Egos

Careful man,

There are egos all around

Look out ahead, behind and aside

It’s a slippery ground

Graze not, nor collide!       

Stay as clear

As you can!

Never know

Watch your words

Rein tight your tongue

Flowers may be taken as swords

Someone may get you wrong

And bare their fangs

Their sharp claws show!

Understand

There are ‘royal’ connections

Commoners in ‘aristocratic’ attires

Nobility of assumed adoptions

Distant ancestors, unknown sires

Swollen in illegitimate pride

On you unjustly land!

Watch out little bird

Preying beaks are near

Flying on wings of power

Look for your food with fear

From the sky they glower

A moment’s inattention

And your song won’t be heard!

Xavier Bage

Thurs, June 16, 2016

Bereaved

 

Oh God, Oh Lord

Can such misfortune fall

On someone on the earth

That the poor soul might suffer

The untimely death of all

He held close to his heart?

Can someone live pierced all life

With a dissecting sword?

What consoling gesture

You extend to unbearably bereaved,

To the eyes dried tearless to stone     

To the father torn of his children

Robbed of his beloved, so grieved!?              

Death, you are cruel, it’s known,

But this is cruelty beyond measure!

Is it the cursing sigh

Of some suffering poor?

Is it the karma of past lives

Flooding over unseen

Through  the present’s door?

Is it the plan of the heaven

To crush out the best wine?    

What’s the truth nigh?

(After visiting Shanti Niketan, June 6, 2016)

Xavier Bage

Tues, June 14, 2016

Marathon Children

               All over the city

                I used to see

                Running men

                Running women

                But now I find

                Running children

               Yes, our children

                Rushing on and on!

Only in the morning

They were born to us

In an hour they learnt

To crawl and to wobble

In the second hour, to run

And they’re gone far from us

Our own begotten children

Is it a marathon?

               

                They’re not playing with us             

                Not speaking to us any more

                No more they stand with us

                They have no time to stand

                They’re running a race

                They’re running in schools

                They’re running in colleges

                Is it an open marathon?

                 

                

          They have to be educated

          They have to be trained

          They have to build their career

          They have to earn money plenty

          
        They have to be as wealthy as possible

          They have to make a success

          A success of their life, fast

          Only, to live they’ve forgotten!

                       Our children

                       Our own begotten children

                        Look at us like strangers!

          Xavier Bage

          Sun, June 05, 2016

Praying for a Miracle

O Lord, O dear Lord

What will the future be?

All the orphans and the old

Will they fall hungry?

Will they be without cloth

Without any medicines?

From bins they were picked up

Will they return to bins?

Rejected by the world

Disowned by their own

Will they be shoved cruelly

To walk to death’s town?

Pray, pray my children that

God Merciful may intervene,

May He from our path move,

the problem mount, intents mean!

Xavier Bage

Fri, June 03, 2016

Stings and Bites

Rich or poor

High or low

Pauper or king

Famous or unknown

Is there anyone

Free of sorrow’s sting?

People of the world

Stand in assertion

That poverty bites

While the wealthy

While away their lives

In flying joy kites!            

True though it appears

To the corporal eyes

In the world around

Pains that affluence

Brings to the carriers

In human lives abound!

So, the holy sage wise

Spells in words divine

For all hearts to hear

Lord, give just enough   

To feed me and my kin

And the beggar near!

Xavier Bage

Thurs, June 02, 2016

Dogs, Hate Them

 

Dogs

I hate

Such bullies they are                 

The sight of a meek cat

They can’t tolerate!

I’ve never been near their

Foul smelling bones

Neither have I touched

Any of the toys their masters bring

Brought today tomorrow bygones!

Can’t tidy their room

Neither can they keep their body clean

Strange, how they pride

In being rude, dirty,

Stinky and mean!                                        

They can’t let us be

On the catwalks let us freely walk

They raise helluva noise

As soon as they see us

Wouldn’t let two cats quietly talk!

God must have created them

When he was in bad mood

Their smelly caves are ever open

With tongue sticking out dripping saliva

Ever ready to swallow some food!

We are peace-loving souls

And us to death they bark