Nowhere Left to Run

The politician plays victim
The willing poor pay his expense;
The sun spins around his world,
Making justice lose her sense.

The rhyme here is contrived,
Like the machinations of power;
The workers work to death,
The rich get richer by the hour.

Trees are hewn down in thousands,
Ground water will soon cease to flow;
And the intelligentsia keep mum,
Though they are all in the know.

Politics wields a flaming sword,
Darker than any Stygian abyss;
While religions hold the idiots in thrall,
Robbing every Eve of her kiss.

Free speech is throttled now,
Jingoism empowers the fools;
History and logic become
Embittered and useless tools.

The world teeters as it stays still
This mother too is given no choice;
So, we have nowhere left to run,
But in a maze, with no thought, sight, voice.

The Age of Dust

Read about wars;
Heard about deaths;
Know human beings
And their penchant for power.
Fairy tales spoke of it:
Witches who killed princes,
Then priests who killed witches—
Even those who healed.

April brought sweet showers
That the dead could not dance in.
Yet wars were fought,
History was written—
Differently, for different powers.
Gods upon millennia
Passed.
And human beings remain
Stupid.
Clinging to faith, or awe,
Taught by fear
Of being so small
In the glowing massiveness of universes.
Unrealising:
We come from stars, too.

Yet we choose death,
Born of greed that strips
Root from tree,
Child from mother—
To fight for strips of land
That will never remain ours.
Nor will the name
Your dead mother gave you,
That the world remembered
For just an age.

Toothache

Toothaches are rare –
Like heartbreaks,
In relationships
One needs to care:
Brush and floss
(Twice daily)
So the ache stays away.

But when care is lost –
Teeth fester.
Often, an extraction
Is the only way
To stop infection.