A play on perception,
Is a deception
An artificial construct;
That a liar exploits;
A politician courts,
And, a propagandist corrupts;
All the while:
The jester of the court,
Silently contorts in fits and jolts of manic glee!
Category Archives: Society
Over-Makeuped Girl!
You know you don’t need makeup;
You are naturally very beautiful,
If your insecurities mean that you must,
Know that you are nature’s work of art,
And, the barest hint of exaggeration is all you need:
To turn you into a classic masterpiece!
Stubborn
Errant words in disarray;
I grasp for them futilely,
I yearn for focus but it is ever illusory;
I feel over-burdened at times, by the task ahead,
My only salvation is that I am not alone in this,
And those that rely on them, rely on me (in varying degrees of necessity);
For, in this inherently uncertain world;
It is the great responsibility that shudders you awake from helpless reverie,
Sometimes, that is all you need:
A millisecond of clarity within a thick fog of uncertainty,
To catch a glimpse of the path ahead, and restore momentary focus and determination,
For the rest, I have always been a stubborn, arrogant, brute, to do anything other than the way I see it;
And age hasn’t seemed to have dulled this sense;
So, I have thrown my dice in this great game and path of life thus;
Have you?
Aid
I truly don’t know how this world works!
It’s full of pitfalls and dangers at every turn;
You steer clear of those you see,
Warn and help others to avoid the same, as best you can;
A perfect moment of aid, in a world filled with imperfect beings;
For a single ripple is all you need sometimes,
To bring a tsunami of hope to a world in pain.
Pigeonholes in the Sky
We be cooped up in these towers, brov;
Like them pigeons that no body wants around, blood;
Rats with wings and vermin, is what they call us like,
We be pigeons, in a world in love with doves;
Choice pickings don’t make it this far down;
Violent tussles over scraps,
Till we all be slipping on spilt blood;
And, scraping the bottom of a barrel,
To make do is what we do, brov;
That’s our lot in life,
And, we ain’t got a lot.
Pride of Nations
These carefully constructed treatise and concepts of sovereignty;
Are all but the allure of common courtesy and respectability;
Belying the animosity, hostility and unpalatable interplay that truly reigns between rulers;
Much like the relationship between rulers and their ruled, strictly behind closed doors-
(Characatured ‘In The Thick of It’, other satires, and hinted at in numerous resignations)
Perception is everything;
With occasional public airings proving to be highly damaging and embarrassing to the status quo;
When image invariably colours public opinion, and is normally determinitive of policy;
Much more is unseen, than seen;
And often times, war is engaged by stealth and is undeclared;
When this animosity spills over for public consumption however,
Pride of nations, often comes before a fall,
While on the other hand:
Such secrecy may be another reason a third great war has been avoided thus far;
Whether we should seek a change, requires immeasurable levels of trust between rulers,
When, evidently, there is none;
So, there is unlikely to be a credible alternative to the status quo, for now!
The Good-enough Guys
Good Guys versus Bad Guys;
It’s a simple tale told since the beginning of time;
The Good Guys can’t be good all the time,
And, turn into Bad Guys… sometimes,
Excuses are excuses, and become inexcusable, when:
The bad things the Good Guys do, turn out not to be just one-offs;
Revelations escape, like faint shafts of light through pinholes in the veil of secrecy,
Maintained in the name of national security, with intricate embroidery around each pinhole;
Trying desperately to disguise and deflect attention, that the veil is nought but a face-saving exercise!
Good-enough guys is what we seem to have ended up with,
And, I ask you in all sincerity:
Is that enough?
A Motto for the Classes
A poet by morning,
A drunkard by evening,
A dreamer-
A lover-
A worker-
A fighter-
A god-dammed hard-working man, is what I am!
Circles We Roam
The circles we move in,
Are not circles but squares,
Keeping to the corners,
Feeling isolated from the rest;
Like we were eccentric millionaires,
Except poorer by some measures,
Richer in others,
Who are we to adjudge-
Be it circle, square or triangle and your place therein-
When you are the one feeling left-out?
Self-indulgence and narcissism bring their own poverty;
For, whatever your station in life-
(Real, perceived, envied or longed for),
You cannot help wanting to belong.