Poems by Lily Swarn
If love was the only religion
In the whole wide world
No one would make weapons
Eyes would be enough to kill
Votes need not be bought
Elections would be passé
Continental Chinese Indian
No pondering on menu cards !
The gourmet chef would serve
Gigantic doses of unlimited love
Let’s make love our religion
Let colours blend with joy !
Drop the maddening “me”
For once and look at the “we”
Its the river that romps ecstatically
Keeping you afloat on rafts of hope
Daring the squalls
Pushing the envelope
Getting you across morbid swamps
Circumventing icebergs of prodigious heights
Rapids hasten your journey
Whirlpools playfully jostle
Colossal breakers dash
As you ride the wave
High on life
In a beautiful
Pea green boat
The owl and the pussy cat !!
Green men ?
It’s not true is it that
Women have the slimy green
Hues of jealousy making haphazard
Slashes on their envious hearts
Far more than the male of the species ?
I have seen boy toddlers give a resounding
Smack on the head to the little cherubic fellow with the orange water bottle
They hate the chap with the delightful train shaped pencil box!
The moment the Adam’s apple appears in their throats
The girlish squeak becomes a cracked awkward sound emanating from their painfully shy mouths
Hair appears devilishly on their upper lips
The teenage mutant looks daggers at
His own best friend for chatting up the
Girl who sits on the first bench
You know the one with the seductive eyes ?
Life gets brutally tough in office or business
How dare that oily fellow get his tender passed ?
Inane discussions with vicious undertones of annihilating the competition buzz in their fevered minds
Plotting and planning to edge out their opponents in the battle for supremacy
The Alpha males twirling their moustaches all the way to the bank
Mumbling obscenities under their breath for anyone who dares to lead the pack !
The ladies smile patronisingly even a tad indulgently for isn’t it always
About the face that launched a thousand ships
The strut and the swagger of the closet jealous males
Masquerading as the cheerful back slapping guy
Who said women were jealous of each other ?
We just don’t know the art of hiding it well !!
We give ourselves away with our pouts and sinister stalking
Our jealousy is put on the clothes line like washing in the winter winds !!
SOME THOUGHTS ?
by alien emotions
Marauded by madness
of draconian laws
Cat footing on
Baked in fragrant
Oak wood fires
Toasted to a cinder by
Shot from hissing guns
Some thoughts simply
Vanish into thin air
Never to see the light
Of day ,cowering into
Petulantly sticking out
Their lower lips !
MY WHITE SHIRT
Why is his shirt whiter than mine ?
Is it because I was born underprivileged and miserable
Living in a God forsaken hovel
With not a drop of water in the
Women tear each other’s hair
for half a pot of the ambrosial fluid
Babies lurching side saddle on their hips
Hardly any precious liquid to wet the almost dead grandpa’s lips
Leave alone the wilted holy basil languishing in the tear streaked clay pot
The washing lies in a pathetic
bundled up in a smelly stinking corner
I pick up my sweaty perspiring shirt
Put it on over my bony eleven year shoulders
And walk off to the bicycle repair shop where I work my frail back off for a few rupees !
Yes,his shirt is lightning white
like the ones in the advertisements that I glance at on the television
in the shop across the street .
Copyright Lily Swarn 14.6.2016