Father and the Boy or (Ah ah aah yeah!)

Father, father no, don’t do this to me

Come, come my child, I am your father

Come give it to me,

No, no, father, I am only seven you see

Come, come here, lord’s home is where you should be,

And I am here too!

Come let me thrust some blessing into you,

Ah ah aah yeah! Jerk a little more my boy,

I’m your father after all, don’t be so coy

Aah aah, ah yeah! The father came with a burst of joy,

Don’t tell anyone of the secret blessing

I have bestowed on you, you boy!

And come again when I call

Father asked the child,

The blessed boy bled from the strike of spear

But did come again to father in fear,

And did so until he was fifteen,

For the father had stopped blessing him anymore,

He loved kids below sixteen.

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The Fool

The yellow moon in an orange, and the smoke on the streets
He saw the bodies and heard sobs and screams
The dame by the alley, and the widow by the broken window
Rich men’s pride and the naked monk’s wisdom
The mighty facades, and the stink of secrets buried within,
Though neglected these facets of life passed
From the edge of his grave, the fool smiled, as he saw it all.

An unmarried mother, a doped brother
The pretty girl singing requiems,
He saw pointless wars, and sacred propagandas
The fat belly’s of ageing sailors, and the whitening brow of losing fathers,
He saw people who became friends and the strangers who lost themselves to trends,
The breeze sang and waves roared
The stars burned, planets turned, and galaxies shattered themselves off existence, forever
Men and women succumbed to their desirous lives
While, from the edge of his grave, the fool saw it all.

People to Talk to

I am looking for people,
To talk to,
I don’t step out every other weekend
But that does not mean I am an introvert,
Don’t assume so that I cannot,
But I fail to find people I would want to go out with.
People whom I could talk to in rhymes,
People who have a stable heart and an open mind,
People who are not chained to the bells
Not scared of their chimes.
I’m searching for people
Who are ambitious but not blind,
Who are brave at heart and though they believe in fear
Are ready to give up everything,
even themselves for their dreams,
I want to meet those dreamers, the mad hatter’s, and the insane jokers.
People who want to grasp every star in the sky,
But don’t mind if they don’t.
I am looking for people
With capability to probe a million bizarre ideas,
Yet free from influence except their own,
People who intend to grow forever
And yet never outgrow
For people who are more than what they show.

Man with the Telescope

Man with the Telescope
At the terrace he stood,
I saw from mine,
Amidst the wind's constant slaps
and the silence of the moon-less night,
He set up a strange contraption,
which lured towards the sight.

And by the time, by him I stood 4ceabbd82a44dae58c912afb349470b5
He had set the device on a stand 
with its end pointed at the sky,
Restless, and curious, I asked ' What is this that you have here? If you could tell me kind sir'
He said 'It is an invention called telescope'
Its purpose: to bring that is far right up to your nose.'

'Awww!' was all that it inspired
That wondrous invention of man,
But then again curiosity-struck
I inquired of his plan,
He said that he was there at the terrace
to have a closer glimpse of skies and its endless dark span.

Amazed again by his reply 
and his urge to gauge the dark,
'Why do you do so?', I asked
with a new and restless mind
He said 'For in the darkness only can we hope to find light'
'And in the darkness only, can we all be un-blind.'

 

A cold stream of consciousness

I don’t know what is happening to me

I am undergoing a transformation

only that I have no idea about it’s result

A cluelessness keeps whirling in my head

as my thoughts oscillate between myself and the world

A confusion whether to bother about myself

or the worries of the world

Whether to express my self

Or speak up for the world

And it further becomes difficult

when you have no one to listen

Also, the people who are present

and claim to listen

barely understand anything

Words have different meaning to different people

life has different meaning to different people

I am scared to speak

because people who claim to listen misinterpret

And suppose a single person

gets the idea right

and then hopes or expects more from me

what will I do then

If I dragged my neighbour out of his bed

at this midnight hour

asked him to solve my dilemma

he would probably kill me

But is bothering about the society a crime

Is speaking up for the people

the injustice done to them weird

Old fashioned some might say

Should we squeeze ourselves

into our lives and just care about it

But if you stand for a cause

and people begin to follow

they would certainly have expectation

But how would you know

what they expect

Is it the same thing that they want too

or do they want you to do something for their ambitions

They are here now walking behind you

But will find them in the hollow

In chains we are all bound

I see the devil dancing around

And the angels have nowhere to escape to

All the temple doors closed down

people finding solace in poison insanity and death

Summer rainy winter all seasons cold

Such cursed land where widows are sold

Riots all around sponsored and then protested

Lies diffused in the air truth resisted

Life now seems a terrible affliction