You are the source of my soul.
The colour of my blood.
The lilt of my accent.
The waves of the ocean.
The wind of the night.
The beginning and the ending of me.
Your craters moulded the depth of my eyes.
Your dust painted the colour of my skin.
Your light kissed my body to life.
I am utterly devoted to your illumination.
Years after my separation to you, on this beautiful land I recognised you for the first time. We talked for hours until dawn and from that day on, you never left.
And I never forgot.
Your residual filled my lungs and your orbiting holes of light hummed through my veins.
I lit up, stardust and moondust shimmering within my roots, giving me a sense of faded nostalgia and a déjà vu that acknowledged you.
You were my home.
You are my home.
My place of origin.
My place of birth.
My place of creation.
I am a child of the cosmos.
A devotee to the universe.
A skin of stars.
A heart outweighing gravity.
A loyal disciple, belonging only to you.
I am an angel of the moon.
And I will end where I once began.
For even in my ending, I belong solely to you.
The case of birth can’t be explained
It’s worth for its own sake
Same goes for place of birth we gain
One time we just awake
And there we are, blazed by the light
Most usually, we cry
Not of the joy, but of the fright
That one day we shall die
And then again unconsciousness
Delivers us to earth
But soon we leave, back to this mess
Just by the case of birth.
Leaving their land of birth
Lions, sages, tuskers go far,
There and there die in home and hearth--
Crows, cowards, herbivores as are.
____________________________
Sanskrit Translation | 18.01.2026 | birth, brave, far, home/hearth, quatrain
Note: Some quatrains called shlokas in Sanskrit are known as Subhaashhitams, words well-said. The brave and brave-hearts venture far from their place of birth and prosper. Those fearful that not, die there and there. The beasts of hunting so brave command lager territories. Those eager to learn go far and get more knowledge and wisdom (sat-purushhaah). Travel was the way in olden days.
Deshan utsrjya gacchanti
sinhaah sat-purushaah gajaah |
Tatra eva nidhanam yaanti
kaakaah kaa-purushaah mrgaah || Subhaashhitam ||
In every heart, a silent plea,
For love, for truth, for liberty.
No chain should bind, no voice be stilled,
No dream denied, no blood be spilled.
From every shore, the echoes call,
That freedom’s light must shine for all.
Each child born beneath the sun,
Deserves a world where wrongs are none.
Human rights — our common thread,
For all who live, for all who bled.
No color, creed, nor place of birth,
Can change the measure of one’s worth.
Peace is not a whispered prayer,
But hands that heal, and hearts that care.
It blooms where justice finds its place,
And hatred yields to love’s embrace.
So let us rise, both strong and kind,
With hope and courage intertwined.
For when all people stand as one,
The dawn of peace has just begun.
A terrible thing we had of it.
A treacherous sight indeed.
The day undisclosed longing to be forgotten.
A jobite non the less.
The death of a sinner an abomination
His death sought redemption.
Redemption!!! Redemption built on the blood of the innocent.
Fueled by fear of the unknown.
Rejected in the land of his birth.
Rejected by this scornful people.
He journey's to a land void of hate and fear.
He journey's to a land full of gold mines.
He sourjuns in land of the unknown.
He sourjuns among the Romans.
Calamity stroke without warning.
Calamity stroke with a nine mouth-whip.
Return he must to his place of birth.
Return he must to this scornful place.
He returns fearful of rejection.
He returns fearful of hate.
But finds peace in this lions den
But find's solace among this wolves dressed as sheep.
Thus, this sad tale finds a happy ending.
Thus , the life of "An Alien".
I am guilty for the nation
I’ve no business to the world
In a play of no sensation
I’m a prompter of one word
Who would share a consolation
For the character of mine
I’m a proof of antination
Well disjointed from the time
Mental tenant of the era
Of the sixties – seventies
I’m that boy who smashed the mirror
It was fun to see it splits
Fatherland and motherland
I just can't relate to both
I belong to Nowhere land
That’s my real place of birth
That’s my peace, my joy and sorrow
Nowhere home, and garden I
Used to know, meet no tomorrow
Only yesterdays comply
Nowhere woman, nowhere man
Doing all the best we could
Stayed together till the end
Till it has become too good
I’m no more applied to this
My Arcadia I’ve seen
I’m a question you would diss
There’s no answer in the wind
I’m a petal of her rose
Orphan of the dying breed
I have loved, and loved I was
What I know I doubt you need
It's not that luxurious solitude you can choose against a background of sea or desert, a mythological desolation like in Antonioni's film, with that subtle taste of beautiful hopelessness in the subliminal search for identity that ends with a shotgun.
That's not the case in Cainland.
It's the loneliness of exile into the reduced self, into the emptiness of cutting all ties, and your so-called identity is whatever progressive humanity wants to see, but it's always not you. .
You have to deal with another kind of existentialism, just breathe, and while you're alive, carry on if you can, or if you can't, no one will notice, including yourself.
No press screening, this movie was financed with dirty money stained with oily fingerprints.
The working title was Cursed for the Place of Birth, but in the final version it was changed to Exiled - a less dramatic, more conventional title.
The rare audience watched apathetically in silence, distracted from time to time by the flickering of their cell phones they couldn't resist reacting.
One drunk laughed at the end.
She sings her heart out
Every night at the club
He brings down the house
With melodies of God's perfect love
She opens her purse
To anyone in need
He runs a ministry
That continually feeds
...the hungry
Hungry, everyone's hungry
.............Hungry, HUNGRY....hippo
Starving souls seek solace
A balance between operations
Realms of gods and men
For protection, offerings of libations
Power and control of the unknown
For fear of the finality of death
Hope in the Resurrection
For the chance of breath
...return
A system anew, arises
One of the old, laid to final rest
Where followers on both sides
Place peace on power's vest
No more up and down
Condescension pressing worth
All of LOVE's children
Move in their place of birth
...accordingly
Music......can you hear the MUSIC
................SINGING SALVATION SETTLED SLAVERY
Written by Trudy Schrader on 02-19-2024
No matter the country we were born in
We're all inhabitants of earth
Maybe ashamed to admit it sometimes
Our much treasured place of birth
Since time began we've battled each other
For what I haven't a clue
Just look around at the beauty you see
An astounding vista we view
Is there something this old guy is missing
Am I alone in my love of living
Am I a lonely voice in the wilderness
This land is so forgiving
We abuse it and misuse it every damn day
This God given paradise we share
Disgusting behaviour is being exhibited
Destroying our planet without care
Certainly not fair for us peace loving souls
Our cries for love go unheeded
But surely we shouldn't give up the fight
Some common decency is needed
Maybe before my day is finally done
Paradise will finally be at hand
When all good people of our dear planet earth
Will as one each treasure this land
it is as though
they saw my beauty,
full and radiant
lasted only in the
rich soil i was born in.
so they picked me and
stomped the roots dry.
one survived
nature nourished it
with love.
we are the race,
the only race,
forever searching for
our place of birth.
No matter the country you were born in
We're all inhabitants of earth
Maybe ashamed to admit it sometimes
Our much treasured place of birth
Since time began, we've battled each other
For what... I haven't a clue
Just look around at the beauty you see
An astounding vista we view
Is there something this old guy is missing
Am I alone in my love of living
Am I a lonely voice in the wilderness
This land is so forgiving
We abuse it and misuse it every damn day
This God given paradise we share
Disgusting behaviour is being exhibited
Destroying our planet without care
Certainly not fair for us peace loving souls
Our cries for love go unheeded
But surely we shouldn't give up the fight
Some common decency is needed
Maybe before my day is finally done
Paradise will finally be at hand
When all good people of our dear planet earth
Will as one, each treasure this land
Could there be vast realms of unknown nebulae
Beyond the farthest reaches of space exploration,
Only distant patches of gray density in distant sky
Giving discussion to theories of unending cogitation?
This expanding universe appears to go on forever
In space and time beyond our beleaguered experience,
Encouraging us to think we are more than clever
Who postulate on the fringes of common sense.
Have we hosted strange visitors from that outer space
Unbeknownst except in myriad tales of lore
From those who witness in various and sundry place
Eerie phenomena and UFOs never seen before?
We might suppose, despite unconfirmed evidence,
That taken altogether something seems amiss
Some purportedly real but have no precedence,
And most of us do not know what to think of this!
For sure, the universe is vast and holds the key,
Perhaps, to the future of every living thing on earth
It behooves us to explore, to boldly go and see
What lies beyond our horizons, our place of birth.
HONORABLE MENTION
"It's a Big, Big, Big World" Poetry Contest
All Poetry, September 13, 2021
He turns words in to lyrics
Emotions into vowels and nouns
Feeling into verse
He’s a words and music alchemist
A sprinkle of angst
A chorus that would make the angels sing
A phrase that’s stays in your mind
He’s a words and music alchemist
He whispers to your soul
Plays with your brain
Touches your heart
He’s a words and music alchemist
Music is a language
We all can understand
Regardless of your place of birth.
He’s a song writer. An alchemist.
We are not the best judge of our worth
God’s attention is for this alone
That we find our vocation on the earth
Clearly some are born with a grave curse
Others have been keen to cast sharp stones
We are not the best judge of our worth
Accidents of time, of place, of birth
Lack of vision,nowhere to call home
Disrupt the virtue of our life on earth
Important it may be to enjoy mirth
To laugh at our pretensions, grin and groan
We are not the best judge of our worth
There is no linear scale. we should not stress
Some may discern value we don’t know
Acceptance is the aim of life on earth
And when we’re stricken by a heavy blow
Inside our little hearts is one who knows
We are not the best judge of our worth
We must love and work to heal the earth
We are not the best judge of our worth
God’s attention is for this alone
That we find our vocation on the earth
Clearly some are born with a grave curse
Others have been keen to cast sharp stones
We are not the best judge of our worth
Accidents of time, of place, of birth
Lack of vision,nowhere to call home
Disrupt the virtue of our life on earth
Important it may be to enjoy mirth
To laugh at our pretensions, grin and groan
We are not the best judge of our worth
There is no linear scale. we should not stress
Some may discern value we don’t know
Acceptance is the aim of life on earth
And when we’re stricken by a heavy blow
Inside our little hearts is one who knows
We are not the best judge of our worth
We must love and work to heal the earth
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