PLETHORA OF TASKS

5/09/2013

       

PLETHORA OF TASKS

The many women that I knew and left,

The plethora of tasks left incomplete,

The flood of duties that would drown me,

Together with all moral obligations,

And edicts, censures, and parental sermons

That have survived this ninety year old maelstrom,

Should I recant?

I should have cherished every woman in my sight,

And turned my back on tasks be they complete or not.

I should have swum across this gulf of duties,

And loved my parents though dethroned, made human.

Fear of authority and lack of trust in self –

Am I at ease with people in command?

Do I believe myself?

I Live in a Room

I live in a room and I sleep alone

In a bed that is just three feet wide.

I know I am old and I venture with care

From my room to the world outside.

I remember quite clearly I used to sprint

From meeting to meeting and chat

With the boss of group A and with manager B

And the girl who wrote down what was said.

At that time I attempted to know it all

And occasionally gained the respect

Of the boss of group A and manager B,

And the girl who wrote down what was said.

Yet now I no longer am leader supreme,

And the girl who would write down my uttering

Would still write it down, but in modified form

So it’d seem that I spoke without stuttering.

10 February 2009

Gravity

25/08/2013

                            Gravity

There are two dints in my near hairless skull

Reminding me that gravity is not

My friend.

Indeed it’s gravity that fixes mountains

And causes rivers to proceed downstream,

Not up.

But when I crouched in order to retrieve

A piece of paper from the spotless floor

I fell.

Thus gravity will pull without concern

For right or wrong or any consequence

That hurts.

Waiting Room

19/08/2013

WAITING ROOM


Excuse me knocking on your door;I know it’s not my turn.
But frankly I am sick to death
Of waiting all forlorn
In this gigantic waiting room. 
The exit is controlled
By what you did and how you lived
By what you thought and dreamt.
I filled in all the paperwork
About my life to date.
And when the paper curled in shame
About my evil deeds,
I kept on writing nonetheless
Believing stubbornly
That sins confessed and truly rued
Will shrink and slink away.

Walking Slowly

13 August 2013

WALKING SLOWLY

He walked a lot slower than ever;

And nobody walked by his side.

He smiled and he walked even slower

And he thought about death.

He’d encounter

His mistress, his wife and his daughter,

His passion, his home, and his pride.

Tears

18 July 2013

The wind lashed at the trees. The rain

Cascaded down the trunk, and sprays

Like tears of sorrow dropped upon

The ground beneath the leaves above…

No, no!

The bark and branches, leaves,

Do not have feelings of regret,

No soul, no realm of fantasy.

I will not change my vulnerable state

For earlier links in our chain of life.

By Request

24 June 2013

By request.

I do believe the life of any woman

In this the twenty-first of centuries

Revolves around the morals and the ethics

Prevailing now.

Morality has left the stage as leading lady,

A sacrifice to strict emancipation.

Ethics will always claim their pride of place

And do engender

The never ending talk and disputation

About what’s right, what’s wrong, or in between.

But women’s first concern will always be:

What is my weight?

What do I wear today?