A PLANT

as the water seep through the cracks
the age old rock splits gradually
promising a new life for the green plant
to peep towards the mighty sun.

two leaves blossomed from a small tiny plant
a sign of nature’s bounty for patiently waiting
a wait for mother’s soothing care
to entertain the puberty, a journey into adolescence.
from two, grows another few
into a new world the plant begin to rise
everything new, yet in steady growth its going
enjoying the light of the sun in the day
hibernating in the darkness without sun in the night.

months passes by, sign of expansion in nature
imminent growth become prominently dominant
the leaves and trunks speaks and sway to the wind god
leaving the branches for the birds to perch upon
while its roots journey within into the depth of the earth
paying homage to the secret of its ultimate steadiness.

through the years the plants become wary
of enemies surrounding
the plant becomes trustful of friends perching
as the air gently rubs its soft leaves
it wish to move freely conquering the ether’s openness
what done by nature, can the mortal tree undone?
nay…it learns to live rooted in the spot same
witnessing the civilization that passes by.

story comes and goes as history with man
but the tree stand tall
smile beckons the pride
the tree satisfactorily happy
that a righteous upright growth it has lived up to now
by providing shelter and food to many travelers in time.

one day its fear grows
unknown to it uneasiness creeps
into its veins it feel sad.
funny sounds walks daily towards the tree
its being told…the sound is nothing but modernization.
from the peak, its tiny leaves spotted a dinosaur
grazing the land in distant
and yet many say its nothing but modernization.
the wail of the dinosaur getting closer
and the clearing too getting wider.

it worries a lot
“what is modernization?”
a quest rises from within the existence.

i know one day
dinosaur the caterpillar
will make the trunk kiss the earth.

poor tree.

©by cyclopseven

WHAT’S AHEAD

Clouds ,vague and nebulous throng the horizon,
The future can and will be abnoxious.
The veracity profound will be evident,
When God’s trident turns around.
“All men are equal but
Some men are more equal than others”
Is an age old adage come true,
When the current disparity does accrue.
Man is a social being,
When he says that straight and heaving.
Bleak and ominous sounds the impending,
When justice fraught is refused a hearing.
Great does the common man pine,
His ideals of truth being the merest moonshine.
Long and hard might be his rhetoric ,
He ‘ll never cease being a heretic.
God himself ought to come down to earth,
But he’ll lucky enough if he gets a berth.

yesterday once more..

all it needed
to be One again
was a look
into your specksy eyes (smile)
see the Timeless love
reflected back
the Oneness ..so stark
stared back
Eyes smiled
Hearts sang
Bodies clung
as we
celebrated love
once more...
~Joy~

Surgeon's Day Out

A Surgeons’ day out

White coated messiahs on the run,
The scenic splendour redolent of an egregious pun.
Heuristic Hacks hogging all the fun,
Leaving the patient nary enough for a tea and bun.
Sanctimonious Platitudes ,reeking of Hippocrates
(who incidentally should be turning over in his grave not unlike a vortex mixer)
With the Pragmatic morals of third rate Hypocrites.
Entréz Jean Pasia, with a broken tooth from Eurasia,
Who on post-surgical recuperation,was a major supplicant for Euthanasia.
Loss of the surgeon’s favorite Speculum,
Unerringly Led the trial Straight up to Passia’s Atrium.
He had pummelled the piece in,
But sort of forgotten it ,by the din.
The grounds were lack of competence,
Ubiquitous mediocrity, overtly complacent.
Judge Steele,who upheld the appeal,
Ordered Pasia Hung by his heel.
Erroneous though be the mundane,
The verdict at least was more humane.

pride?

when vultures prey on human
can man claim pride of culture?
when rascals born of hell, ride merry on sins
can man claim pride thumping his chest?
when fire engulf till ashtray the world become
can superiority be claimed prize of pride?
when no one around to reach and hug
can pride exist in loneliness?
when the divine superior concealed beneath immorality
can the hypocrites claim the pride being religious?
when the reign of heaven, unto darkness dissappears
can mankind in entirety parade their pride?

copyright © cyclopseven

the inevitable

“its inevitable
we can’t stop certain things in life"
my friend's echo playing again in my mind.

"that which should happen must happen
don’t stop, the bile will kill you.
you must clear it before it clears you,
find a place suitable
free from red army - red ants
hidden and safe
lay rest awhile
enjoy the falling water,
once done
come out cheerfully.
never stop it
pass it blissfully
if you feel so,
the urine”

copyright © cyclopseven

Forgive me my friends by cyclopseven

one day my heartbeats shall stop
leaving the residue of life in the sands of time,
sooner, or maybe later
the call may arrive, unexpectedly.

to all my friends
known and unknown
from near and far,
any mistakes intentionally made
any mistakes unintentionally done
please undone the knots of anger and frustrations,
in forgiveness release me please
for in death i know not
whether i'll speak.

time given today, perhaps tomorrow another day
i may be around, a few words let me say
leaving is not as important as living
by living the right way, the leaving will be light full of bliss.
i came for a purpose, i wish i know that well
alas! human we are, the limitations imposed made us far
from god and man we wander away
seeking materials unknown for trifle play.
while energy is still high
render the deeds good,
sin not any souls that you come to meet
including the trees, creepers and mountains so high
for each bow we pay in respect
nature vows to keep us blissfully intact.

my dear friends
days may come and go
friends may come and go too
yet true ones hold a spot so dear
we know, with them we don’t have to fear.
bountiful life is a way to joy
a careful driver is surely to rejoice
the harvest here and hereafter, if in the highway
he travels with tolerance, peace and truth.

these are the simple messages
from prophets, saints and sages
time yonder, they come from
seeking us for good, they thronged,
beautiful indeed this life will be
if everyone live the way that’s to be.

goodbye i shall now say
for, time is not in my grip
anytime, at any place and anyhow
he may come, the divine rider
as passenger he will take me
i hope, not in fright
but to a greater height.

suddenly i feel
i have to say all these,
forgive me my friends
for the soul do not cast a word
after it is removed by the divine sword.

copyright cyclopseven

Barber by cyclopseven

Welcome brother, welcome
Have a sit and correct your posture,
That was his gesture
The first shower before torture.

He sent me a shiver
When he wipe the razor
With a woolen towel,
He made me shrivel
I could feel movement of my bowel.

A razor on the right hand
On the left hand a scissor,
He stood awhile looking at the mirror
His eyes blazed, and sent me into terror.

He came closer, touched my head gently
"Where are you from brother?" he asked me politely,
Before I could deliver the answer
He placed right on the left side of my head, his scissor.

Then all the way he talked I listened
The trimming of hair hastened,
I feared if he as speed as lightning
Make a piece of my ear, frightening!!

Friday the 13^th flashed brightly
When the razor he took lightly,
Slowly he moved the razor to graze
My sideburns which have over grown were razed.

Like a baby his gentle touch lifted my jaw
I stared at his face, his teeth like saw,
My throat he rubbed tenderly
Reminded me of feelings, motherly.

As he talked again the razor he placed near my throat
It choked me to think, could this be the end of a silent battle?,
The razing sound of my beard being shaved, sent a chill down the spine
I said to myself, this moment I shall never wipe from my mind.

Then he patted me at the back of my head
All done my brother, please let me know your taste,
If anything wrong with the cut fashioned
Make sure you come tomorrow for a correction.

I drew my wallet out and paid him five
His look was weird as if he was high
He told me this, “last month, a man I accidentally sliced”
“From beginning I was wondering what a familiar face you are”
“Then I remembered the man I sliced, looked the way you are”
“thank god, the lord was with you today”
“I just had two bottles of Chivas to kick my wife away”

And he slumped like dead on the bench
Huh…at razor’s edge, in blood I almost drenched!

Copyright by cyclopseven

Nature’s lamentation by cyclopseven

my heart stopped awhile
when my mind told me a lie
unbelievable though, and wild
it will make the world cry.
fire weeps of unbearable heat
water yells of too much aridity
wind feels the heat without cold breeze
space crammed without a place
ether suffers lack of everything

huh… i sigh in utter disbelieve.
will it happen?

i dare not say
but if it does
we won’t have time to pray
together we will disintegrate into His play.

Copyright by cyclopseven

why I was born?

why I was born?

I would be silly to ask
why I was born and
it would sound as
meaningless and dogmatic
to question the very
design of cosmic
mystery.why?I am
perfectly happy and proud
to counteract the people like
you,to pose a question why
you were born?like thorns to
be brushed aside,
I ask my mom who sings a
lullaby to my little brother
in a pram,the very same
question,she replies
with a smile that it is the will
of God that we are born
so that a few are torn out of
jealousy to sling arrows of poison
and calumny,to drive us more
mature and poised and more
pious and devout.

What is it like to live without sorrow?

If anyone could tell me
I would like to know
What is it like to live without sorrow?

I have come across
Different castes, different religions
All share the same opinion
Life is nothing but a mixture of joy and sorrow
If you are in pain today, you will be happy tomorrow
In spite of all this
I would like to know
What is it like to live without sorrow?

Life given by God
Is too precious to waste
He has put all the ingredients
In the dish He's cooked for us
A little of smile and few drops of tears
Some excitement, anxiety and fears
But as I walk on the road, high and narrow
I wonder -
What is it like to live without sorrow?

© Arti Honrao

prayful snooze by cyclopseven

one day
while i pray
suddenly i went away
i didnt know where but somewhere.
its neither far nor near
but deeper and sweeter
somewhere in the ether
i was floating hither and thither.
i refused the body, a garment i wear
in prayer i asked for a permanent wear
the divine energy that only share.
my request was gently pushed ashore
when the shadow of my left hand
pulled my right hand
sudden awakening
embraced me from further slip
and my shadow said
"my dear partner, wake up you're daydreaming"!!

His word

His love is his word
has no boundary
his life is his word
has no limit
his word....
lamp to my feet
his word....
light to my path
his word....
food for my soul
his word....
is love
love is him
his word....
is life
life is him

liberation by cyclopseven

the trail of night
leave not the traces of life in sight
as contemptuous look of scornful man
heave a sigh at the dying light.
the oppressors roar of might
scares not the traveler of night
as he stride past the growl and pride
of the despicable lions of south.
as panther he dashes forward
carrying bravery of valiant inconceivable
to conquer the lower desires
for a fight of highest order
liberation liberation liberation
every cells of him cries for a nation.

time by cyclopseven

time passes by leaving us 'old'
not because the clock ticks away
rather because eternity endlessly play.
the past present and future
aren’t different pathways,
rather same path with different sway.
mankind wears watch
encircling the wrist,
the brand and pattern steals the heart of many
while the price, the status and durability plays host.

the needle ticks with every move
beyond it moments idling away
with present living, swirls in fantasy dancing
many man forgotten the essence of right living.
the substance gets wild void of mental presence
living the present in a coffin
the living dead worrying more on past evenings
and future mornings,
abandoning the now as dirt thrown
they rush restless ahead in greedy frown.

who cares
time smiles
and stroll passing the age
in teardrops mankind writes the story
story of the shadowy journey swallowed by time.

' Him '

deep... inside
so... light
so... nice
so... beautiful
the kind of feelings
no words to describe
tears in my eyes
glow on my face
whenever i see ' Him '
my heart smiles
it is beautiful
no words to describe
the kind of feelings
I realise
' Him ' the one
I have been longing for
' Him ' the one
I have been looking for
' Him ' the one
I have been waiting for
the kind of feelings
no words to describe
I am in love with ' Him '
' Him ' the only ' Him '

the little girl by cyclopseven

the little girl dragging her feet
with grit she hurried to pluck the lily

for her mummy whom she loves very much
a lily she gave as prize of her passion for her mother.
a little girl's language of love
the lily's awesome beauty
touched the mum's loving eyes
and mum's tears of heart flowed non-stop.
little girl stared and wondered
why must my mum cry when i offered her the beauty?
a question she pondered upon
understanding not , what the maternal tears for.
only the mum knew why
her compassion rolled in teardrops

her daughter, the little girl

a cerebral palsied child

given short hope to love and live

yet so great her love

for the womb that gave her to the world.

despite contorted arms that shorten the stretch

and grasp as soft as the lily's petal

the little girl presented the wonder

without a petal dropped from the lily

a fine touch, a gentle grasp she possessed

a mother's heart couldn't bear

that such a soul, though plays little role

not later but sooner

into the creation

the little girl will disappear.

mum's tears cool the earth

in gratitude she bowed to mother earth

"when the day come

please place her tight in your arm"

mum bowed again to mother earth.

in tears she walked the steps

the little girl had wandered

hoping for traces of blessed wonders

that almighty miracle will be a reality

adding more years for her little girl

to allow her to make friends in the garden

and live a beauty, one with the lilies.

the divine by cyclopseven

the divine
a puerile gentleness
that pervades that mighty existence
in it,
the mighty is a pervasive signature
where,
each atom is in perfect juxtaposition
a symbol,
of unified ingenuity
the divine creatrix.

Teachers' Day Celebration in India

Teacher’s Day in India is today-
Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan’s birthday;
A great educationist, Indian;
A former President of our nation;
A teacher par excellence;
An exemplary role-model to all.

Let’s celebrate this day
In a special way,
By remembering our teachers,
Who’d taught us all these years.

A teacher is a tutor;
A teacher is a scholar;
A teacher is a special friend;
A guide and philosopher
In students’ lives- a Godsend!

Our teachers are great minds;
Our teachers are rare finds;
Their love and precept binds
As students’ life-years winds!

God bless our teachers (dears);
God give them healthy years;
God meet their wants sans fears,
And make them mighty seers.

Like parents, he/she rears;
God rank them as great peers;
But keep them free from tears,
When their life’s end nears.

Dedicated most respectfully to
all our beloved teachers
on 5th September, 2006
Copyright by Dr John Celes, India

Starcast * * *

The stars they dance around my sign
my destiny to define.
The Sun ,the moon play hide n seek
Joys eclipse and sorrows trine.

Foretell a new love in the wings
bearing gifts of love so true
But first I must sweep clean the stage
With tears clear all thats due.

Free Will of a soul resigned
watches Fate at play
Much abused and much refused
by Gods that had feet of clay.

The Selfish saga strains to end
sprouting sudden shades of grey
While silence plays a quiet reveille
silent screams my heartscape rend.

Its curtain call for love today.
No more ! Never ! sobs the soul.
Oh stars go shine someplace else
Theres nothing left to flay.




~Joy~

when i see
i see not the light that lightens my vision
but i see the objects of manifestation
my desires envisioned,
if the flow of this illusion last
in gradual cessation
i may die of temptations.