that we are yet to become...

How much within us

The ripples go silent

To claim the pride of the height

To wear the crown of creation.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved. 260310.

A collector

Down the lonely road

My feet move on non-stop,

Heading towards the unknown

I rummaged my soul for things never known.

The rising sun yonder

Golden paint the horizon,

My eyes I leave wide open

Admiring the wonders of creation.

As my walk take me farther from the source

I remembered of my friends,

They are collectors of memorable items

From coins, stamps, antics and old photos torn by time.

Their pride and satisfaction

Shut their soul without expansion,

They know of nothing about many aspects of life

But, everything about the collectors’ items.

Life is funny; I chuckled as my walk takes me further

Many people come, and many people go

Some disappears unto nothingness

While some oblivious of nothingness.

Random musing I would call my mind’s play

For it tells me that I am a collector too,

Unbeknown to me suddenly the mind says so

And I begin to wonder if the say is true.

As my shadow grow lengthily at the back

I know that the sun is rising fast,

The heat sends perspiration all over

Soaking me in a bath unwanted.

I begin to ponder again, am I really a collector?

And my conscience always speaks better,

It says in affirmation without a second delay

                That my collection is of subtle memories

                of cloudy weather and sunny days.

My wandering goes on with much pondering

                What are those things subtle memories

                of cloudy weather and sunny days?

Again, my conscience rose from the depth of somewhere

Collections of memories good and bad I have gathered.

I realized against my conscience I cannot lie

Those are things that I carry without a second thought

A collection of memorable and painful memories.

                Yes, I am a collector of subtle memories

                of cloudy weather and sunny days.

©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 250310.

Shame on human superiority

The hallmark of adamant superiority

To determine the way for the inferior force.

Desolate feelings

Strewn all over the air

Stench of dead accompanies the nose.

With blatant touch of fire everywhere

Nothing is left untouched by destruction

Mother earth carpeted in blood

Clot between her cracks in the summer.

The eyes of man sunken deep

Lips withdrawn in noisy silence

The mind agitates itself

Trying to shed the fear

But the fear is contagious

And more gets afflicted.

Voices of love

Trying hard to pacify

But the ravaging war is unto the core

Mortars and bullets blindfolded

Knowing not the fiends and friends

Life flies listening to love.

Bullets wheeze in the air

Heartbeats increased at each wheeze

Strands of thoughts activate the mind

Crumbled hope and dissident cries

Fills the atmosphere

With putrefied smell of disintegration.

Dissolution - the nature’s law

Shall take place void of interference,

When the moments arrive

To the source all will return

But not by force exerted by ignorance

Deaf to the cry of humanity.

Consciousness constricts in war

Conscience buried before the dead

It brings no victory

War is but a shame on us

With animals laughing at us

Proudly we claim ownership of this existence.

What a shame

We smile with blood in out hands.

©cyclopseven. All right reserved 240310

Uncommon its becoming

Uncommon its becoming
man hardly extend hand without being noticed
generosity prompts many to help and care
pomposity comes along bringing tasteless taste
this kills the life of its aromatic sanctity
yet, man brags in a nook, “my heart is full of humanity”! ! .
riding on senses’ uncontrolled lead
many souls trudging waywardly downward
life’s purity - priority negated
humanity is but a word heartless
by forgotten mankind to forgotten souls.
expectation conquers every station,
from high to low, expectation a supreme play
nothing comes in void, today’s faithful faith
a belief held high on palanquin by man, the capitalists.
musical language spoken soothingly
melting the souls of frozen heart
yet to himself action speaks silently
but he expects others to step down and pull the rake
to clear the debris left behind by him
the so called man made man! !
material sweetness expands human goodness
an artificial life superficially lived,
pluck a desire of man
than a beast shall roam in nightmarish mood
avenging the stumbling blocks.
none is an exception
everyone lives in deception
deceived by none but our own perception
this mankind, void of unconditional love
shall forever live in utmost negation
of the higher world within humanity.


(posted elsewhere before)

©cyclopseven. All right reserved.

Forgive Me My friends I

One day my heartbeats shall stop

leaving the residue of life in the sands of time,

sooner, or maybe later

the call may arrive, unexpectedly.

To all my friends

known and unknown

from near and far,

any mistakes intentionally made

any mistakes unintentionally done

please undone the knots of anger and frustrations,

in forgiveness release me please

for in death I know not

whether I'll speak.

Time given today, perhaps tomorrow another day

I may be around, a few words let me say

leaving is not as important as living

by living the right way, the leaving will be light full of bliss.

I came for a purpose, I wish I know that well

alas! Human we are, the limitations imposed made us far

from god and man we wander away

seeking materials unknown for trifle play.

While energy is still high

render the deeds good,

sin not any souls that you come to meet

including the trees, creepers and mountains so high

for each bow we pay in respect

nature vows to keep us blissfully intact.

My dear friends

days may come and go

friends may come and go too

yet true ones hold a spot so dear

we know, with them we don’t have to fear.

Bountiful life is a way to joy

a careful driver is surely to rejoice

the harvest here and hereafter, if in the highway

he travels with tolerance, peace and truth.

These are the simple messages

from prophets, saints and sages

time yonder, they come from

seeking us for good, they thronged,

beautiful indeed this life will be

if everyone live the way that’s to be.

Goodbye, I shall now say

for, time is not in my grip

anytime, at any place and anyhow

he may come, the divine rider

as passenger he will take me

I hope, not in fright

but to a greater height.

Suddenly I feel

I have to say all these,

forgive me my friends

for the soul do not cast a word

after it is removed by the divine sword.

(Posted elsewhere before)

©2006 by cyclopseven. All rights reserved.

A baby in the womb

A baby lay forgotten In the womb of the dead mother; Still breathing the last few breathes The remaining of the mother’s last air. The ravaging war has killed the breast to feed Leaving the unfulfilled infant trapped alone Unless someone do something to support the life The baby’s scream will never be heard across the stream. Amidst of the rattling guns and battling man There lies the woman with her hand holding the tummy Lying still on the ground colored red The last wish was only to protect the life within the womb. Until a medic see the predicament The baby's last breath was almost unheard within Quickly the life saving team rushed Knowing they have nothing but only the grace of god. Each said their prayers while caesarean performed Hoping desperately to hear a little voice loud and clear To add music to the ransacked villages made unto a battlefield Due to atrocities blinded the humanity. Suddenly, in the middle of the rattling machine guns And blaring sounds of grenade explosions The surgeon proudly lifted the newborn high Poking his fingers gently to clear the throat So, the baby will one day stand tall to speak with right choice. Thank god, the whole team prayed A little late, we wouldn’t have seen another life Imbued with hope in the middle of the battle The medical van paved through the war Bringing news to others around That today in the battlefield A baby was born to a dead mother To tell the world, that life is still far from death. ©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 110807.  (Posted elsewhere before)