Dad, Listen To This Son of Yours

Greetings from your son,
Mind not the voice he has,
But listen to his word.

He wishes you a happy Father's Day,
He looks up to you,
As days go by,
And months take a stride.

He knows soon he will have a son,
And he will be a dad too,
He wants you to know,
That after you he may like to take,
He says he is proud of you.

He wants to be a Dad too,
Of his family he doesn't want to make a fool,
With love, he wants to fill them to the brim,
He wants to lead a rim of grins.

He says he loves you,
And he will be a replica of you.

Life is Fair

[ Yesterday and Tomorrow are just two sides of the same coin]

I breathe fire,
My nose smells tyres,
I see a dark silhoutte,
Remains of a faithful citizen,
A member of the small congregation downtown,
Only that his hands were made of cold magnet,
All we did was warm them with rubber,
And now he lies like rubble.

My stomach rumbles,
The shop to my right is pregnant with hanging food,
My eyes cant just turn away,
I wish my pocket could talk as I walk,
But all I feel there is the breeze,
Coming down from my scratched thighs,
Up through the hole that the mice made.

Ouch!
Did my feet greet stone?
Well, they are used to worse things anyway.
To my right is tarmac,
But will my feet absorb all that heat?
Well, I sigh.

Let me move to my favorite spot.

This is my seat,
A fallen electricity pole,
Painted with posters three years old,
All begging for turnouts.

My mind goes back to those days,
When their sweet vowels fed our hungry ears,
When their voices rang in our heads,
In the confines of the voting booth,
When to their cunning talk we fell prey.

I watch the sun set,
A big brown ball,
I stare at it, setting slow and steady,
Through a set of illuminated clouds.

In it, I see a replica of my heart,
Red from long time bruises,
It has passed through many clouds,
And I know its on its way to set.

I sigh,
I dont want to walk in the dark,
I will be lucky to sleep with my feet,
Yet I dont want to walk in the light,
My son will ask for a grant,
Anyway, he knows I work,
If at all he knew that everything that avoided me today is work.

Anyway, I will do what I do best,
Pretend that everything is alright,
And look forward to the same old dawn,
With a tired body and soul.

She Turned on Tuesday

Wednesday

When the week was at its peak,
When no one felt sick,
She made her mind fade,
She made her presence fade,
A deep worry she did create

Thursday

When the week became weak,
When no heart felt sleek,
She made a sullen stare,
A stare with closed eyes.
A deep worry she did create.

Friday

When the week swayed like a reed,
When anxiety was at its peak,
At her I did peep,
Her far breath in dire need,
All I needed her to do was breathe.

Saturday

When the smiles reigned,
And brains were put to rest,
By her bed side I was put to test,
A rest with no rest,
A test of faith,
A taste of passion.

Sunday

When the hymn-scented morning breeze waved,
Her limb I did sway,
And it danced, I let it dangle,
Like the pendulum at the doctor's slay table
My heart felt amiss.

Monday

When sullen tired faces reigned,
My forlon look reigned,
By her side, a prayer escaped my pursed lips,
Her blank stare behind lids,
I wished I could see her white eyes,
Even in her coma.

Tuesday

When my hope went lower,
She turned,
And all I did was to hope again,
This time, with a pack of joy.

Shred My Tears

My well has run dry,
My hopes have tumbled from high,
My pain eats up my spine and thigh,
I feel sun dried.

My cry wandered everywhere but ears,
All I did was shed waves of tears,
As my chest heaved with no fears.

But now shred my tears,
I want to see them no more,
Shred them till they shed tears,
I want to see my shreded tears,
I want to smile at them.