You are the most dreaded of all spiritual sages.
The doom-bringer of all ages.
Incorruptible and obedient servant.
Unhesitant even for a moment.
Heed my word my new found friend.
Wipe out my every fiend:
Only wait for my word
Before you draw your sword!
Although I know this today
That on some fateful day
You shall break this friendship,
I will abide till you take me to the next Fellowship.
Only foreigners invited
For homers are already in great attendance
At the filthiest feast of our time.
Our delicacy
Consists of the most despicable;
Numberless crates of b-r-o-k-e-n, rotten eggs
Of dead and decaying vultures.
Soup made of phlegm for appetiser;
Golden bowls of assorted excreta
And sparkling vomit-maggot blend;
With bottles of urea for dessert.
The venue is a grand brothel.
The venue is heavily packed.
The venue is hermetic.
The venue is fart-full.
Everyone eats and drinks of these
Our delicacy!
The waiters and waitresses
Are young and promising prostitutes and gigolos.
ALL NUDE!
Fangless snakes protruding from the men;
Pink, dark tunnels in between the women.
Everyone is stained everywhere
With whitish liquid substances-
Some thick, some thin.
Everyone is somewhere except Home.
We all are here:
The Clean and the Dirty;
The foetal, we and the dead-
Their corpses and the stench of their corpses
Serving as basic ingredients of our meals-
Experiencing our delicacy!
There is nowhere here to go.
There is no rush to arrive or leave.
There is neither day nor night.
The weak and hungry are in their places
Working to send their sweat to the Evil Party.
Amidst us
Few die unremarkably,
Still we ravage
Our delicacy.
Some do puke words of ice, and fire
But none pukes appropriate action.
BON APPETIT!
Probably not.
Of my humble dwelling,
Into the love of my parents-
Their best encouragement to me,
My strongest weapon.
You took me while with them
Through the deepest, darkest
Hardships of all time and
Taught me what my parents could not.
By means of experience
You taught me the very essence of
HUNGER and STARVATION
Such that I need no schooling for
The riches of tomorrow.
Bankruptcy knows no better bearer.
Poverty,
You made me display you
In private and public
And in place of the resultant embarrassment
You taught me to proudly flaunt you!
By our visitation to luxury and ease
You taught me
Diligence,
Prudence,
Philanthropy,
and,
Friendship.
Living in you has earned me
A bagful of respect from men of all walks.
Each of them leaves me with a simple remark-
YOU WILL BE GREAT.
Do you not see?
LOOK!
See for yourself today
What you have made me tomorrow!
We had our sad times, though,
And you may never know another rebel of
A pauper I was.
Happily too, we are Divorced.
But I will forever remember you.
The truth and realism I learnt
Will guide me till the end.
Finally,
Thank you for the transitory riches you showed me.
Fitting into the permanent is being quite undemanding.
When the curtains are split,
That we shall dance the dance.
The uphill dance of reconstruction:
Reviving what we can
Of all that we have destroyed.
Dancing on the rough grounds of regrets
Sharply pebbled,
Making our beds on the road full of harsh objects.
Night grooving over us its hard-feeding pinchers
And dawn its cheerless scorcher.
Down tools!
Work no more
For sins we know little!
So they say again
That men unevenly labour perpetually
For what they constantly destroy!
With the reason never clear to us
We labour back and forth
For the fruits of the fruits of our labour;
People we may never know.
In this fashioned world
They still judge my colours.
I am told that different colours
Go not together.
Green for greenish.
Black for blackish…
I am not the Maker of Colours!
The Painter
Chose to make me so;
Why worry me over that?
You who loathe these Colours
Mount these Clothes!
How much do you control to judge
Which or not goes with the other?
Must Black not be worn with White;
And Ebony and brown?
Worse still,
You contrast sky blue from deep sea blue.
What Colour separation!
If the words can stay together,
Why can not the colours?
You may ask the offspring of Colour Fusion.
Many a man is waited upon
By patient vultures to devour.
Man
Has lost her predatorship
And become the new prey.
The prevailing predator is Hunger,
Its sisters Starvation and Famine-
All three-
Ravage my helpless neighbours.
I thought we lived in a community
We called International
But it is clear we are alone.
What shame need slap our face?
What pity need cross our heart?
What plea need profit our pockets
Before we help us?
Yours sincerely,
Very Sad.
