We stand like statues of hunger-
Ticket numbers for halos,rationed dreams.
The queue curves like a funeral procession,
Every sigh a shovel stroke in invincible graves.
The air smells of waiting,the walls of wet wool.
We hum hymns to the god of "Next!",
And the floor creaks under our collective shame.
While sharing the ride
and not a lot to see or do
seated side by side
in the Chunnel queue
with commuters driving home
I took a look at the view
carpool tunnel vision syndrome
This week is bleak, the birds don’t sing
No sun, no rains, but greyness
Even the churchbells didn’t ring
Have they become atheists
The bellman and the bearded dean
And all the congregation?
In times like this to breathe is sin
No promise of salvation
Can take away the truth it fakes
And like a stubborn stem
Grows through the slab, the truth condemns
The order of the damned
So atheism’s a way to go
Believe in politicians
They must continue this old show
Which you can call fictitious
But wasn’t it meant to be as such?
Just ask the God, if you
Don’t think he is disturbed too much
With millions in the queue
That stretches out through centuries
Dead people want to know
What were their lives about, if this
Was meant to be a show
Beware the Ides of March, in case
The warning comes in time
If there is still a time to waste
You doubt it? So do I.
A creative urge arises
It’s origin to us unknown
Grace in-pours through heart’s open door
Ushering blissful surprises
Focus peaks, rose in bloom full blown
Spoken of in awe in folklore
Divine ignition continues
It’s renewal continual
Where we’re a humble receptor
Witnessing how rapture renews
Here and now, in life’s pulse dual
Bliss piercing each body vector
As we burn in mind-body urn
Our soul thus ascends, out of turn
There was an old lady who stood in a queue
Where the queue led to I hadn’t a clue
So I don’t know why she was stood in the queue
And if I don’t know, then neither do you
The queue started moving one step now and then
Once in a while it would move ahead ten
I still don’t know why she was stood in the queue
And if I don’t know, then neither do you
It turns out that this was a charity queue
Intended to help the impoverished few
But why would an old lady stand in this queue
I truly don't know, so neither do you
I’m not an intrusive, inquisitive guy
She’s licking her lips and I want to know why
The old lady’s now near the front of the queue
If I don’t know why, then neither do you
I needed to know what the lady’s about
She might be confused and I had to find out
I joined her as she crept along with the queue
The old lady spoke, and I suddenly knew…
“I’m not so old; eighty years and a few,
and Sonny, I feel a lot younger than you.
I’m told there are men at the head of this queue,
It’s a dollar a kiss, and I’m having two.”
How happy the dogs are to find a tree.
Raising one leg, what fun it is to pee.
They look a disciplined crew.
All are lined up in a queue.
When all are done, a flowing stream you’ll see!
THE QUEUE
It looks like a male at that yew.
I’m surprised: don’t know about you.
For I’ve always thought
That, when taken short,
It’s only the women that queue
With massive boobs in bra of Saphire blue
She is indeed voluptuous to view
To feel her seductive love
And make her their hottie dove
Men vie with each other standing in queue
Queue, in my nation, is a customary circumstance,
Women, each day, stand in queues for municipal water;
Young and old, before government ration stores, stand in trance,
Youths, with diplomas, stand in queues for the imprimatur...!
Banks have long queues and the A.T.M counters have no less,
One could find, in front of Public Washrooms, the longest queues;
Sure, one could read on the faces of those in queues, big stress,
Yet, in a system where there is no system, can one choose...?
As queue has become part of our life we seldom anguish,
We have accepted and resigned to this fate, merrily;
We make friends with the one near us and, hence, never languish,
We take, hence, our physical and psychic aches airily...!
Though an imminent evil, queue teaches me endurance,
This, in turn, molds me and brings to life a vast difference...!!!
If one is sick and in a long queue,
One needs some guy’s immediate rescue.
No challenging one with “it’s my turn”.
What if it’s a bad case of Heartburn?
Let The Sick grab your earned position,
As you make it Quickest Decision!
If one should drop dead from your stern ‘No!’,
Watchers would The Ruthless in you know…
Yet, who is sick and in a long queue
Should know another mission is due:
His many needs reduce to ‘A few’
More focussing on Medical Crew.
DQ
IQ
GQ
All have something in common
Dig?
Where’s the paid watcher of my Jerry can
And who the hell just bounded it off,
My face now a hotter frying pan,
Never to learn how to absorb a bluff?
Lame excuses I don’t fail a wheel chair
And their givers try to not spare:
These days’ lies changed like robes
By lips doubly sure no listener probes...
Because kerosene is involved
And its worries not easily solved...
Tales in powder soaked to veil their rashes,
No recalls of Dust to Dust, Ashes to Ashes…
Should I forget haven woken up at 4:00 AM
For a heart gladdening position in a snaky queue
And the pains taken to phone a Clem
For my Jerrycan to be preceded by just a few
Stiff-necked, refusing a morning bath
After picking the consequences from Simple Math?
A handsome man from Peru,
Found himself in a stew,
He had no money,
Which isn't funny,
So he had to join the dole queue
Who would relaxed smiles flash,
In a longish queue,
And not later think it a bit rash?
I tell you “a Discouraging Few”,
And am willing to stake good cash!
It had been an intolerance far from new,
Not just by The Brash,
By whom, at home, had left a waiting stew,
By the nobility, for example, Prince Nash,
But also by the scared that some guy in the queue,
Had meddled with some filthy trash,
And just caught flu!
Still, it’s a gross dislike for the exact moments,
Things are due,
Ahead of them vomiting the comments
Of persons whose forefathers had raised a hue,
Over claimed injustices that lacked a clue,
But into a wild rage still flew.
In the sunshine circular tales in queue
Silence sits on them to seek some pleasure
Sees how flies off from deep green leaves the dew
Running after blue scented looks of her
By the side of cascade I wash my face
With turquoise water from your deep dimples
Your rabbits and my rhymes are in the race
Their love casts shadows so pure and simple
In this red and green whispers where are you
Do you ply the swing where children jingle
Are blended in milky white clouds of blue
Where one evening I'll mingle with your hue
Now as the sun smiles and sips from soft blue
In these hills of mist, I indeed miss you
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