With cheers raining
And, tears too.
Children playing
Adults praying.
Everyone isolates themselves
From themselves,
Yet they care a lot
For others.
Strangers in the own world
They are none others but us.
When it is painful
We blame all but us
When in pleasure
The divine, we never treasure.
Strange ain’t it
We are strangers
In our own world.
©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 280608.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
World as it is....
Scarcity
An illusory excuse.
Shortage
Is just another word
For scarcity.
Poverty cries
While hoarders hoard
Capitalists smile.
Politic ticks
And politicians are pigs
Together they capitalize
The hoarders’ antic.
Everywhere slums
Are swelling with nasty smell
Modernization comes
Caressing the downtrodden
Letting them slip and sleep by the drain.
Education has become a privilege
Selected few rides through
The rest groan in pain of neglect
By the very government, they voted.
color and religion still matters
For one to climb in relieve
Yet the world talks of globalisation
With fragmented words, and looks.
The one God we called Creator
Is missing forever
Fearing for human insanity.
The neglected ones
Warring for survival.
When will this come to and end?
And, the philosopher said
“Nay, this is the world”
“It’s perfect”
“God is great”.
A small child cries
Parents murdered
By humanity.
©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 270608.
An illusory excuse.
Shortage
Is just another word
For scarcity.
Poverty cries
While hoarders hoard
Capitalists smile.
Politic ticks
And politicians are pigs
Together they capitalize
The hoarders’ antic.
Everywhere slums
Are swelling with nasty smell
Modernization comes
Caressing the downtrodden
Letting them slip and sleep by the drain.
Education has become a privilege
Selected few rides through
The rest groan in pain of neglect
By the very government, they voted.
color and religion still matters
For one to climb in relieve
Yet the world talks of globalisation
With fragmented words, and looks.
The one God we called Creator
Is missing forever
Fearing for human insanity.
The neglected ones
Warring for survival.
When will this come to and end?
And, the philosopher said
“Nay, this is the world”
“It’s perfect”
“God is great”.
A small child cries
Parents murdered
By humanity.
©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 270608.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Doomed??
The arid land
Marks the death.
Millions starve
For a morsel.
This land is not
A cornucopia of wealth.
People with swarthy skin
Coating their body with nothing.
Dead, but still alive
Their soul hanging
On loose thread.
Food comes in liquid
Flowing wheat is luxury.
Extending their arms
They cup the food in their palms
Crowded gathering
The fittest survives.
The day’s ordeal over,
At least for now.
Until the next roar
Of the old trucks
Is heard again
A deep scar
Slowly began to open.
They cry blood
That too, too dry to call blood.
Frantic cries
The daily music.
The wail of hungry children
Is like a machine gun
Gone wild.
The world sympathise
Alas! What sympathy holds?
When on the paper a signature absent
UN says no food delivery.
Wait for the signature to come by
Then UN shall sanction the delivery.
Can the hungry souls
Sign their stomach
To quench their thirst
And wipe the hunger?
Think, man
Oh!! UN
Please pardon me
Give them food.
You go to hell
With the signature
And damned protocols.
Let the mark of death
Grow thin on this land
The arid land.
©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 240608.
Marks the death.
Millions starve
For a morsel.
This land is not
A cornucopia of wealth.
People with swarthy skin
Coating their body with nothing.
Dead, but still alive
Their soul hanging
On loose thread.
Food comes in liquid
Flowing wheat is luxury.
Extending their arms
They cup the food in their palms
Crowded gathering
The fittest survives.
The day’s ordeal over,
At least for now.
Until the next roar
Of the old trucks
Is heard again
A deep scar
Slowly began to open.
They cry blood
That too, too dry to call blood.
Frantic cries
The daily music.
The wail of hungry children
Is like a machine gun
Gone wild.
The world sympathise
Alas! What sympathy holds?
When on the paper a signature absent
UN says no food delivery.
Wait for the signature to come by
Then UN shall sanction the delivery.
Can the hungry souls
Sign their stomach
To quench their thirst
And wipe the hunger?
Think, man
Oh!! UN
Please pardon me
Give them food.
You go to hell
With the signature
And damned protocols.
Let the mark of death
Grow thin on this land
The arid land.
©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 240608.
Monday, June 23, 2008
HELL
The mere mention of the word ‘Hell’ can give rise to an imagination where people who have committed sins, undergo various kinds of punishment, from being cut into halves, burnt alive, stabbed, being devoured by strange creatures etc. It carries such an impact, and is an inalienable part of most of the world religions/beliefs. It is a place where sinners punished by putting them through sufferings beyond normal imagination. It reflects darkness, pain, extreme cold, extreme heat and suffering. Punishment meted depends on the nature or gravity of the sins committed by the individuals.
In some religions, the concept of hell has shifted from mere wordy elaboration into colorful, clear and gory reflections in graphical forms. The aim is to inculcate fear in man, so to repent and not to commit any wrongdoings. To make it short and simple, hell is like a prison on earth but with horrendous sufferings and punishment. Still, the conditions on earth are in many ways equal to hell itself.
In June 2007, I had the opportunity to visit a Chinese Temple in Malaysia, which depicts an underground hell, with all the graphical representation. This is a Chinese concept of hell and may have some similarities with the concepts explained in other religions/beliefs as well. Each belief is unique in its own sense and precious part of those who believe in it. Let us look at this with an open mind.
©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 230608
Saturday, June 21, 2008
The wall of hope
The wall besmirched with clotted blood
And cracks all along the entire surface
Evokes the gloomy atmosphere of an era concealed
In painful tragedies and devastation.
Driven wild by tense moments of survival
Many hid behind the wall, to shield from the bombs
While listening to the crackles of flame
Consuming the buildings around, but not the wall.
They hold steadfast to their faith
And their faith to guide them to live
To appreciate the beauty of another day
Despite the sequential death around them.
Too precious to lose, the wall always renewed
Not with paint and plaster but with unwavering faith,
The fading twilights reminded them of another attack
Lurking somewhere across the dark sky over their lives.
The wall though besmirched with clotted blood
That remained their wall of hope
To withstand the barrage of atrocities
Until the end of war, and the end of life.
(Dedicated to everyone who had gone through
the painful experiences during the many wars
waged by mankind against mankind. They lost
everything – Love, Health, Wealth, Trust, Limbs
yet they hold tight to the wall of hope to
continue the survival of mankind)
©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 210608)
And cracks all along the entire surface
Evokes the gloomy atmosphere of an era concealed
In painful tragedies and devastation.
Driven wild by tense moments of survival
Many hid behind the wall, to shield from the bombs
While listening to the crackles of flame
Consuming the buildings around, but not the wall.
They hold steadfast to their faith
And their faith to guide them to live
To appreciate the beauty of another day
Despite the sequential death around them.
Too precious to lose, the wall always renewed
Not with paint and plaster but with unwavering faith,
The fading twilights reminded them of another attack
Lurking somewhere across the dark sky over their lives.
The wall though besmirched with clotted blood
That remained their wall of hope
To withstand the barrage of atrocities
Until the end of war, and the end of life.
(Dedicated to everyone who had gone through
the painful experiences during the many wars
waged by mankind against mankind. They lost
everything – Love, Health, Wealth, Trust, Limbs
yet they hold tight to the wall of hope to
continue the survival of mankind)
©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 210608)
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