I Came in Contact with Some Artists

I came in contact with some artists

at least that's what they claimed to be

no art in the eyes or on their bodies

not even around them did I see.

Not being gifted with gifts artistic

I decided not to question the claim

on the cynical and obdurate mindset

of failing to perceive did I lay the blame .

I asked them out of deference 

what felt they about the state of affairs

and what is freedom , what is life

what is the truth and what a prayer ?

They answered not to my satisfaction

but then I am never easily satisfied

so I proceeded on to investigate 

matters less dignified.

I asked them about their avocation

about what it really means to them

about it's value and it's role

how it began and when.

About matters loosely connected 

with the general state of jobs,

about the rumours running around the town

that artists more or less are intellectual snobs.

Do the others not work ?

do they not have a life?

why is it that you say they are not free

and if so then in who's eyes?

They gave me artistic arguments

and served facts of philosophy

argued here argued there

till it no longer made any sense to me

I chided myself for being a dim wit

and thus missing their whole point

so to end the silly questionnaire

did I a stage appoint.

I reasoned , something I do not often

that I shall stop when they would drop

that unnerving condescending stare

I would not ask a question more

and would drop the anchor

then and there.

It happened not , as I could easily see

that with each expression did the emotion inflate

and it swiveled and swerved with a maddening motion

for stopping it, it was too late.

I , to put a hold , decided 

to question them about the man

who's pursuit was not creative

neither to the artists nor the common man.

I asked them what his life was worth

and the value of his mundane work

they said it wasn't art

said that with an artistic smirk.

I dare say I have a feeble mind 

my intellect isn't supreme

but I did retort to this reply

with an intention pure and clean.

Said I, that isn't it strange,

and correct me If I am wrong,

that to allow one artist to work freely

we need a thousand mundane jobs

and a dull workforce a million strong.

We want people would grow the crops,

we want unimaginative paper makers,

we want them who make filaments,

and those who make the pens ,

those who make the ink are needed

those who run the carbines are needed

we need those who give us water

and we need those who give us salt.

We may not need the bankers

nor the merchants in any case

but need we not the things they sell

if we want to live under His Grace?

So what is art , I still don’t know

if it isn't the culmination 

of the mundane jobs that people do

giving life to the artist of the nation. 

On Monday my heart goes livid
By Thursday I can't even feel the pain.
She walks right past the door
and I walk through into the rain .
On weekdays I can forgive her
by weekends I cannot refrain .
I do not want these seven day weeks
there is no reason , I just can't explain.
It's almost cruel when she smiles at me
and she does so when I complain .
It is not a naughty prank
it isn't a tantrum , it's a genuine grudge
but to her it's all the same.
I want to see her if only today
and by tuesday she can leave the game .

It was a wonderful day

and there were no people around

the times were beautiful .

Listening to Fools

Listening to fools is great fun

especially when you are one.

You can sing and dance along with them

and share their foolish delights,

Be privy to nonsense

and a part of fanciful flights.

There is nothing to stop the march of idiocy

even God's hand would fail for once

the older they get the more obstinate they become

and foolhardy becomes their stubborn resolve.

Hear them talking hear them speaking

watch them doing and not doing at at all

live with them and find a way

not to kill yourself with methanol.

I reassured her that she was Beautiful

but this was after she had reassured me that I was Insane.

You Can't , She Won't

My friend I write this especially for you

for I feel you know not what you are about to do

and all this while you have so many expectations

unrealistic , fantastic and far removed from reality

contrived by a gullible and over optimistic mind.

You who pass your time in the lap of indolence

you who thrive on unkempt apparels

you who have no notion of cleanliness

you who has no need for a broom.

May I ask thee what prompted you

to willfully relinquish these luxuries

which heaven did bestow upon thee

for just being a member of the darker sex?

In this age where gender equality

and female emancipation is the outcry

do you thing it will be possible

for you to fish of laziness fry?

Do you think that your fate

shall be as lucky as that of one Patriarch

who merely dropped a hat to see

his clothes washed , house cleaned

meals served , needs fulfilled

and no whim ever weaned.

So, don't forget to hire help

to wash your dirty linen

because You Can't and She Won't.

Hire help to sweep the floors

and dust off the windows and the doors

because You can't and she won't.

And for future reference would you consider

on not planning on having a kitchen

for who will cook?

You Can't and she won't.

I am not averse to change myself

am not that obdurate

but as you see it shall increase your worries

if such a thing consummates.

You talk a lot and we hear you out

this too will change without a doubt

for once you but sniff matrimony

you can't and she won't.

Feel At Home Sire.

Having been roaming around a lot of late
both within and beyond the University Gate
after the lectures , before them too
sometimes during them, is that something new?

Eating has been the main concern
my movements and moods does it premptorily govern

Have walked , have driven and have boarded local transport
been to places which I couldn't afford
also been there where no business I had
and returned home safely, Oh God I am glad.

Near Theatres and Eateries can I be always sighted
academics have I never like this slighted.

To some extent I have lost the grace of silence
and now am a victim of verbal violence.

There is never a day when my feet don't complain
and ask me " Sire, why don't you refrain
from making excursions on a daily basis
get tired , feel drained , make those faces?"

The door of my home is always expecting
me to lock it on my way out
the shoes are so tired and fatigued
that they are questioning what life is all about.

I not that rich, I now the fact
and still I do employ guile and tact

to push through my daily expenses
without risking a baggage of regretful reminiscences.

On the whole though I am quite satisfied with my situation
and do sometimes gaze upon it spurred by elation.

Early to bed early to rise
is a habit all should despise.

Early to bed and late to rise
reveals that life is a surprise

Stretching this tract would harm my case
I rest my argument , Your Grace.