"Help me God! Please be nice...
A baby brother I do not want"
Prayed a little girl a long time ago...
Perhaps someone listened,
Yet, sometimes, I think, "Maybe not"
Babies are cute, and so was she
In a wrinkly, crinkly kind of way
Rotund she was, oh yes, no doubt
Though you can't see that today
Her cheeks were soft, her butt, softer
Diapers, still smelly, that I'll say
And then one day, there came a change
You know the kind, you know you do
(No, not the kind involing chai and kitlis)...
Indoor games gave way to drumsticks,
Coloured hair became the rage -- yellow, pink and even blue
K, ok... I know this is more than a little sappy,
Yet I'm hoping it'll make up for me not being there
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Cliches
Why is it hard to believe
That child is the father of man?
Why is it so hard to see
What chips off the block might be?
A chip off the ol' block
Just as smooth, just as rough,
As soft, as hard, as strong
Smaller? May be, but rarely weaker.
The little things make the big.
The big beget the small.
The world runs on circles.
and circles go on forever.
That child is the father of man?
Why is it so hard to see
What chips off the block might be?
A chip off the ol' block
Just as smooth, just as rough,
As soft, as hard, as strong
Smaller? May be, but rarely weaker.
The little things make the big.
The big beget the small.
The world runs on circles.
and circles go on forever.
Memories and a Laugh
"Baroda's hot,"
Ahmedabad's not?
Can't help it man,
That's all we got
No cash, no stash
no watermelon patch
The mango's alright
but it's just no match
To parties at Jain's
and Vodka'd brains,
talking crap all night,
calling people names
Cheese and bread
My fridge is dead
from midnight snacks
2A so often fed
But that's in the past
It went too fast
just wanted to say
I'm glad we had a blast
Now I'm stuck
I need some luck
I'm going under
Modi's truck
Send help my way
lemme have my say
I wonder what they'd pay
a poet for a day?
Ahmedabad's not?
Can't help it man,
That's all we got
No cash, no stash
no watermelon patch
The mango's alright
but it's just no match
To parties at Jain's
and Vodka'd brains,
talking crap all night,
calling people names
Cheese and bread
My fridge is dead
from midnight snacks
2A so often fed
But that's in the past
It went too fast
just wanted to say
I'm glad we had a blast
Now I'm stuck
I need some luck
I'm going under
Modi's truck
Send help my way
lemme have my say
I wonder what they'd pay
a poet for a day?
Wandering, Wondering
Headlights reflect from far away
Pretending to be the sun
On a landscape punctuated
with green, brown and ugly white
Dickinsonian factories silhouette the sky
'Neath the morning's smouldering smog
Even neon lights cannot transform
A sweat shop into paradise
Pretending to be the sun
On a landscape punctuated
with green, brown and ugly white
Dickinsonian factories silhouette the sky
'Neath the morning's smouldering smog
Even neon lights cannot transform
A sweat shop into paradise
The Legend of Ulibak
She floated down the wave of consciousness
Barely aware of the blue tuna riding the microwave
Or the earthworm that glowed brighter than usual
Slipping, sliding, through the earthworm hole
She knew not where she was going, or why
Till she bumped her head against a talking mirror
And a laughing tree brought her to a stop
***
Suddenly it was clear; she knew that she would be
Ulibak, the greatest heroine, the Bakulis ever did see
Doodlebong supported her, even if he fell off the tree
A thought wave then hit her, Ms Yancha was near
So donning her cape of varying colors, she looked up at the sky,
Shook her fist at Lord Ne’erdonot, as nearer she did fly
She saw the sky turn dark, and loudly she did cry
“Oh! No, you don’t! Not another black sky!”
It wasn’t that her mind was fallow,
But there’s only so many holidays one can swallow
So she raced to the Lord in her wheel-barrow
She flew past, like there was no tomorrow
Sometimes, she wished she’d had a choo-choo
But, what kind of hero, would her gifts eschew?
Aurria flew by, singing like a great cuckoo
While Rubsh kept wondering, “What was I gonna do?”
Uli wanted to travel, to take an extended holiday
But there was so much work that she had to stay
She went back home with much dismay,
And thanked the Lord for his fish fillet!
Barely aware of the blue tuna riding the microwave
Or the earthworm that glowed brighter than usual
Slipping, sliding, through the earthworm hole
She knew not where she was going, or why
Till she bumped her head against a talking mirror
And a laughing tree brought her to a stop
***
Suddenly it was clear; she knew that she would be
Ulibak, the greatest heroine, the Bakulis ever did see
Doodlebong supported her, even if he fell off the tree
A thought wave then hit her, Ms Yancha was near
So donning her cape of varying colors, she looked up at the sky,
Shook her fist at Lord Ne’erdonot, as nearer she did fly
She saw the sky turn dark, and loudly she did cry
“Oh! No, you don’t! Not another black sky!”
It wasn’t that her mind was fallow,
But there’s only so many holidays one can swallow
So she raced to the Lord in her wheel-barrow
She flew past, like there was no tomorrow
Sometimes, she wished she’d had a choo-choo
But, what kind of hero, would her gifts eschew?
Aurria flew by, singing like a great cuckoo
While Rubsh kept wondering, “What was I gonna do?”
Uli wanted to travel, to take an extended holiday
But there was so much work that she had to stay
She went back home with much dismay,
And thanked the Lord for his fish fillet!
Hauntings
In the moonlight, she stood still
Facing the ghosts that haunted her...
Why? She wondered. Why now? Why me?
Every time she thought she was rid of them,
they came back to haunt her, to ridicule her.
Why did she always succumb to their taunts?
The more she tried to run and hide,
The less she succeeded.
Nowhere to run. And no one to run to...
When did this happen? and, what had happened?
She yearned for a glimpse of her old self...
All she saw was a broken spirit.
When did the sheepdog become the sheep -
Ready to follow, forgetting to lead?
Was her spirit really dead?
Or, merely asleep,
waiting like Aurora to be awakened?
Would she ever be herself again?
She wondered...
And tears streamed down her face.
Facing the ghosts that haunted her...
Why? She wondered. Why now? Why me?
Every time she thought she was rid of them,
they came back to haunt her, to ridicule her.
Why did she always succumb to their taunts?
The more she tried to run and hide,
The less she succeeded.
Nowhere to run. And no one to run to...
When did this happen? and, what had happened?
She yearned for a glimpse of her old self...
All she saw was a broken spirit.
When did the sheepdog become the sheep -
Ready to follow, forgetting to lead?
Was her spirit really dead?
Or, merely asleep,
waiting like Aurora to be awakened?
Would she ever be herself again?
She wondered...
And tears streamed down her face.
Faery Dance
Dark faeries dance in the pale moonlight
Bewitchin eyes a-glistenin in the distance
Wide open spaces, a starless nite
Silhouettes the dark faery's dance
The smoky clouds - a low umbrella
Fireflies flickering in the green green grass
A tinkling stream that cries Aloha
The perfect setting for the faery's dance
John's Wort and Thyme that grow on a hill
The unicorn that looks on in askance
These are some things that hold their will
And cause the dark faeries to prance
When night falls, the birds cease flight
An' the sun's gone back to his Heaven,
The dark faeries dance in the pale moonlight
They dance till dawn at seven.
Bewitchin eyes a-glistenin in the distance
Wide open spaces, a starless nite
Silhouettes the dark faery's dance
The smoky clouds - a low umbrella
Fireflies flickering in the green green grass
A tinkling stream that cries Aloha
The perfect setting for the faery's dance
John's Wort and Thyme that grow on a hill
The unicorn that looks on in askance
These are some things that hold their will
And cause the dark faeries to prance
When night falls, the birds cease flight
An' the sun's gone back to his Heaven,
The dark faeries dance in the pale moonlight
They dance till dawn at seven.
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