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Thursday, September 13, 2012

The One In Which Gulliver Is Bored and Calls Newton for Advice




Destiny washed Gulliver up on the shores of the island nation, Lilliput, a kingdom ruled by minuscule intellectuals.

Gulliver’s ship was wrecked during his long voyage. Floating on a rotting plank, he was desperately seeking terra firma. It was a blessing that the tropical storm that thrashed him one night also deposited him on the shores of Lilliput.

Saturday, September 08, 2012

Donkey Donuts

The guy who brings donuts is popular.

He may not have any talents or skills, but if the organization is big enough, he'll rise high.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Call It a Day

And before I know it is time
For me to call it a day
Eyelids laden with sleep
Consider the passage of age:
“What transpired today that stood out
In the backdrop of yesterday?”

The day was like any
Of the six others that make a week
Like a uniformly drawn rainbow
Of seven white bands
A single bright bow
Stretching from peak to peak

An urban, mechanical truth
Of things zipping past in a blur
Work and business not stopping
To say hello and chat
To look at one's feet and smile
In deeply satisfying wonder

Days, like granules of white sugar
Melt in the stove of eternity
And all that is left floating
Is a memory caramelized
That questions the fickle faith
Of terrestrial fraternity

Ask the guardians of chronology,
"What happened of the day?"
They say, "We don't know,"
"It turned into a week!"
"And what about the week?"
"We can't say," they say

"It turned into a month!"
"And where did the month stray?"
They say, "Well, it seems,"
"It is now a whole year!"
And before you know it is time
For the year to call it a day

Monday, June 11, 2012

In the City Zoo

In the city zoo.

Look out the tiny cage
Of my personal space.

Listlessly. Aimlessly.
Fed and burped.

Millions of visitors.
Unlisted Exhibit, I.

Survey around to find
Animals of hues all.

Living in content cages
Of their personal spaces.

Millions of residents.
Don't see, don't hear.

Don't need.
Don't want.

Eating, drinking, mating.
Eating some more...some more.

In cages of personal spaces.
Aimlessly. Listlessly.

In the city zoo.

Friday, June 01, 2012

Put Some Water Out


It's hot!
Burning hot!

Seared senses perceive only mirages
as the sun rains down fire with a vengeance.
Wind, like invisible flames, licks the very soul of beings.
The horizon looks close and far.
The destination seems unknown, unachievable.

Put some water out..

For thirsty of the earth,
the birds, animals and people without shelter,
whom god has forgotten today.

Put some water out..

For the parched of love,
who never got a full cup
from the vessel of life.

Put some water out..

For there is a drought of hope
in this conflicted city-state
of harsh realities.

Put some water out..

For that seed buried deep
in the bosom of the fertile
may sip and reach out.

It's hot!
Put some water out..

Friday, May 11, 2012

Éphémère

Today
A single blank page
In a one-paged journal

One spotless page
For today, only today

To be filled with words
That lived today
For today, only today

A journal that will be discarded
Into the invisible sea of yesterday
Tonight

Sunday, April 08, 2012

The Emperor's Old Clothes

Hey, look, an emperor of fate's define!
Say, his jacket's made of cloth so fine!

Cloth so fine as invisible fumes
Spun in complex, convoluted looms

Dressed in that finery and arms outstretched
In the middle of a square, an enormous spread

The subjects look at him as an object of amuse
With kaleidoscopic eyes, they see what they choose

So, while he's all naked as the day he was born
Some see a chimera and some see just porn

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Question of the Sinner Stomach

Burning eyes and shallow my breath.
A knocking buzz constant my head.
Revolting against inertia deathly,
Limbs, spine, heart and belly.
The brain begs and begs for mercy.
I put foot down--ever so gently,
"Just a few more hours and we'll be done."
"One last push and this'll be won."
But, we are here, in an interrogation room.
Not being bailed out anytime soon.
Tortured beings out of tired souls,
Bleeding away from minute holes.
Struggling away with a question plum--
"Where's the next meal coming from?"

Thursday, February 02, 2012

The Communion of Rocks


I was once drafted
Into a communion of rocks.
There was a war out there
Between various pointless blocs.

A war between rocks,
Rocks dumb and inflamed.
They fought with words,
empty words that blamed.

A rookie soldier, I,
Among leaders of rank nonsense.
It all seemed alien to me—
Somewhat touchy and tense.

And on the battlefield
Of halls lined with chairs,
Armies met across mahogany,
And oak and pine squares.

Rocks of all denominations—
Jagged, smooth, big and small,
Glared at each other
Eyeball to eyeball.

Then bang-bang of sentences,
And boom-boom of exclamations.
It was a foreign tongue!
A lingo of an unknown nation.

A language or battle cry—
No one understood a word.
There were pauses and periods,
But the meaning was blurred.

Yet everyone spoke it,
Simultaneously and separately.
Some nodded agreement,
Some disagreed vehemently.

No one attempted to
Figure a word that was flung.
Who was I to question—
A pawn on the lowest rung.

What are we fighting for?
Who are we aiming at?
What will be the casualties?
What will come of that?

Words were screaming inside me,
Gnawing their way out of my brain.
I numbed the seething agony
With an overdose of refrain.

I was invisible to the rocks—
A speck of dust at best.
Little did they discern
Of the turmoil inside my breast.

As I stood on a cliff
Of fiery, incandescent rage,
A question raised its hand—
Should I or shouldn’t I engage?

The inferno glowed bright
And spot lit a strange wisdom.
Something that could assuage
My deepening conundrum.

You see, the communion of rocks
Is a meditation of sorts—
Of sitting still and quiet
In a sea storm of retorts.

Of not getting lost
In a garden maze of baloneys.
Of keeping your faith intact
In the cacophony of phonies.

With a few simple scars
I came out of that battle.
Ready to be herded to the next one
Like simple, innocent cattle.