Global Warning

Dear world, arise from your deep slumber

The entire galaxy laughs at us

The melting glaciers and the rising sea level

Arise and heed the warning

 

Look at the price of industrialization

Few get rich while all suffer consequences

Of the emissions and the effluents

Steadily choking our existence

 

The ever erratic weather patterns

Stick like cancerous tentacles

Gripping our senses ever more tightly

As people die of starvation

 

Arise humans, and tend to your planet

We’ve conquered it, and conquered ourselves

For it becomes inhabitable

We’ll go the way of the dinosaurs

Utopia

Bury your heads dear humans,

Bury them in sands,

As chain saws gobble up

Water catchment areas

 

Encroach forests, build timber houses

Plant cash crops all around

For when the last drop of rain is a tear

Generations after will eat currency

 

Brother, cut that damn tree

Yes, that one. Cut it down

You mean birds live there

No, who gives a damn, just cut it

 

The Sahara is hauntingly beautiful

Think about the sand dunes

How about the far apart oasis

Isn’t the entire world worth a Sahara?

Libation

 Thick black smoke dances to the sky

A song of destruction emanates, noisily

From the tireless turbines, turning

Churning effluents on Mother Nature’s belly

 

Without guns, and not so much of intelligence

The effluents have a dictatorial grip in water sources

Choking life as well as the aesthetic appeal

And we sit by and wonder what went wrong

 

Our ancestors succumbed to industrial sludge

For it is the only form of libation on the menu

As people seek new ways to earn a living

Yet unknowingly killing the living

 

Did God advocate destruction? When He gave man

the power to conquer earth, did He?

Did God give man power to pursue currency?

At the expense of humanity. And nature 

Gone With The Wind

 With boundless energy,

A cocktail of childish glee and invention,

We chased butterflies that painted the place

With a cornucopia of colors

They lithely flew away, darting our tiny hands

Before we knew it, they’d be gone

Leaving us tired and wasted

But we knew seasons were about to change

Now the butterflies are gone

To a world unknown

 

Sulking and throwing useless tantrums

We’d troop to the river to fetch water

Mother’s warning ringing in our ears

‘Pay attention lest you drown’

 Now the river trickles like a child’s piss

Black rocks stare at us as if in deep shame

For having their nakedness exposed

The banks have receded tremendously

Like a bald man’s receding hair

 

Days gone, the area was blanketed by trees

And stories of ogres were way too real

The rustling leaves, dancing in the wind

Made us think of the ogres’ whispers

But not anymore. The land is barren

You can see the horizon

The land has been stripped bare

Leaving it as alluring a witch’s nakedness

The Future Is A Lie

 The future is one big fat lie 

It is a large neon sign in the sky 

That human ignore as they toil 

Investing in a day they may not see 

The future is one big illusion 

One that has been accepted in every station 

A bright future awaits you, the lie 

And an innocent kid's soul is lost in a mundane pursuit 

The future is an unfathomable lie 

Your employer wants you to work first  - sigh 

Your landlord wants your rent first 

The landlord is right. He accepts the futility of the future 

What is a future if not mere accumulation of seconds?

And the past one is gone forever

The succeeding one so fleeting 

And when all these are combined together 

You will realise that we are barely alive more than a second each 

The Circle Begins Again

it feels like the sun 

going round and round earth 

indefatigable 

shining as it has for eons 

and each day 

it trudges up the sky

hour by hour 

until it descends into the horizon 

it feels like you are the sun 

only without purpose 

without light 

dimming everything around you 

you are a sun 

you love the circles 

gathering hours and hours 

of wasted dreams 

 

The Bright Day Drips

 The bright days drips its seconds

At the same rate it did thousand years ago

The dreamers bake their souls in the sun

The doers drain themselves in the sun

And time wills itself, effortlessly away,

As it is wont when one desires it still

Mocking the dreamer expertly weaving excuses

For the day he made excuses his mantra

He had long since stopped living

Except because it takes too much effort

To stop breathing – to stop breathing while poor