Sunday, 12 May 2013

Let's secure the pact of prosperity.

Surgical intensity cuts deep affliction
for the prose of mud diminishing fertility

the infatuation of poetry seeped in
                        long ago
perhaps, that is the reason to underline
              pick up your pen
                       and wipe her tears off 

     the tear floats like dust in sunlight
     you don't care to see the pain it inflicts
     to the season and change the barren land bear
Old song depict the solitude of the sun
lingering golden verses of isolated words
            Can we paint new decisions
                      to save this land from annihilation

Perhaps not;
her limbs are poor
with no blood to bid
             the pain she suffered
             to build the strong barks
             to settle her sorrow
             in the natures bosom
     and cry her pain in silence within
                 the plain beauty where she will find peace

But faces are different each time
           once white with glow of innocence
           later dark with the cream of

Dive into the masses with your words of wisdom
          Nonsense, when words can sow distance
          but this ain't philosophy to inflict

          but, to act upon with the desire of

O, they say
           the land ain't our's to rescue
           for nothing reaps profit into our pocket!

Say, gentlemen!
                 The world you step
                 ain't yours then!
                      this ain't your property
                      to save the riches
                      and close eyes to the poor

This place ain't something from your desire
                 not form your womb to the
                 shelter for your fat brains!

This land belong to all
                if you breath nature's breath
                if you eat that is nature's fruit
                if you drink nature's sweat

Do you ponder?
are you perplexed?

At the greater level of achievement
               nature reap without you!
And you who- destroy;
               says- this ain't mine!

Pity your brain for the fart of money
              and not intelligent for your ass who
              reap profit sitting on mother's lap!

Pick out your ink
The paper that can scribble your rights
now let the ink flow to the nib
            your poetry
All that you can
           to save her from the hurdles
           with your soft words of adulation
           let's make her believe
                     we are one
           for her
                    for them
                               for us!