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Monthly Archives: January 2015

Poem: Whose Republic?

28 Wednesday Jan 2015

Posted by gokulbalex in Critic, Poetry

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Life, Nationalism, Society

There are books written on republic

There are nations born as republic

Yes, there is so much of blood and faith in the name of republic

Now I learned how to trade a republic

In the day marked for the feast and hoist

There was a trader bureaucrat in our soil

He minced no words to praise our subservience

He winked at our glory and pittance alike

He wooed and booed us the same time

He ate and crushed our delicacies

He left us without a trace of dust

Only now I know he has secured a deal

That can turn us into a heap of dust or nuclear mist

We are mastering the art of slavery

Without knowing the pittance of pain

I heard the other day about spying with 15,000 cameras

Now I started hating my two naked eyes

That can hardly see anything beneath the wolverine faces

Now I started wooing the name of leaders who etch their names

Now I started fetching my fate in the signatures

Of scoundrels that trade our future centuries

Who are we heralding the flags and fists ?

Who are we hissing for in the darkness?

Even my poisoned mind has realized its mundane existence

Even my pillaged self has realized the bait offered in my name

When bait and beat becomes one, I will trade my coffin in thy name

Poem: Blood in the Grass

26 Monday Jan 2015

Posted by gokulbalex in Poetry

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Life

We were spread out

Across the lands

We were the miniatures

Of the legends

We had legs like your nerves

We had primitive figures

We had sharp noses

We had livid tissues

We had life in the edges

We had sharp kisses

We never touched their nerves

Yet we bleed in the middle of a summer

We were once boastful

That axes can never wipe us out

Now they need our earth naked

Now they need to root us out

Now they make breathless cells

Now they live in porous grounds

We are them in counted days

Ignorant we are, ignored by their ways

Poem: Life of a Fisherman Commune

25 Sunday Jan 2015

Posted by gokulbalex in Poetry

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Emotions, Life, People, Society

To idle with the tides

We travel to many seasides

This time we saw a commune of fishermen

They were serving us food hot and cold

Earning their sleeping hours

I had a ‘tsunami tea’

A glass of tea textured with a sea tide

Their shops were made like circus tents

Odd colors, stranger Gods, Senile dogs

They had everything out of figure

But their food had a familiar taste

They sleep in the early hours of the day

9 am, they are off to the streets

11 am, they were riding for us in rickshaws

They carried our days longer than we thought

9 pm, they are back to the seaside in their tents

We may forgot our days, but they could not

Their nights were the residues of our days

Their days were the streching hours for our nights

I returned home, knowing nothing about them

For me, they were another opaque beings harping around

Months later, I pen down their ways

Missing their benign smiles and beaming lives

Poem: A Humid Room

25 Sunday Jan 2015

Posted by gokulbalex in Poetry

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Emotions, Life, People

I feel I am not alone in this room

It breaths and crawls with my antics

So much of emotions brewing here

So much of humidity lives here

A plenty of sweat and despair is born

Simmering out of sickness

It grows weird in my eyesight

I have another humid half

I know it is not made up of my days

I know it is not cooked in my dreams

It may be the other end of my porous beliefs

They see through the wedges of my pupil

A world full of half baked ideas

Poem: An Opaque Life

23 Friday Jan 2015

Posted by gokulbalex in Perspectives, Poetry

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Emotions, Life, People

it is about an opaque man

Occupied with himself and his choices

He is about to go burst

Before the arrival of his times

Much away from his original self

He is burdened by burning colors

Colors always brought him chaos

His pale pulses reminded him

He is about to go burst

In the heap of thoughts

He has played all his cards

In the vestige of a street

He has overheard all the prophesies

In the air of conspiracies

He has been through luminous times

He has seen the edges of visceral affairs

It is all opaque and sinking deep dense

No more vision and insights

From this fuming dust and dithering lenses

Now we know for sure

Even pitch blend blends better than his thoughts

Poem: Pathological Queries

23 Friday Jan 2015

Posted by gokulbalex in Poetry, Psychology

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Emotions

Is it an illness

Due to which I am not able to write

about the life around myself

Is it an illness

Thanks to which I am not able to see

the world around me

Is it an illness

Caused by which I am unaffected my odds

Is it an illness

With which I could uphold my pen in times of miseries

Is it an illness

That I still have my pen dirty and my hands greedy

Is it an illness

By which I am floating above the ground called earth

Is it an illness

Owning a barren mind in times of timid talks

Is it an illness

To be sulky, bulky and shaky about my footsteps

Is it an illness

To ponder about my little stomach ache, sore throat, lazy bone

Is it an illness

Not to wake up early in my days, weep late my nights, dream odd in my lights

Not you, not you, not you, I must say I am the reason for this stillness around my air

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