Yet man assumes superiority that he doesn’t have.
Man can’t win despite numerous experimentation.
When will man start respecting nature
That has given him all good while he inputs bad!
THERE’VE TO BE A STOP
I can’t wait for you to finish me;
I’ll run to the edge of the world
If that’s what it takes to be free
From tormentors of human epoch.
I’m not worn thread from old clothing
Or weak rope from constant tethering;
I’m not salt to dissolve in water
Or chalk to disintegrate to dust.
Even if you create a cul de sac
I’ll break the barrier and escape
For I’ll not give you a chance
To break me like dry twigs.
I’m not worn thread from old clothing
Or weak rope from constant tethering
I’m not salt to melt in water
Or chalk to disintegrate to dust.
This is not prison where I’m guarded
Daily like grains from vermin
I have a life to live so
Get off my back and let me be.
I’m not worn thread from old clothing
Or weak rope from constant tethering
I’m not salt to melt in water
Or chalk to disintegrate to dust.
Oh, let me be
Oh, let me breathe
You know it’s my right to live.
“HE IS OURS”
The most beautiful and telling intro came
From a mother of three, one morning.
Watching her hubby go for her paycheck
To meet family pressing obligations of the day,
She told her newest colleague with certainty-
“He is ours.”
And no arguments ensued
For she handed the check freely and happily
And resumed work fulfilled and relieved.
The understanding was deep and cordial
For the oath circulated in her blood as she said-
“He is ours.”
He went and did the needful and by evening
He was back to collect her and their offspring
As she looked satisfied and loyal
And he looked accomplished
While receiving them and her words echoed-
“He is ours.”
And there was truth in those words
For he looked and acted ‘theirs’
In every inch of him, as he spoke
Gently while caring for them.
To the car he led them, opened and closed all doors.
He is truly theirs.
TREACHERY
Wonders will never cease
For pain in the joints, invited ‘doctors’
Whose remedies astound to today
For arthritis isn’t finale, it’s merely disabling.
Who knows not rodents' bait
Whose action is full stop?
A ‘good’ contact recommended it
Like she was a rat to be silenced forever.
Defiance saved her for she laughed it off
And refused to comply to given instructions
On what to do with ingredients to be purchased
Masqueraded as a remedy.
Three times he emailed
And three times he called
Full of persuasion as a 'good' ally
Claiming he was among regiment of users.
Yet, on a visit to his home for days
Revealed no signs of him
Swallowing the dreaded concoction
For the ploy was for her only.
GIVE AND TAKE
Receiving is a blessing
While donating is a virtue
One is surprising
While the other is empathy.
Give and take is beautiful
Give and take is wonderful
Give and take is fulfilling
Give and take is satisfying
Giving is humane
When the going gets tough,
But what holds you
Yet your turn could come?
Give and take is beautiful
Give and take is wonderful
Give and take is fulfilling
Give and take is satisfying
Receiving is tricky
For it’s full of shame,
But what holds you
When you are in need?
Give and take is beautiful
Give and take is fulfilling
Give and take is satisfying
Shame has no room
When you are in need
For those talking
Could end up there.
Give and take is beautiful
Give and take is wonderful
Give and take is fulfilling
Give and take is satisfying
STOP THE CYCLES
Cycles are for butterflies,
mosquitoes, guinea worms
and the like,
as nature dictates,
to propel their existence.
For man,
a cycle leads to ruin
for his super brain knows better,
but does it?
There’s no excuse
for perpetuating ugly acts
even if you suffered
or gained through them;
for two wrongs
make not a right.
Why should a child
abused as a kid
repeat the same?
Why should a child
born to thieving hands
continue the same?
Why should a child
born to drug doers
commit to the same?
Why should a child
born to alcohol abusers
pick up the same?
Why should a child
born to smoking parents
carry on the same?
Lack of guidance and bad example
are the causes of
this legacy
that debases humanity.
DESPERATION
In time of trouble
Desperation easily creeps in.
Give it not a chance
For it can surely drown you.
Look for a remedy
To quickly counteract it or
You are left seriously huffing
That can be pretty dangerous.
A close call isn’t what you aspire.
We know it will come
But it isn’t time yet,
Wake up and recharge your mind.
Desperation isn’t healthy,
Desperation isn’t all right,
Desperation can harm you,
Desperation must be fought.
THE ROUTE TO DISUNITY
New life is sweetly awesome
though birthing could be gruesome.
Mother and baby become twosome
and baby is surely handsome.
Father becomes lonesome
and relation becomes troublesome.
Parents become quarrelsome
and child is made irksome.
Father becomes fearsome
and child becomes tiresome.
Mother becomes bothersome
and child becomes wearisome.
By the time the family is foursome
the edges become worrisome.
But remember,
it doesn’t have to be somber.
Children come first
and parents create time for selves.
GREED
An oil tanker capsized not far from the seashore
Spilling crude petroleum in the sea
Hence endangering sea life.
Fishermen knowing environmental calamities
Went fishing anyway.
What greed!
Lifeless fish floating in oily water
Was dragged out of the sea anyway
And sold cheaply to fishmongers.
What greed!
Fishmongers celebrated their fortunes
And sold the fish anyway
To unsuspecting clients.
What greed!
Clients found fish
Unusually soft including bones,
But never guessed the reason.
Answering nature’s call
Was unusually strange
For oil gushed out first
And fecal matter just slipped by
Like molten lava downwards.
News came to the fore
When later media announcement
Revealed the incident at sea.
Your guess is as good as mine
As to how benefactors reacted
On being, questioned.
I KNOW I HAVE IT
I may be nothing in your eyes
but deep down, I’m somebody.
Give me a chance to explore
and find myself.
Give me a chance to experiment
and make mistakes.
Give me a chance to get exposed
and realize my possibilities.
Give me a chance to burn my fingers
and learn to be more careful.
Give me a chance to do trial and error
and come up with solutions.
Give me a chance to fall
and rise up again.
Give me a chance to prove my worth
and change my life.
Give me a chance to fulfill my dreams
and give back to society.
NOTES SCRAWLED ANYWHERE
In some quarters of society,
needs be so wanting that luck
of some means of transmission,
results in birth of sub cultures.
Sending alerts via writings
on social amenity walls,
public bathroom walls,
stores and market walls,
electric and telephone poles
and elsewhere is the norm.
That’s where sportsmen learn about
the next football, hockey matches;
whole communities read about
the next village cinemas, meetings;
and dancers get to know about
the next dances at social halls,
plus more.
All sorts of materials are used
to convey messages like
white and colored chalk,
charcoal and clay,
vegetable dies
and more.
Promotions get loud and clear.
Effect on people is so strong that
it’s the first thing some check on
on wake up time, before all else.
It’s a way of sending out fliers.
in order to plan days or weeks.
It may look like graffiti to a stranger,
but therein lies the news, information et al.
DANGERS LEFT IN THE WEBS
Excitement with Internet climaxes;
Bearing too much uncouthness
That endangers and scars lives
Beyond repair.
Internet could be the best thing ever,
Only if its use is thought thro’ sensibly
For many a times heads are lost
And the unthinkable is done.
Why should decency be sacrificed
At expense of exposure in the webs!
Why should private details be placed
In open dumpsters in the wild webs!
At times, going with the flow can’t be just
If that’s the guiding factor to actions
For the flow isn’t always right, yet
Consequences are not collective.
Pedophiles target you,
Not the flow
Scammers come after you,
Not the flow
Stalkers follow you,
Not the flow.
You do the invitation
Without coercion,
So bear the consequences
Without a tear,
For a child asking for fire,
Suffers the burning, that goes with it.
PRINCESS KATHLEEN
Named after a respected kinfolk, she
Assumed supremacy and honor to go with it;
Everything revolved around her
Twenty-four seven, three sixty-five days.
She cried out loud when
Her favorite dish was not available.
HHer roots had to sacrifice all
To get something else for her to eat.
Her only chore was going to school
For she wouldn’t lift a finger
Even on the food she alone would eat
Or wash clothes she would wear.
She was many-a-times moody
Because she wanted attention
And if she didn’t get it
She whined endlessly.
She was the tail wagging the dog
For she called the shots
And her stalks just followed
Like sheep being led to slaughter.
Her spell shadowed her siblings who
She saw as intruders in her domain
For mingling was limited
Between her and them.
Even in adulthood and marriage
The situation hardly changed
As none was openly eager to visit
And bond with her offspring.
To avoid nasty scenes and misery,
They left her alone and lived their lives
Unless she made the first move,
But still the atmosphere was never relaxed.
She could change like a chameleon and
Make one bewildered in the middle of a chat.
Keeping off was more appropriate
Up to her, demise.
FRIEND CUM FOE
You love my availability
To carry out your daily chores
For your survival depends on me.
In times of peace, I sit subdued
In any given circumstance and
Flow gracefully and gorgeously.
You hurt me many a times
By misusing me, yet in
The end, the sufferer is you.
You never stop to think of tomorrow
As you engage in wasteful theatrics
Poisonous and dangerous activities,
For you live for today,
Yet the future beckons.
I can’t do the math for you!
Your horrible behavior
And my natural madness
Do cause harm in abundance,
Yet you still don’t learn, as you cry
In the moment and forget soon after
And continue with your damage.
It’s a question of time, for my
Disappearing act is slowly in progress,
But surely, as more barrenness, catches up.
Your carelessness always hurts
As you rob tomorrow of its
Livelihood till, I’ll be, no more.
ONE DAY, THEY’LL BE TOGETHER
Situations caused the run.
Status created reasons for departure.
Circumstances dictated the flight.
Conditions propelled the going away.
Positions controlled where they lived.
State of affairs commanded no farewells.
Friends left behind jut out in the mind
like thorns on the flesh.
Absence makes missed loved ones stand out
like the highest peaks in the ranges.
Children flourish into men and women
like seedlings to crops
While, some pass on
like, whirl winds to the far-flung.
Uprooting makes them resemble
baobab trees
whose naked canopy and the roots
have no difference
for they look cold, lost and confused
as nearly everything is learned anew
like innocent babies from the womb.
THE SPIRITUAL LEADER
His pulpit exposed what
His adversaries liked to hide
And he told it loudly and clearly
For the world to know the goings-on
To allow corrections take root.
The guilty watched with clenched fits,
And planned to execute their wrath.
He was warned many a times to be mute,
But he stood firm for the voiceless
And refused to bow to whims.
A Good Samaritan overheard the chilling
Plans and told him so in public media,
Not to step his foot next door for a visit,
But he believed His Maker was with him.
A poisoned trip to a neighbor’s pulpit did it.
He journeyed anyway
And rehearsed fatality took place
And he was turned to dust untimely.