Judge me if you want, we all die one day, but I intend to deserve it – Ernesto Che Guavara
An army of men I got,
it all came unsought,
not had by many that bought,
why crave army of women tart?
not sexual though I a pervert,
but to satiate childhood introvert,
that fought to become this extrovert,
though shattered my fort;
an army to make,
and not break,
who better than girls that don’t fake,
an army of girls I’ll leave in my wake;
an army to defeat hell’s wrath,
to make heaven of this earth.
Only when you realize there is a god and he is powerful that you hate him most and become stubborn to reject heaven for hell.
Peter guarding heaven’s gates declared,
from now gates open not on character,
but on talent, as a huge commotion flared,
hate to wait, thought going hell, entry swift;
a potter showed a magnificent vase,
was let in and there he entered smiling,
another a trader purchased his space
with his weight in gold, coins tumbling;
an artist showed painting not great,
and was sent away to depths of hell,
a poet came and met the same fate,
his words shallow, not much to tell;
My turn came and judging me was said that I belonged,
neither heaven nor hell but purgatory for talents wronged.
Parched lips seek ambrosia,
not suffice the earthly water,
ungratified seek euthanasia,
such force of habit, no shorter;
the nectar carried places ethereal,
high heavens and bittersweet hell,
moulded in a way that seemed real,
why stop journey where all is well;
hanging blissfully awake near sleep,
body and soul torn from grief to relief,
lost forever in a magical kingdom deep,
why leave now and turn what new leaf;
he who prefer life salted not sweet,
let him wet lips till he white as sheet.
The hill was steep and high, viewed from the bottom,
yet when conquered, from atop, seemed tiny as a dot,
slippery path, challenges, where hurdles sprung from?
yet we climb in packs, and alone, for left behind is to rot;
some content rested down, while others climbed quickly,
yet some like me stopped halfway, those in pack carried,
solitary as I was, didn’t have that luxury, bowed meekly,
how long to loiter in a limbo, my weak heart beats varied;
the journey was tiring, yet sweet so far, I’ve really come far,
for these heights tiny for life climbers, but lofty for me fresher,
oh, birds of high trees don’t weep for me, a failed fallen star,
what use my life been, late lament, to be put to the thresher;
I waited, waited long and silent, for some beast to tear a piece,
then a heavenly girl, out worldly said, come with me in peace.
The litter in my brain is horrid,
the smell of my soul is putrid,
not cleansed by a dip in the Ganges,
which has been polluted for ages;
why had I become such?
can idleness affect soul this much,
I am thus not by any bad influence,
but with people around, a lack of confluence;
hopeless as I was, there must be more like me,
chained and bellowing, struggling to break free,
the bad thoughts and deeds, do they count?
but what is good and what bad, how surmount?
I don’t worry of hell and not ask heaven for me,
all I ask is to be strong to help another’s plea.
What is this life
one minute boisterous
another preposterous.
Why live it at all
wish we were in mother’s womb cloistered
forever from harsh pressures non flustered.
It ain’t a choice
one just shouldn’t have a chick
for no one is ever there to stick.
What is to live
to drive, push and shove around
where is hidden the old playground.
What is hell
the earth where all live in terror
and devil, just look in the mirror.
What is heaven
it is in our bank account and clock together
just got to unfollow one and slow the other.
11. “My niece showed a quote saying ‘I am not Bossy, I just know what things you should do’, It made me decide to stay put in my job, for whoever it may be that calls the shots, if in the end, they add smiles to the nieces in the world; then my job is a worthy calling.”
12. ” They said matches are made in heaven but I realized lately that they are made in Sivakasi and despite this knowledge I am looking for my match”.
13. “Beggars can’t be choosers is true on most days but all choosers come past a day of begging and all beggars have a day of choosing. Somewhere along the way you stick to your choices and that is reality”
14. “The problem with me is extremes, I either love myself too deeply, so as not to love anyone else, or love others too deeply, so as not to love myself”
15. “The World is a place for love and affection say some and live that way,they find solace; the world is a place of selfish fun and joy and find pain, as society doesn’t allow peace for such folks; the truly wise say the first thing and do the second and have fun forever”
Solitary Wanderer 