What Matters to Me – Random Ramblings

I was walking with my dog .Skooby, today morning.  It was a beautiful morning, a cool breeze blowing, a clear sunny California day.  It was not a long walk, about two miles.  As I was walking, the idea of a poem was sprouting in my mind.  I could clearly see the words floating in front of my eyes.  I decided to write the poem down as soon as I reached home.  Alas, once I reached home and sat down to write, I realized my beautifully arranged words were no longer lining up as beautifully and now all jumbled up. I opened my smartphone and was disappointed as it turned out not to be smart but dumb.  The dumb phone failed to record my thoughts.  What good is its smartness for?  Now I was forced to rely on my old, failing memory instead of the smart memory of my phone.  Well, to make a long story short, the poem did not turn out to be as beautiful as I envisioned.  But rest assured, though it may sound to be a rambling one, I did not have a single iota of malice in my mind towards anyone.  Not even to the one whose statue would never be erected to adorn any significant public square anywhere in the world to be toppled by future protesters.  In fact I am indebted to him for being the inspiration of the poem.

 

When did it come to this,

The choice of

Six feet apart, or

Six feet under

Became valid?

We became afraid

To cough in public,

But OK to fart,

Louder the better,

No infection danger.

When did it become the norm

To wear mask in public,

But wearing hijab is

Still wrong?

And those in denial

Justifying their refusal

To wear mask,

Proclaiming their freedom of choice,

When it become OK

To knowingly infect others?

And that’s not a crime?

Are these the same

Who indignantly proclaim

Their rights to bear arms?

Reasoning guns don’t kill

People do,

Now will they say

People do not infect,

Corona does?

We are all so scared of 

The truth,

And embrace

All the fake news.

As long as the 

Chief protagonist

Butters our toasts

It’s OK.

Toasts may get

Burnt black,

Who cares,

As all life matters

But it is difficult to say

Black life matters, because

All does not include black.

Sometimes I wonder,

Who created white and black,

Blue and brown?

Blue blood,

Never seen one.

If ever I see the almighty

I do plan to ask.

But which one?

All the children of the books

Profess only to their one.

If even I dare to say

I do pray,

But not to the one 

You or you do,

I shall be 

Consigned to hell.

Spokesperson who hijacked

The words of the

All merciful,

May say

Off with my head,

If I dare to doubt.

I prefer my neck

On my head.

Neither do I prefer

To go to hell,

Not that what they are making

This earth is

Any better.

Peace be on you all

If I dare say,

But whose peace? 

Oh, how I digress

For whatever it counts

To me,

Black lives matter,

Lives of the repressed matter,

Lives of the discriminated matter,

Lives of the oppressed matter,

Lives of the persecuted matter,

And yes, All lives matter.

Guns do kill,

As Covid kills,

As people kill,

As lies kill.

And I want my freedom

To cough in public,

Even hidden behind 

The mask.

No, not to infect.

I don’t relish the thought

To fake

And fart

To hide my cough.

 

Life is about choices

Life is about choices we make
Reverberating reminiscence of regrets
Sliding down memory lane of past unfulfilled
Wrapped in cocoons of miseries unwelcome
From which no butterflies will ever emerge
Chosen to fly instead with new found wings

Imagination unbridled, mind uncluttered

Exploring new frontiers, make new friends
Carrying memories beautiful to fuel my flight

Skooby’s Call : RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge # 204 Home & Free

This post is in response to Ronovan’s Weekly Haiku Challenge .

Also in recognition of Ronovan’s warning ( or disclaimer ) ” , this post is neither about religion or any political issue

20160120_144900 (2)

His blind faith on us
Little did he know our choice
Nine rewarding years


We picked up Skooby about nine years back from Humane Society. He definitely was our choice as we saw his photo while researching for a dog.  When we went to see him first, he did not show any interest towards us at all and the lady volunteer who was looking after Skooby told us that he may not be a good fit and we should look for some more.  As we came out of the room and went to another rook to look at some other dogs, we realized that our daughter ( eleven at that time) was not with us. We went back to the other room and saw that she was sitting on the ground in front of Skooby’s crate and cuddling his feet and snout that he had out through the bars of the crate door.  Well, as people say, the rest is history and our bundle of joy is still with us all these years.  As the kids grew up and moved out to college, he is our happy companion keeping us away from empty nester syndrome.

Cursed forever to a life wronged

‘Troy passed away in one high funeral gleam,
And Usna’s children died.’  – W.B. Yeats

Thou shalt bear the fruit of love
Thous shalt bear the fruit of passion
Thou shalt bear the fruit of lust
Thou shalt bear the fruit of the demon
Thou shalt bear the fruit of rape
Thou shalt bear the fruit of incest
Gave her the boon of motherhood
And the strength to bear the pain
Took away her freedom, freedom of choice
One that cursed her forever to a life wronged
Must be the One created by man


This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Nine

 

 

Choice

Choice to have a slow death
Lingering pain slowly sucking away
My last breath
While you rejoice
At the beauty of your lying creation
Of giving  everybody a free choice
You made sure that giving me
A choice I neither asked nor wanted
You and your cronies
Living in an alternate universe
Will line your pockets with riches
While I count my days
Burdened by your fake choices

I’m Happy where I am

I’m where I am
By choice or destiny
Where I could have been
Where I would have been
What does it matter
Now at this moment
Here I am
Wanted or not
I do not care
Will extend my hand
Open my heart
Left behind the
Garbage of the past
Carry the nectar
Of love in my heart
If you accept
As it is
Both of us gain
If not
You wallow in the
Filth of your hatred
I move forward
Spreading gospel of love
I’m happy where I am

Lament of a Little One Lost in Sea

a kids lament and sense of helplessness on being swept away to sea while fleeing the marauding hordes of rampaging killers

Lament of a Little One Lost in Sea

 

It’s dark all around me
Waves and swells of a rough sea
Pitch black bottomless darkness
Harkens to me
I came to this world
Without given a choice
Where I was born
Language I would speak
Who I do pray
Environment I be in
Always told
If I am good
All forgiving, all powerful, all merciful
Will take care of me
What wrong I had done
Few years I had on this earth
Abandoned now in my time of need
Told that across the sea
Lies the promised land
Where I would be free
Dead in the middle of night
Did we flee
Did not have a hand
When we left the only place
I knew as my home
I had no choice
As the marauding hordes
Calling themselves the ones
Chosen by god
Came rampaging
Hell bent on killing us all
I was promised that if I am quiet
On the boat sailing the sea
Once we land
I will be home safe and free
I was quiet, did not even cry
When the big waves swept me away
Away from my only hope
Never once I opened my mouth
Hoping for the almighty to take me home
It is darkness now all around me
Not a star up in the sky
They had chosen the darkest night
For a safe trip across the sea
The hand of darkness from the 
Depth of the bottomless sea
Crawling up to take me down
I can not lose my faith in the almighty
Whom I have never seen
If there is life after death
And we do meet
I will have one question
Why was I chosen to leave
Before I was old enough
To lose my faith
In humanity
सिफ़र.

Everything and Nothing. And then some words.

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