Where the mind is in fear

Where the mind is in fear

and the head is in gloom and pain

Where knowledge is enslaved

Where the world is being broken up into fragments

By narrow domestic walls

Where words come out from manufactured lies

Where hollow praises and gloating attain puerile crescendo

Where the stream of reason is a muddy quicksand

In the dreary desert sand of dead habit

Where the mind is led forward by coterie

Into submission and eternal flattery

Into this hell bent fiefdom, dear father

let not this country awake.

Why is the world we live in, unfair



Why is the world we live in, unfair

Sitting in luxury, high over the road

Inside my car, blowing cool conditioned air

Driven around my town, life passing by

Looking thru the window, hidden i spy

Honk blaring, the driver guns thru traffic

Weaving left then right, gifting an odd scare

The window, insulates me with its pane

Insecure within, but allowing me to feign

Soon i notice, my neighbor, just outside

On a bike, in the bus, or just standing there

I shiver and shudder, at the sheer vulgarity

Its loud and clear, no evading the disparity

Blood for blood, we are just the same

Shame builds inside me, tellingly unfair

 There's someone outside, not that fortunate

And could this be passed, as a quirk of fate

Grant me this, when i discern these things

That i be able, willing to help and care

Guide me then, to quit thinking and act

Count my blessing, and go make some impact

Lest i forget

A candle lit held high,  

Honouring the dead

Stood a silent forty seconds, 

Paying homage the martyred

Posts of scorn on facebook

I demand my revenge

Forwards on whatsapp

Want my pound of flesh, to avenge 

 

Soldiers and people killed

Where's the justice I yell

Anger rages deep inside

All thats required, one bombshell

Tiring, its mid-day at work

Messages and posts repeat

My stomach churns, damn

Got to run, forgot the biryani treat

 

Modern Age

Modern Age

Supposedly, we live in a modern age

Where technology, information is the rage

Everyone, seems to know everything

Knowledge fountains, on every internet page

No matter, what we read, hear or observe

Blurred lines, separating the true from false

People they see, what they want to see

No time to question, or find some sense

Right against Left, we fight one another

Nation, people divided, brother against brother

A majority, discontent with sacrifices made

The rest stay quiet, uneasy midst this pother

Democracy we claim, many privileges we wave

A choir full of voices, unity in diversity we rave

Choked, suffocated and masked to a murmur

Sanity silenced, shaming people to behave

Mercy and peace, brotherhood and respect

Oft acquiesced, or all of it very suspect

An ogre inhuman, biting hands that fed

Teary trail of blood, all thats left to inspect

Shooting, lynching like there is war to wage

Shouting rioting mobs, very difficult to gauge

Everything, is now local and very very vocal

Surely, this must be signs of a modern age

Poem Hunter (Modern Age). Inspired from Modern Times by Bobby Sands

I am...

I am straight
I am gay
I am trans
I am les
I am homosexual
I am hetrosexual
I am black
I am white
I am woman
I am jew
I am muslim
I am christian
I am buddhist
I am hindu
I am dalit
I am brahmin
I am chinese
I am polish
I am nigerian
I am irish
I am catholic
I am sunni
I am sikh
I am poor
I am illiterate
I am underprivileged
I am ...
I am not ....


I am human
I am you
And when roles are reversed,
You are I

I am what you dont know.
I am not any different, than you.
Know me and when i know you,
We can overcome this I vs You.

- Poem Hunter (I am)

Feku on a Lala Trip

 Feku on a Lala Trip

Child rape all over the place
But Feku’s on a lala trip

Angry people the only saving grace

Tho’ Feku’s on a lala trip

His sangh shouts a god’s name
While Feku’s on a lala trip
Polarizing, its all a shame
But Feku’s on a lala trip

Shah & men execute his evil plan
With Feku on a lala trip
Usurping states, agencies they can
While Feku’s on a lala trip

Baba and Yogi running the roost
‘cause Feku’s on a lala trip

Bhakts ‘n Cows all getting a boost
While Feku’s on a lala trip

Indians now, hating each other

Divided communalized, Brother vs brother

Its becoming difficult to live on,
Blood spilling and being spilt on

Year ago he sucked out the cash
For Feku’s lil lala trip
demonetization, it left a big gash
With Feku’s lil lala trip

Was all that money we made last year
For Feku on a lala trip?
How come there ain't no money here?
Hmm! Feku’s on a lala trip

You know I just about had my fill
Of Feku and his lala trip

Maybe that’s just that magic pill
Join Feku on his lala trip

My poem, inspired and or an imiation based of the song by Gil Scott-Heron's "Whitey On The Moon". The poem or song, Whitey on the Moon, appeared in his 1970 album, in the background of the 1969 Moon landing. It attempted to characterized the achievement juxtaposed with the racial divide on the ground.

Today's India is not very different. Space Launches, IPL, Gold Medals, Thousands of Crores in Corruption, Financial Bungling, Tallest and taller Statues, and Lala Foreign Trips

Parding your beggon, Kister Monductor !!

These two lines i recalled from my days at school. But didnt remember much else. All i remember was that the poem we learnt, rather say we read, was very funny. And "Kister Monductor", was a phrase thrown about for sometime.

Thanks to the WWW, all of the world's library is available to you at the click of a few buttons on the keyboard. And lo and behold, i stumble upon "The Muddlehead".

The Muddlehead - ( Ogden Nash )

I knew a man from Petushkee
As muddleheaded as could be.

He always got mixed up with clothes;
He wore his mittens on his toes,
Forgot his collar in his haste,
And tied his tie around his waist.

What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!

They told him as he went about:
"You've got u'r coat on inside out!"
And when they saw his hat, they said:
"You've put a saucepan on your head!"

What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!

At lunch he scratched a piece of bread,
And spread some butter on his head.
He put his walking stick to bed,
And he stood in the rack instead.

What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!

He walked upto a tram one day
And climbed in very sprightly;
Conductor thought that he would pay,
Instead he said politely:

"Parding your beggon,
Kister Monductor,
I'm off for a week's vacation;
I stop you to beg your cramway tar
As soon as we reach the station."
Conductor got a fright
And didn't sleep that nite.

What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!

He rushed into the first café:
"A railway ticket please, One way."
And at the ticket office said:
"A slice of tea and a cup of bread."

What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!

He passed the man collecting the fares,
And entered a carriage awaiting repairs,
That stood on a siding, all by itself.
Half of his luggage, he put on a shelf,
The rest on the floor, his coat on his lap
And settled himself for a bit of a nap.

All at once he raised his head,
"I must have been asleep"- he said.
"Hey, what stop is this?" he cried
"Petushkee," a voice replied.

Once again he closed his eyes
And dreamt he was in Paradise.
When he woke, he looked about,
Raised the window and leaned out.

"I've seen this place before, I believe,
Is it Kharkov or is it Kiev?
Tell me where I am," he cried.
"In Petushkee", a voice replied.

And so again he settled down
And dreamt the world was upside down
When he woke, he looked about,
Raised the window and looked out.

"I seem to know this station too,

Is it Nalchik or Baku?
Tell me what its called," he cried.
"Petushkee' a voice replied.

Up he jumped: "It's a crime!
I've been riding all this time,
And here I am where I began!
That's no way to treat a man!'

What a muddle head was he,
That man who lived in Petushkee!

These words, now are more accessible to me. And i can come back here to check the lines of one of the more likable poems i have read.

Pondering

What could she be thinking about ?

sitting lonely on a bench
many thoughts come to mind
specially the tough ones
that put me in such a bind

pondering for a moment here
like that fountain up ahead
wish i could shoot my problems
way, straight out of my head

My Flickr - photostream

Tags: pondering, flickr+cksquare, poem
Poem Hunter (Pondering)