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Subtle Complexities and Myriad Simplicities by Ashok Subramanian P is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Man - I

Clad in clothing almost uncustomary,
Incognito, It seems like Robin Hood,
Into the town, The Sheriff unwary,
But no Sheriff, no cop, anywhere stood!

II

Incredulous like the stars, the human mind,
But I doubt if equally selfless,
Definitely in them a little spite I find,
Unlike the stars who equally bless!

III

It is impossible, for pigs in a sty,
To even think about another sty,
So placid, these wretched beasts,
Are they clever enough to teach?

The Lotus Blossom

A decayed, withered lotus blossom,
Once a succulent, pinkish hue,
Half buried now in cemetery sand,
The grayish tint of death.

Now crawl on them, little bugs,
That feast on dead human flesh,
Once adorned like bling, the glorious flower,
Little worms that fed on life.

Together with our lone blossom,
At least a dozen there were more,
Now strewed along like sandy dunes,
A bouquet once they were.

When full and red, they signified,
The full, quivery lips of the One,
Whose shaky heart then ached in vain,
Now alongside, they rest in peace.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Sweet Poison!

In my hand the nectar of life,
Not exactly, But my clouded mind,
Hardly differentiates, The sweetest poison,
From the bitterest drug!

Employing all the brute, teethy force,
Open it with a feel of froth,
A little blood tastes redundant,
Like the little life the poison sucks!