Pulling Strings | Ananya S. Guha
It started with Vietnam.
Then Bangladesh, then
Iran, Iraq, Palestine, sub-continental Africa,
what about India?
Guess.
Who is pulling slimy strings
of favour and disfavour?
It started with Vietnam.
Then Bangladesh, then
Iran, Iraq, Palestine, sub-continental Africa,
what about India?
Guess.
Who is pulling slimy strings
of favour and disfavour?
Fathers and Sons: Love Redux
My dad wasn’t wordy
I can’t remember affection
He never told me he loved me
If he did, I don’t remember it
Strong silent type he was
I grew up quiet
Till I started to speak more
Then everyone wished I’d shut the hell up
My mom told me my dad loved us very much
I wanted to hear it from him
On my wedding day he said it
Collectively in a toast he pronounced his love grandly
I always wanted more from him
I wanted his knowledge, his craft
He’s gone 20 years now
I’m still trying ……
I’m an oak with rings ingrain
My heart is a woodcut carving
My soul a gnarled wooden cane
No longer prevents my falling.
I’m a mountain-pine-forest
A field of flattened wheat:
A no-man’s-land, a gauntlet
Thrown, down in beseech
Of-war, of-madness or friendship
Take your pick; I am ready, for all.
I have sharpened and whetted,
Sheaved my blade; heeding its call.
I have vanquished-my-enemies
One and all to see them lonesome fall
I have rewritten they’re own parodies.
In my turn stood, equally tall.
I have ignited into blossom,
And unfurled to catch sight
Every flower my breath can bosom
Hold to itself in the dead of night.
More at https://www.ctupublishinggroup.com/mark-andrew-heathcote.html.
it’s hard to be hip after seventy
abandon hope all ye who enter
keep your opinions from calcifying
and your beliefs will astound you
humor, not memory, is your ally
love and laughter bring others along
honor your white hair and wrinkles
they’ll stay faithful until the end
gather wildflowers
be thankful and rejoice
Dedicated my nice Romanian friend Vasile
Sweet soul,
Sweet heart in the chest,
A sweet symphony
Sweet heart,
Sweet heart in the chest,
A sweet symphony
Slum dwellers are erratic
why look
dwelling in slums
they smell
their food is molten ash
why look
turn your faces (off them)
your bodies must not come close to theirs
why look
slum dwellers die with the hurricane, calm the storm
and before it dies banish
them.