Through a Worm's Eyes

 

The august group enthroned as D

Each seeing the other one’s face

It was the assembly of the annum

And it proceeded with proper grace!

And it proceeded with proper grace

 In a corner sat, a poor puny form

A creature of no drape and dignity

No one noted the worthless worm!

No one noted the worthless worm

But it studied the mouths that spoke

Reports were read with pompous port

The silence in wisdom as they broke!

The silence in wisdom as they broke

Chests and backs were thumped aloud

Empty vessels sounding much opined

And heads in apparent awe bowed!

And heads in apparent awe bowed

In a temple where honesty is bled

In sacrifice to honor greedy caprice

Justice is royally robed soon to be shred!

Tues, Oct 17, 2017

The Old Women Sitting beside the Road

The three old women from the Charity Home

Sit beside the road

On the brick fence

Watching the rushing traffic

Cars, buses, trucks, vans, motorcycles

People riding them are all strangers

Nobody waves at the old women

Nobody alights to speak to them

Yet, every afternoon at four

You’d find them lined by the road

Enjoying the maddening rush.

          How a person’s world shrinks

          When she grows old and weak

          One day years ago, she shopped in the market

          She visited her relatives with joy

          She hopped pandals after pandals

          Bowing to Durga idols reverently

          Rubbing shoulders with thousands others

          Munched puchkas with relishing cheeks

          At the streetside stalls         

          She perhaps had a job to earn

          However simple, however meager

          But that blessed her with self-respect

Now, she is stretching her hands

Doing whatever she can to prevent

Her world from shrinking

She called me to speak some words

I stood near her for two minutes

To lend my hand to her effort.

After some days perhaps

Her 3x6 feet cot will be her world

While the traffic on the road

Would keep zooming by!

Xavier Bage

Sat, Oct 14, 2017

Facebook Friends at Raw Riverside

Her face in her facebook profile

Was beautiful and attractive

Her classmates became friends soon

And later she gathered

Other friends through her close friends.

She boasted of the number

of friends she had in her circle

She interacted with them day and night

All of her free time,

Her eyes were at the screen.

Bus or train, home or college

She was tracing or tapping

Her finger tips on the sensitive surface

It was her companion with whom

She went to bed late night.

During the festive season

She was called by the closest boy friend

At the suburban railway station

She readily went to keep the appointment

The young man was waiting.

With two other boys he was waiting

The four walked to the riverside bushes

What happened behind, I know not

Next day, she was found lying

On the raw earth, bared and lifeless!

Xavier Bage

Tues, Oct 10, 2017

The Red Rose on the Railway Tracks

 

The young girl

Of eighteen or nineteen

On the railway station bench

Was talking to someone

Over her smartphone,

while commuters shuffled past her.

She appeared very angry

and agitated.

She said, “You cheat, scoundrel, devil!

You ruined me and now……………….”

She stood up and

Before anyone could stop her

She jumped down to the tracks

Before the upcoming,

Galloping train!

Oh God! Oh dear Lord!

Why should she throw her life

For a devil?

Xavier Bage

Mon, 09 Oct, 2017

The Chalice of Acid I Must Drink

Confess, it’s there within me

Like a bitter liquid, simmering

In the chalice of my heart

A sadness I can’t spill out;

Can’t share with anyone

Pungent like a corrosive acid

Burning the cup that contains it.

                                A dream has been snatched from me

                                
                                Not a part of my body but

                                To whom I gave a part of my soul

                                By iron hands and stony hearts

                                And a friend has flown far from

                                The line of trees, beyond vision

                                Beyond my desperate calls to return

The tears that fell from innocent eyes

Have corroded me to the deepest

Perhaps the rulers don’t know

These drops can spell curses

On them to decimate from earth --

Them and their offspring spoiled

As I drink this chalice to the dregs.

Xavier Bage

Wed, Oct 04, 2017