UTOPIA

 

 

Balancing on a knife’s edge

Would determine the weight of a feather

But would be futile

when a man’s spirit is on scale.

 

Innate intelligence of a desperado

Grappling with straws plucked from the roots

The mirror cracked; faces replicated,

Life and existence is a schizophrenic affair

 

Men in bits held by wraiths of violence

Tempered with hatred, retching saccharine feud

Spouting death and misery,

With saturnine fervor

 

Vengeance repackaged repainted and recycled,

Transmuted hatred, sublimate as peace.

Eagles with olive leaves and arsenals,

Cannot spare the prey.

 

Troubleshooters with eyes on gold

Measure blood, its weight in cash

And salve their crude conscience with oil

Machiavellian doves with poise and finesse

 

The world is your grasp

Active volcanoes your playground

Your best soup is bloody lies

And toasted deceit

 

Atropos has sharpened her shears.

Fortune has been ravished by men,

Whose eyes do not think,

Infected with political satyriasis

 

“How long will you stare at the weaver?”

“the tapestry has been done !!”

 

The Gangster took Gang wars

from the streets to the globe,

Yet when apprentices ply the trade

The master interjected with interdictions

 

Mega bombs for megapolis

Nerve gases for the nervous

Innocence died on the cross

Welcome to the real world.

 

The business end of the needle

Sews and pricks the seamstress

When you point one finger

Three points back to you

 

“You think hell was the abode

Where hellions dine with  the devil.

No, it is home of the helpless, suppressed

And oppressed

Whose voices have been muted,

By politics and the bullet”

 

 

 

TRUTH IN DISGUISE

 

Truth gets sacred and scarce

Like a masquerade’s grove

And a masked clergy

Sitting in a grilled box

Pardoning the penitent.

 

Truth gets enigmatic

Like a tailless sphinx

And slave ships

On a journey of a million miles

Shrouded in thick uncertainty

Of an uneventful return.

 

Truth gets blurred

Like eyes filmed with cataract

And lanes shrouded with mist

And fog in the mid morning

And the glazed vision of the drunk.

 

Truth lacks illumination

Like a teacher with amnesia,

Like a blind footballer,

And a dry river bed

And a soloist with sore throat.

 

 

 

 

THE SPECTRUM OF FEAR

 

Red is anger; conceived by passion and impulsive hate

Orange is bitter-sweet; fear which stays feeling rejected

Yet loved, abandoned yet cherished.

Yellow is compliance; fear which comes from the band wagon,

The urge to jump ship before it is too late

Green-gray is envy; fear which comes from primes inter pares, the top dog syndrome

Green is jealousy; fear which comes from within, makes us human yet urges us to seek deification.

Blue is reverence; fear which acknowledges suppremacy and renders its due

Indigo is indignant fear; fear which is conceived by

Prejudice and segregation

Violet is violent; fear that acts, wells up from within and squelches blood on her way to hell

But the worst of fears is without colour, the fear of me, who am i?