Against A Sun Spot

Man the helpless victim of catastrophic change

Man the giant amongst all prodigies of nature

Man!

Left helpless against a sun spot!

Cure my friends?

Death!

Sweet and senile

Sweet hazy blotch in time

Man the great wonder of atomic change

Carbon catalysm of a tonne years

Man

Left forgotten

To be forgot.

Recall of surrealism

Remembrance of a dozen dreams

Membrane of eternity

If we are forgot

Who will remember?

Nature needs us

As much as the gods

All'S forgotten

By the death of my dream

WAKE UP!

Dark platform.

Two Lights

One on a young boy.

Another,

Softer. Older.

On the old man.

"What happens when we die father?", the boy asks

The soft lighted silhouette replies,

"The world ends when you die my son,

The world ends when you die"

Ribbons Don't Cure AIDS

Ribbons red, Ribbons blue
Ribbons of some Strange hue
Ribbons rabid Roughly staged
Ribbons around Necks aged
Ribbons stiff Symbols cool
Ribbons for Them to drool
Ribbons stuck Atop shirts
Ribbons mark Flimsy nerds
Ribbons for a Cause great
Ribbons listlessly Prate
Ribbons don’t Cure 'AIDS'

Take a step empty crates
And make your fingers thoroughly straight
Marked by lives, not deaths
Let girlish ribbons mark those girlish steads

We need no marks and symbols cool
We need a permanent cure You Fool
Something worth the While
Something, Like a smile

Or mark a ribbon upon my grave
Mark it bold with my late name
And Ribbons shall sway
And wither away
But Ribbons Don’t cure 'AIDS'

- Ripples Of Collections Of Those Things

Do We Have A Cure

Lets get On a Ride

upon a Highway

Down on the night

to Decide

Which Cure we Deserve

-Ripples Of Collections Of Those Things

The Birth Of Man Was the Death Of Superman

We were Enslaved and Forced
To feel the Hour
The Promise

We were Enslaved and Forced
To feel the Spirit
The Darkness

Mouse Thrones and Bottle Fears
We felt the dense dark cloud
that leapt into our hearts
and chained our souls

We were Enslaved and Forced
To feel We had lost
Our Freedom

We Truely Felt Enslaved and Forced
And knew We had lost
Our Future




"When Superman let Religion

Supercede his Superiority

in all his Stupidity

MAN was Born

As the

Decadence of Superman"



- Ripples of Collections of Those Things

To Grant Its Burning Wisdom

Will can not Conquer

The Blue Singing Sea

Men are either humbled

Or forever Deceased

Under the rage

Of the burning blue

Capricious saline Flower

Of Spirits and Souls

That Float beneath

The silent calm

Of this Eternal

Foam

"Oh! Beautiful

Oh! Beguiled

Womb of change

Grant some wisdom

To the Dry

And

The Dying"

The Flutter Of The Butterfly

“Now our history will be glorified
So, now our men can rape their daughters and sisters in broad day-light”

- Danish Jamal

The day has begun again
Yet again it has begun
With the sound of
Of thundering guns
The day has begun.

The marching patriots:
Patriots marching towards
The seas of land that they
Shall waste at hand
And hand the dead
As they march for
Patriotism

They will meet men with guns
Guns with men, and women
Hurt, naked women; defenseless
And the patriots shall march
Above the men
And around the women.

The guns shall march
And bullets shall march
And the petals shall tremble
As the solders march
And blood shall flow
From the mouth of men
And wombs of women.

The sounds of glory:
The glorious sound
Has defended the patriot
Of the scream of the butterfly
The women that moan and
Flutter, before they fly.

But its all justified:
Justified it is
For in the name of a country
They fight
And fight it is.

"Those that survive are willed to die at a more brutal hour
Amongst more pain and agony,
That is the purpose of war. To conquer lands _ empty lands."



- Ripples Of Collections Of Those Things

Pigs Are Drunk On Red Haste

One Bucket to live by

A single bread to eat

Shared between a family

Perched on earthen seat

The dry months

The dry mouths

The hungry depraved

What have YOU given?

What have you taken?

To your silent grave.

Glimering, glittering Chairs

Red pens, marks, signatures

Demanding; approving colonists

Feeding pigs with fake dentures

And they wonder "what prices?"

What labels and what gods?

Why recession, ineffectiveness

One dime gamed, two dimes lost

Where is the food?

Where is the key?

Where are the streets?

WHO cares?

What of their needs?

Where is the promised smile?

Where are the promised crops?

What happened to the negotiations?

You stuffed it in your socks?

You forgot the families

While working on your lies

You fight for Janpath lane

While the poor deprived dies

Welcome to masspolitial disorder

Here disoriented beings have sworn to bring order

And then the common man lays back and wonders

Why us? WHO? US? WHy?

* Inspired by a poem "dry song"

by Shinjini Singh A.K.A Missy didi

Evolutional Disorder

“We are
Working with ancient solutions
And

Crying over modern failures”

- From Ripples Of collections of those Things

Of Sadness.

I merely find a broken hull

anchoring

drowning

the ship of sadness

of sadness.

- From Ripples Of collections of those Things

It Is Done Forever

Like Petals and Waves

Your Face

Smells

of Now and forEver

As On that mountain

I saw your face

Shimmering

Trembling to steal

my sight

but instead_you stole me.

Will you, return

to my arms

that pallet of reality

which sweats

in the colors of terrible pain

I want to catch the leaves

of your voice,

the weather under your breath.

I want the demands of those

brown wood eyes,

the truth of their touch.

I want to feel_that 'I'

am yours

and You are mine.

In this rabid

heart ache

I find no glory, no misery.

I merely find an absence

further from far

gnawing at nothing, everything; All.

The silent tear

that tears

as it runs down

the past

I feel

the change is done Forever

It is done

forever

it is done forever

It is

done forever.

- From Ripples Of collections of those Things

Sugar

The craving
Gelatin
Sack in
Bit-ween
The legs,

Forms fluid wet thoughts
Surrender the snake flesh
In search of the dark purse
Beneath the salty forests

“Oh! sugar pie,
Come! Dance
The dance of death
Between your legs
Let’s stain the beds”

Born to suffer
And surrender
Yet she refuses,
They wonder!

“Come now sugar
Surrender to our guilt
We are the mob
From despair’s pit”

Held her wrist
Put a gun under
Yet she refuses
They wonder!

That pain.
The white sheet.
Touched and torn.
Jaws of the moon,
Jabbing at the ivory.

Sweet sugar melted
Screaming; rising tide
Blood moon pelted
With lust as its guide
We need to learn;
This Night!!
We Should…!!
We Must…!!

- Ripples Of Collections Of those Things