Sunday, November 2, 2008

The Utopian Cockaigne

At the luxuriance of the dining table
Idleness and gluttony natters,
Tittle-tattle tales and gossipy rendezvous
Sugar, cake, pastries, cheese and wine…

Mild weather and free-flowing sex,
All worldly pleasures at hand,
Non-ascetic and superfluity,
And fulfillment of all wishes

Blindfolded Contentment
In their Utopian Cockaigne Land
Ignorant blinkers
To hell with the world

A corroborated harsh truth,
Goliards verse, I sing again.

Rain Forest

The distant sight
Of a crane in the woods,
Where I once plucked mangoes
And the gardener running after me,

I would paint alfresco,
Of the lush dense forest trees,
And now I see,
A squirrel running on the land of her lost home

Euphonious sounds of the birds in bevy,
Still echo in mind,
I take a sudden 360 degree turn
The drilling machine drills further

I wander away, disconcerted
By this sudden sense,
Of having been cut…
The axe hacks my torrid emotions

Under my tutelage,
It grew tall more than I could see,
For them, a mere bagatelle,
Callous intentions, a leaf dead…

My precious tear died on my cheek,
Fingers crinkled,
And I ran to embrace,
The bark of my soul…

Men moved away,
As I clung to conserve,
And vociferous voices swirled,
As slogans reverberated in the air…

We all hugged,
A woman’s love to keep a forest…
And the joy of,
Traversing in deep woods…