montecyril

The worthless evil of treachery; God’s dust is not dirt!: A poem

(You know that God is not responsible for the downfall of everything he stands for! He is not to blame, because he risks his own identity from being stolen!) I agree with Sylvia Plath that a poem is dust But would we be so sure that even dust must consolidate, to make us form, all of us? Sometimes,Continue reading “The worthless evil of treachery; God’s dust is not dirt!: A poem”

I have set my ground between Mars and Venus!: A poem

I suddenly felt I was an ever-enlarged tower reaching into the heart of the sky As if I had become Sandalphon The trunk of the tallest entity ever I think of the days I became strange to Sol Invictus And even felt lost with Ares How every friend I had counted on felt like an enemy?! Did the loneliness last an eternity? But now, I think even Sandalphon doesn’t hold aContinue reading “I have set my ground between Mars and Venus!: A poem “

Hey Prakash Saint Paul, you think you are so indispensable, that you can make your evil cruel, treacherous demands on everybody. You don’t even care if Jashmina is consigned to her doom because of it! Shame! Shame! Shame!

I am not King Ahah, O Jezebel of Jerusalem!: A poem

I don’t think I was King Ahah to slip between the thighs into an underworld, so demonic, that it tore my substance and broke my spine. There is such power in allure that it emblazons lust and breaks into an inferno, where you don’t burn but submerge into brine. O Jezebel, can you even bely King Solomon with your guile and spook his wisdom? Continue reading “I am not King Ahah, O Jezebel of Jerusalem!: A poem “

I have this conviction; I have this vocation: A poem

Way back in my growing years, I lived in a community that practised its Catholicism quite unawares of the shakiness of its structure of fervent piety on the undergrowth of an abandoned past. Nobody gave a thought to revolt about forced conversion being a crime. Even me, with an already hidden wisdom, at the age of four, in my first essay on myself, wroteContinue reading “I have this conviction; I have this vocation: A poem “

Socrates: An unexamined life is not worth living: A poem

Would you have known virtue from spiritual folly had you ventured to look at your reflection? Or would you just breathe in gloating at your apparent beauty? Were you conditioned to believe in enhancements, grooming, make-up, nose-jobs and botox? I would have wondered to tell an age that wants to make itself sexually appealing that there is only a loose beauty in your idea of beauty,Continue reading “Socrates: An unexamined life is not worth living: A poem “

Love is a soulful absenteeism in its presence: A poem

Do you think you feel a disconnectedness with sanctity, a loss of personal structure, a kind of colossal fall from self-dignity, an erosion of the soul (because your soul is also made up of the love you feel for others) due to betrayal? I know that I don’t take chances with love because I am strongly discerning! Not many fit into the eliteContinue reading “Love is a soulful absenteeism in its presence: A poem “

I am simply baring to dare, if you should test my powers!: A poem

I just seem to feel like the summer heat is getting under my skin. But at least the yellow Crown of Thorns in my balcony has not died like the rest of my flowering plants; even though it doesn’t have its earlier glow. The petunias died; I didn’t even bid them bye! What is love and caring, without the personal feel! Would youContinue reading “I am simply baring to dare, if you should test my powers!: A poem “

You know your identity details, you bodygrabbing morphers; so GET LOST!: A poem

(Do you want to have the bodies and eat them too!) Do you think I am a lucid sky that wants to fall into your drainpipe I just think that I have my walls strengthened in every handicap I feel enraged at times, but my humour prefers the mockery of all such treachery that wants to take the flowers I’ve nourished Continue reading “You know your identity details, you bodygrabbing morphers; so GET LOST!: A poem “

The cross-swords of love and hate, an obstacle or deserved ominous violent subtlety: A poem

I can make you think for yourselves But I can’t overwhelm your thinking with my pedagogue I am just no tradition of despots running propaganda The mean machine of today’s liberalism often assigns fascism to people with convictions. You can’t be prudish in being principled. Yes, there are donkeys that carry the burden of blame For all of you to earn your salvationContinue reading “The cross-swords of love and hate, an obstacle or deserved ominous violent subtlety: A poem “