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MY POEMS
| I love poetry and I write poems. I have posted here some of my poems. Please note that these poems and other materials on this website are not for copying and distribution. It is a violation of copyright law to make or distribute them without my written permission. |
THE TWELVE STARS
No one noticed
The advent in the blue empyrean
But now, piercing the hallowed region of
the retina
In dozen of blazing blinding yellow
The stars in the turbulent blue yonder
Where the nation is surrendered
Without war nor blood
Identity is lost in ideology
To assume the image of a deity
Mandate submitted into a pool
Welcome the ascent of the unelected
But they came
Bearing gifts
Of rights
Economic, human and social
And a tower reaching to eternity?
Coventry, 2005
* The above was published in a local
newspaper in the UK.
No one noticed
The advent in the blue empyrean
But now, piercing the hallowed region of
the retina
In dozen of blazing blinding yellow
The stars in the turbulent blue yonder
Where the nation is surrendered
Without war nor blood
Identity is lost in ideology
To assume the image of a deity
Mandate submitted into a pool
Welcome the ascent of the unelected
But they came
Bearing gifts
Of rights
Economic, human and social
And a tower reaching to eternity?
Coventry, 2005
* The above was published in a local
newspaper in the UK.
| THE MARDYKE STORY These were no fun times to go to the Mardyke Here more than half a thousand stories were written three sessions a day Examinations and collateral stories Like the mischievous and salacious grin on the face of the chap taking LW1153 (CRIMINAL LAW) Smiling sheepishly Perhaps reading his very own story in the question Of parties, orgies, consummation with friends and underage on a single night Stories couched in legal jargons There are stories of courage Like the elderly lady perhaps 70 Sitting a diploma Battling to find the door Squinting to decipher the question It is the spirit And tales of gambling Placed on unsuspecting examinees Predictions on the numbers of apparels Bearing the good tidings of American domination In a bid to make the count Starring at the chest of endowed ladies 'What the fuck is he starring at? Not the mangoes baby Only trying to make the counts! I told my story to whoever cares to listen She told her story Of experimentations with cheese in the lab Designing and improving the life cycle of cheese A gift from Germany to the world It is part of her larger story There are stories that would break untrodden grounds Revealing the Eves behind the evil faces From Sarajevo to Kosovo Back to the days of the masters of the pogrom And there are stories Of post colonialism and writers From India to the lost nations of Nigeria A gift from Ireland to the world There are stories told in other ways Capitalist stories: Billabong, Deep River Rock and of course Coca cola There are stories of pregnant men and female hubbies Of Partial head Deformity There are stories Of Arsenal and Barca; Munster Rugby and Cricket Of vomiting bug and hope of fantastic compensation Over black coffees and scones Of smuggled tips in pockets, on time tables And the advent of the cult of the Da Vinci Code There are stories told in silent gestures All part of a bigger story: The Mardyke story. Cork, May, 2006 |
| The Scavenger His story dates back four centuries In buried memories are mementos of three centuries in servitude In hurried history is another under a foreign yoke Born in penury His poverty, an embarrassment To globalization He grew up in violence Citizen of no where Subject of medical inquisition Victim of liberalization Accused of Aids terrorism Like badgers convicted for involuntary infection Banned from the comity Scavenging the earth The outcasts And he comes to heavens gate Looking for salvation but alas Heaven was close for business. Coventry, 2005 |
CHRISTMAS IN THE PUB
It was the night before
He came earlier than before
The spirits were stronger
The familiar whiff stronger
The dames wilder
And the sounds radical
It was a celebration
A yuletide he knows but cant comprehend
In the aftermath of a binge
He found himself in a manger
With a little boy on a throne of hay
Looking at him
Pityingly
In the split of a second
His story unfolds
In brittles of food, grime, saliva mixed with
liquor
Heavy odour from fag, traces of blood
‘You do not exist’ he hollered
Not in the confinement of your sciences
Nor in the stupor of your revelry
Nor philosophy
Nor in the clown you made me.
Coventry, 2005
It was the night before
He came earlier than before
The spirits were stronger
The familiar whiff stronger
The dames wilder
And the sounds radical
It was a celebration
A yuletide he knows but cant comprehend
In the aftermath of a binge
He found himself in a manger
With a little boy on a throne of hay
Looking at him
Pityingly
In the split of a second
His story unfolds
In brittles of food, grime, saliva mixed with
liquor
Heavy odour from fag, traces of blood
‘You do not exist’ he hollered
Not in the confinement of your sciences
Nor in the stupor of your revelry
Nor philosophy
Nor in the clown you made me.
Coventry, 2005
HERO
Roared in rocket style
Captured the scene
With a mesmerizing agility
He strut the stage like his archetype
From the backstage of nowhere
He stepped into the shoes of Kings
In lyrical Dom
His chords sent reverberating waves
And his words sell on the market place
As he leads millions along like the piper.
The star the hero
A deity under klieg light
Communicating in lyrical mimes
And as he traversed the dangerous world of no limit
He lost himself midway
Searching for a spiritual lifting
He turned to the darker side of existence
Probing the mythical world of illusion
The energy of the rhythm lost its potency
And the love in his rhythm turned to lust
A plaything in the hands of Eternity
In the backstage
Far away from the mirage of the spotlight
His father groan
As his son tore every page of his life into
nothingness
And mock every word of his aged wisdom
Contradicting every principle his life and livelihood
were wrought
In blinding rage he reached for the gun
Insanity blossomed
And the song changed to a dirge
As Eternity took its place
Coventry, 2005
Roared in rocket style
Captured the scene
With a mesmerizing agility
He strut the stage like his archetype
From the backstage of nowhere
He stepped into the shoes of Kings
In lyrical Dom
His chords sent reverberating waves
And his words sell on the market place
As he leads millions along like the piper.
The star the hero
A deity under klieg light
Communicating in lyrical mimes
And as he traversed the dangerous world of no limit
He lost himself midway
Searching for a spiritual lifting
He turned to the darker side of existence
Probing the mythical world of illusion
The energy of the rhythm lost its potency
And the love in his rhythm turned to lust
A plaything in the hands of Eternity
In the backstage
Far away from the mirage of the spotlight
His father groan
As his son tore every page of his life into
nothingness
And mock every word of his aged wisdom
Contradicting every principle his life and livelihood
were wrought
In blinding rage he reached for the gun
Insanity blossomed
And the song changed to a dirge
As Eternity took its place
Coventry, 2005
| FOR FREEDOM Bearing a purple heart for freedom He spoke to me in deafening silence On the first page of the Metro A returnee where others could never come back Doing what he was told by the commander Janna weeps behind her sacrifice As the nation welcomes a new dawn Dreaming to walk the face of this earth again Confined to the life of a cyborg In the early moments of existence He saluted the cause For which his motion was lost And Janna weeps behind her sacrifice. Singing the song of freedom Samir limped to vote On one leg. Coventry, 2005 |
Extrospection
The evanescent bubble of modernization cannot
conceal it
Nor the scepticism of science
It would not matter whether the world believes it or not
It is in every song ever sung
Every word ever written
Every faith ever professed
And every child ever conceived
I see it in the source of River Lee
The rising of the sun in summer
In the whispering of the wind
And I see it
In the effervescence of your eyes
The graceful gait in every step you take
The serenity of your smile
I see it
The Angel in the groovy chick
Cork, 2006
The evanescent bubble of modernization cannot
conceal it
Nor the scepticism of science
It would not matter whether the world believes it or not
It is in every song ever sung
Every word ever written
Every faith ever professed
And every child ever conceived
I see it in the source of River Lee
The rising of the sun in summer
In the whispering of the wind
And I see it
In the effervescence of your eyes
The graceful gait in every step you take
The serenity of your smile
I see it
The Angel in the groovy chick
Cork, 2006
| HEAVENS GATE They come Headless children of the universe Back after another circle They are the evidence The proof of the flowering of passion The passion of self-immolation The other side of the currency Of globalization, of modernisation Of a world that has left all the milestone of morality A world running into nothingness They are the sacrifices To satisfy the cause of a hydra headed eternity A cause in the custody of self appointed acolytes To quench the primordial lust In the battlefield of manhood invincibility They are the collective judgement On the conscience of this age A poll That is not opened to debate A debate that is not subject of argument An argument that is not shrouded in the mystery of faith A faith that is not celebrated in blood |
| REFLECTIONS Can you comprehend the rustling of the river as you pass by? Do you understand the whispers of the wind as you walk by? Vegetation: the trees, grasses, roses and all shouting in silence The birds, the butterflies and all their like All chorusing ‘dia dhuit’ in appreciation and respect Creation grovels As your presence lightens this moment May the New Year bear your grace Replicate your charms And bring as much as you have given to the luckiest soul on earth. |
| NEO SLAVERY Their forbears were taking out in interlocking chains Bangles and iron necklaces, linked man to man Cowering in impotence before the barrel of smoking guns On a transformative journey to an existence in vacuum To serve as the precursors Of the machines of mass production Many centuries on I met them again Transposed by circumstances Protégés of an ignominious past Volunteering for captivity Putting their very life at stake To surrender their existence To a soulless existence Hope fades The homestead is in chaos The decadence side of the glorious globalized era They laboured through the dessert in Lorries on their last journeys Crossing the ocean on condemned fishing boats They glanced at each other wondering who would die and who would not In roulette that some must lose In a bid for the same place that consumed their forbears I saw them on fringes In a vicious circles that produces Children killing children Hooked on drugs and all trivialities of a meaningless existence Living to die In a new serfdom London, April 2007 |
| The gods that came to the Mardyke (This poem is dedicated to all the invigilators at Mardyke Arena, Summer 2008!) They rode the back of expectant students Yearning for success in these summer tests Reaching for supports beyond the temporal From different climes and cultures The gods appeared in the academic hallow of the Mardyke There was the little tortoise from West Africa: the god of trickery A shamrock from this clime: to greenness The catholic saints in amulets A miniature god of Liberty from New York Mickey Mouse representing the hedonistic god of this age A little bhudda from India A cross Nameless totems Appearing in fairly meaningless ensemble. Mardyke, Cork, 2008 |
| Suicide Syndrome To the Mullins They paid the ultimate sacrifice twice over To help pay the deficit They have given what is David’s to George Gave back their passport They walk away from the dignity of a rundown home While their offspring has been taken away to help Scavenging for food miles away from home Slumdogs in the midst of plenty And we ask why protesters are camping in front of St Paul. November 2011 |