If lesser chimps bow, trail alpha male’s tail,
If a filly fawns on a horny stag,
Show her willing hind to dominant male,
If paupers please a podgy moneybag,
Man, an attired ape, bows to brawn and brain,
Pour pains on him to please power-wielding pelf,
A creepy spoon knows none of due restrain,
And flatters fat pockets for puny self.
A man no whit better than a proud toad
May pretend t’be an alpha lion king,
Yet if knows not enough that it's too odd,
He’s a cat that cringes in circus ring.
To bow to hefty weight as human is
As humouring lofty heights as to please.
__________________________________________
Sonnet |02.06.2009| humour
Amiss a world of violence with hate and greed strong
I withdraw within my earthen mound refusing to belong
Evil's ugly face embedded into men's souls
the wickedness they gleefully in pale they hungrily show
Mutilate children and wars for profits greed
those who speak against it are blamed for the deeds
A new world order for the richest one percent
paid by starving masses they taunt and forget
The earth bleeding with technology as a god
love evaporating in the sunlight with the fog
Mass media reports nothing but only spreads hate
only one view announce never allow debate
Stop the growth of food let them eat themselves
do not use real energy go green for it is pelf
No justice or morals or laws of any kind
mocking the victims celebrating the crime
Harvest the organs of the unborn and very poor
the rich class lives forever they must endure
A new world religion feels very very old
Lucifer rules the world his bloody crown of gold
Enough I shelter into the earth's womb
underground peace I found buried in my tomb.
The undying Artificer with His holy hand
Formed a lump of clay into living figurine,
Human Being, by name of its mortal brand.
It fell into this earth from heavenly shrine.
The creature of clay packed the empty earth
With its disparate footsteps, singular self
And grew into Races, dyed in Colour of birth.
It drenched itself in particles of lethal pelf.
Humans with a secular Name exist, expire.
Few entities of their finest feats and fame
Enlighten this earth. Yet they are, are, are
Only a lump of clay with a transient name.
Nothing!
There is nothing in for the long haul
Bliss, pelf and fame will become pale as white sheet
Dolour, lack and inefficiency will be silent as dull
All are in the cage of deceit.
Behold! Life passes like a waving from a moving train
Which we will join its berth if we receive the call
Everything in life is conceit
Only God can safe all
So that we won't suffer in life and lose heaven’s profit.
Greed of all kinds, more for power n’ pelf
Drives men to play many a mischief
It enters our world like an invisible elf
Making one demean his esteemed self
Greed is like an uncontrolled steed
It might gallop in reckless speed
Any time it can kick you down to bleed
Sometimes even causing a stampede
Running after wealth is a wild goose chase
The snobbish, wealth can easily entice
Often they have to pay a heavy price
Greed generates greed and many a vice
Money is seen by some as master and Lord
Sad, they strive everyday to hoard
Even if a lot of wealth is procured
Alas, one never feels fully secured
The root cause of many a malady is greed
We witness the ills it does everyday breed
Minimize the wants and focus only on the need
Thus from monstrous greed, let us be freed
It's not a secret if you tell
but no fun unless someone
else knows as well
Secrets told in confidence
trusting the one you tell
To their secrecy wave farewell
The human mind wants to share
loose lips without care
secrets are always told
if its a secret soon all will know
Confidentially be to yourself
not even a kiss should pelf
if a secret needs to be kept
the best thing to do is forget it.
I can breathe when I go to your parlor
Through your smile, verbose speech,
Snow white teeth, fleshy skin, sweating
I can breathe thoroughly, coz love sheer
I can breathe when I go to the fresh nature
Hearing birds chirping, walking under the
Cloudy shadow, hearing river’s rhythm
With fountain falling norm I breathe fair
But I can’t breathe when I go through myself
Where I find varied customs of discrimination
Where I make an abode of hatred, vengeance
Barring love where I care so-called patrician pelf
I’m breathless in the reign of apartheid humanity
Breathless I’m dead alive to take taste my destiny
© Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
30/01/2023
He goes with ego
Many go with him
Those without ego,
Patience is wearing thin
He is a traitor,
It is clear to see
He is a dictator
His favourite word is ME
He isn't concerned
About others, only self
How did he become President
Why? Of course, for pelf.
Power and greed
Is all that interests him
When is he going to pay
For the betrayal and sin,
He has caused, without a qualm,
When will he be punished?
For all the heartbreak and harm
He has instigated,
And delegated to others,
Who are not in a position to refuse
To fight their fellow brothers,
In a WORLD WAR,
How much farther can he go?
Before he understands the word NO
And has to succumb,
To the rule of thumb.
And pay for his misdeeds,
Before it is too late.
How can anyone be in Power for so long?
While doing wrong,
For goodness sake, please GO.
And take your EGO with you,
I am afraid you will GROW
Stronger like a virus
And it would be outrageous,
If we all become contagious.
While the world awaits a single day of peace
The tyrant delivers only turmoil and scorn,
Seeking wealth and pleasure’s release
While causing our better angels to mourn
Self-serving and arrogant, bathing in lies
While the world awaits a single day of peace,
He rants about what a vote for him buys
We know he is a rabid wolf wearing fleece.
Wondering why his blathering doesn’t cease
His lack of concern for anything but his pelf,
[While the world awaits a single day of peace]
Should be enough alone to put him on a shelf,
Still, in delusion, he clamors for more attention
Reveling in the news cycles, never a surcease,
When many of us think he belongs in detention,
While the world awaits a single day of peace.
Written November 11, 2022
What motivates you, O noble man,
To seek your fortune among the damned
Earth’s glories, the seat of utmost desire,
Seeking riches in the muck and mire.
Find riches pursuing happiness, I say,
Peace and calm the soul will inspire
Fortune not by commodities measure,
Contentment brings a greater pleasure.
Characterizing the eulogy of life well-lived,
'Tis over, what remains but treasure
Garnered in years of amassing wealth,
Passing it on, an ill-gotten, unearned pelf.
Better, I say spending time, with stealth,
Pursuing the virtues of excellent health.
Written September 22, 2022
Tom did not care about a toss,
Or listen to his current boss,
He knew all he wanted to know,
Which made his co-workers cross.
Tom did not want to learn,
You go to work to earn.
Money to support yourself
Earned money, not pelf
Or money to burn.
You will eventually get the sack,
Because of the knowledge that you lack.
If you never change your ways
You will be broke to your dying days.
There is no way of going back!
I suggest, no, implore, spare me your disgust
When I am being my self … my imperfect self,
For even the finest iron has been known to rust
When exposed to the elements it must adjust
Like the perturbed perfectionist beside himself
I suggest, no, implore, spare me your disgust.
For some elements, unlike iron, will combust,
Perhaps when aggravated, not left on a shelf
For even the finest iron has been known to rust.
Your disgust signifies to me your utter distrust
Like some oft-abused, imaginary, holiday elf
I suggest, no, implore, spare me your disgust.
Is it that you covet some talent? If you must,
I have none … not even a meagre stash of pelf
For even the finest iron has been known to rust.
I feel the anguishing pangs of unrequited lust
While seeking metaphors alone by myself;
I suggest, no, implore, spare me your disgust
For even the finest iron has been known to rust.
written February 8, 2022
What’s the flurry about getting comments?
I’m not sure they mean very much at all,
Especially when any meaningful criticisms
Will cause an “offended” writer to bawl.
Learning to not make helpful suggestions,
I mostly keep my humble opinions to myself,
Writing in the most complimentary of terms
My thoughts on your poem bring me no pelf.
By looking at the numbers I can easily see
Whether my poem has been read by a few
I will never know what they thought of it,
But no comments certainly created no stew.
If you are writing poetry for pats on the back
Read them to a mate before hitting the sack.
You may find it empty mirth,
Or some meaningless chatter,
But for how so vague its worth,
I choose to write this letter.
Let me tell you, my old man,
What ‘tis that makes one human.
I scarce know if it’s better
To talk, or write a letter,
But as is self, puffed with pelf,
Rare, it listens to the Self.
To me it’s such a pity
That we humans should know not
What constitutes humanity!
Minus money, its colour,
Prestige or be it power,
Caste or community,
And whatso else and any,
Save, O man your dharma
And born of it your karma,
Then take what’s left as balance—
Which, still is quite so immense,
That is man’s humanity.
____________________________
Monologue |02.09.2021| Free verse
Poet’s note: The true self always tries to be in touch with the pretender self, call it one’s ego, but as it happens it hardly listens. And out of frustration it chooses to write a letter. Yes, it is only a monologue, for I think, no meaningful dialogue is possible with a pretender.
For Letter to your Future Self Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One
"Where did you find your happiness?",
Someone asked me with eagerness.
"Disenslaving the pelf,
Created it myself",
Replied I, with all gentleness.
A Brian Strand 4 or 5 line Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Date: 04-08-2021
PLACE : 1st
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