filthy aura, they might be candied than
Thaumatin, yet as biting as lime, very monotonous
And exhausting.
Perseverance please!, it's not my fault.
Let fault be found to the wicked, who are never guilty
Of their licenticiousness and that's why my pen is on a hike
Traipsing about to rebuke the vicious.
If i were you, profligacy would be a consequence.
Perpetrators of the ordinance along with the
Muggers of mutual estate, to them it would
Be a remorseful dilemma.
If i were you, this couldn't be what we're,
Impoverished, philistinism, unpaid time off and
Antiquated. I wish i were you, you couldn't be
What you're doing, nefarious crooker, larcenous,
Deceitful and shameless, still they don't get
Why if i were them.
I wish i had that crown on my head,
It doesn't matter whether it would fit me or not
But it would definitely suit me, to hold the treasure
Fishy enough it's neither mine nor yours,
It belongs to them.
There is someone - a boy.
I shouldn't have taken the child here.
I'm slipping, taking him with me;
he won't let go of my hand.
We are on the very verge
of a deep pit,
teetering upon its crumbling edge,
at the craters floor a pool
in those waters are sauropods,
crocodilians.
Scree rolls under our feet;
the heavy handgun on my hip
weighing us down, dragging us toward
those saw-toothed muggers
who now thrash in an expectant melee.
In a dreaming funk,
a pensive fear snatches at my flesh,
Then as we slip and slide I glance at the boy
seeing myself in him.
I shout to that younger me
that we both will die from the unforeseen
one day, but not today
for I exchanged that old revolver
for a less heavy Glock.
The scene melts, my child-self
still clinging to my breath
asking the bedroom ceiling: when?
Words pierce like double edged daggers Our torn soul gladens those muggers. Never expect the pious words of sorry
For them, our pain is never a worry.
When words and actions never match, Each of their deeds will make a notch.
Not on your life bother to bleed mute
But no way rush behind them in pursuit. Destiny acquaints us with many people Once they are unmasked, never be a sheeple.
Bothering about them drains our power And our life would remain in the hover. Investing hatred and curse is no way better.
With a heart of forgiveness make them shatter.
When god gave us the ability to cherish memories
We are bestowed with the art to forget our worries.
Like a barren rock provides nourishment to a plant,
Sow the seeds of hope and be diligent like an ant.
It cannot be dark always, sun rays are never obscure
Its certain that all wounds would once cure.
Rise through the crevices and breathe.
Let the symphony of nature soothe your scars, for they are symbols of endurance etched in the script of perseverance.
-Geethu Prakash
Cloudy and gloomy skies
spread out their clouds
to let sunshine occasionally peak
down the yellow fields of wheat!
A farmhouse stands alone,
it wasn't made of bricks,
but of mud and stone;
here any wind howls!
Isn't Heaven found
in the peaceful countryside
to escape the loud noise
and the visible smog?
It's such a perfect place
for that vagrant or a hog
to lay down without worries!
Groves of pines is the home
of ravens and hummingbirds,
there the caravans of gypsies
are parked along the dusty roads...
while a beagle chews on a bone,
and a grubby, adolescent boy watches
him while he plays chess with his friends!
Isn't Heaven found in the peaceful countryside?
No sirens and car honking can harm anybody's ears;
strolling along the avenues of any big city isn't safe
at night, people are scared to step outside,
afraid of encountering muggers and thieves...
is there a city safer than the countryside?
The muggers,
The rapists,
The murderers,
The paedophiles,
The confidence tricksters -
Pray for them.
The weak,
The naïve,
The young,
The old,
The inadequate mixers -
Prey … for them.
A deep pit, a crumbling edge,
at the bottom, a pool swarming with sauropods.
There is someone, a boy.
I shouldn't have taken the child here.
I'm slipping, taking him with me;
he won't let go of my hand.
We are sliding on the scree.
A gun heavy on my hip,
its weight drags us down,
to where saw-toothed muggers
thrash in a melee.
It's then that I transition.
I’m a visitor, two-dimensional
in a hurrying cityscape.
I've lost my car
in one of many similar concrete blocks.
Home is a door in the back of my mind
A door not opened yet, I suspect behind it
is a child who knows his way back.
He’s holding a tin wind-up crocodile,
one his dad once bought him.
At his side a revolver,
the same type I purchased
in Florida
in the event of alligator attack.
Why have stars and why so many?
To remind us possibility is limitless.
Why do stars sparkle like diamonds?
To put desire for beauty in our hearts.
Why do stars come out at night?
To contrast with the darkness in our world.
Why do stars appear like stars?
To show off an illusion.
Why do stars live light years away?
To remind mankind of human frailty.
Why do stars hide from city lights?
To avoid seeing muggers, murderers and thieves.
Why do stars live in the country more?
To be in a clear, fresh, unpolluted sky.
Why do stars even shine at all?
To make a wish as you see one fall.
Why do stars seem to twinkle a lot?
To pinpoint the lucky ones you’ve got.
7/2/18
I live in a concrete jungle,
with buildings in the place for trees,
and traffic noise in the place for wild game.
Dawn to dusk I trek with other people
like bison, as we search for better
opportunities;
most of which have been taken by other people.
"Dad, what have you brought us?" my children
ask when I'm about to enter my house.
What I bring home is all what I've worked
for, that day.
Sometimes I meet muggers and scammers
on the way, all who have been forced to be
as they are, because of limited resources.
They are human, but their humanity
is hidden under the carpet,
when their will to survive kicks in....
They draw love-hearts on their saucers,
after they've cleared their date lunch.
They play "shark-and-swimmer" in the pool,
as they laugh and tease each other.
They kiss deeply under the streetlights,
not worried about paparazzi or muggers.
They throw each other paper planes carrying
love letters, as they wait for the standing comedian
to begin his show.
Words most common in their phone messages
are "Darling" , "Sweetheart" , "Vanilla" ,
"Celestial Popsicle" and many more.....
Sometimes they get lost away from civilization,
and joke about their past relationships,
as they find the nearest tarmac road.
They've resigned from the saying "Marriage
has no happiness".
Swinging in the pavane of love
Doves doze where ravens nest
And bells toll for sick and poor
For drifters and muggers
Jokers and jugglers
And ones who spot a dirty floor
They fly away eventually
Rejoice by chance they may
Maybe they’ll remember
When wings tomorrow fray
Oh, the bells sing for all that is
And all that isn't too
Oh, eternal bells ring for me
Chime through cracks in truth
Oh, when bells toll I never hide
From battery buzz above
Oh, bells ring for me and you
The raven and the dove
Just in: Reported
Thefts of fresh air leave victims
Of B.O. gagging!
9/16/11
Received 3d place in "Make Me Laugh" contest
Received 5th place in "any Haiku will do" contest
Santa Claus really loves his job
He doesn’t do it for the money
But some times it’s a struggle
And sometimes it’s not funny
Trying to please the kids today
Is certainly no easy task
Balancing what they deserve
Against what they ask
Sometimes Santa is impatient
With the ungrateful little buggers
And pictures them in the future
As sociopaths, fraudsters or muggers
But Santa Claus really loves his job
And most of the kids are a joy
So he does try to be patient
And see the best in every girl and boy
On the side of the road
I lay in a box
I wake up every morning to rummage for food
I stand on the sidewalk beggging and entertaining for a small scrap of change
The only safe haven for me is the public buildings it's warm and safe there
I sleep in a alley way don't know if I will survive a night
Muggers come in the night but I have nothing to give
They just beat me and all I get in return is bruises
I find a lottery ticket in a store and I have just enough so I try my luck
It happens that I won a million dollar ticket
I live in a mansion with a swimming pool
The mobsters who beat me Now work for me
Life turned out to be in my favor
Now try your luck
Related Poems