MY SEARCH
The world is going, going berserk
With all its toil and hard work
There seems no time for leisure
For little joy, a simple pleasure
Life is, oh, so machine-like
Every hour, every day seems alike
The futility of living bores me
Its importance I just cannot see
Where can I find the kind of life
That’s free from every war and strife
My soul longs for that inner peace
From pain and sorrow final release
Worries will haunt me not
When I have found what I have sought.
COMMUTING
The mad, mad rush
To catch a train, a bus.
The jostling, pushing, pulling claws,
The spewed venom, the fight of jaws.
The cackling, chattering, bickering mob.
The utter indifference to an unheard sob.
Litter litters around the floor,
Heavy luggage blocks the door.
Beggars, fishers, eunuchs enter,
Hawkers pile on, right, left and centre.
Uncensored displays, perverted lines,
Juvenile feelings and lovers’pines.
Fetid smells - they often appear
Warning people to steer clear.
Warning signs, the signal light
Don’t come within the focus of sight
People walk and talk and sing
The cacophony is shattering.
A sudden halt; a thousand curses,
A shroud is brought and nurses.
Blood shed all in vain
A reckless man dies in pain.
Crowds gather; a splendid hall
Papers read; policies passed
Applauses; great speeches heard.
Its all finalized in written word.
Tea served; gossip spread
Praises sung of the Head.
Then in pomp they all file out
The path with paper strewn about.
A silver dawn; new hope is born
The railway starts another day
Alas! But just like yesterday.
These poems were published on 11 April 2010 in Sunday Mirror
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