28. This poem is for you

You

yes you the one

reading these words

not you

read it silently

I don’t care for the fleshbag

you have outside

it doesn’t matter

I write this

the voice inside the head

of this fleshbag

to all you voices

sitting in your fleshbag

I know you are there somewhere

and so am I.

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27. The first Home

One day, somewhere in Africa

a group of hominins

were trying to make the fire

but the wind was blowing hard

and it was all new for them

and they were trying to find a shelter.

Few hundred years later

they found a cave

went inside

and lit the fire.

Few hundred years later

yellow light bounced off the cave walls

and lit up the place

as they waited for the night

they felt warm inside

sleeping next to the fire

a sense of safety gleaming

in their eyes.

Few hundred years later

one morning

they looked outside

for the first time;

the sunlight creeping inside.

Few hundred years later

they looked around

and found a lake nearby

trees full of fruits

and animals rushing around.

Humans had found their first home.

26. You die, that’s it. You stop existing.

The idea of life after death

is like 

an addict

who keeps smoking

until the roach of the joint

is on fire.

He can see the flames dying

and the ashes falling down

but he clings on in hope

it might keep burning

just to get that last high of it.

Life is like a joint

our bodies the roach

some are rolled good

some bad

each with their highs

and lows.

But the joint ends

at the end of the roach

and our legacies remembered

for as long as our highs last

fading with time.

You can either be an addict

and keep clinging on the only joint you have
or
enjoy the trip

or

maybe

write a poem or something

you know.

25. Freedom

I’m sitting on my terrace
Smoking one more joint
As the sun goes down,
There are things I want to say
And things that I don’t
But I got no friends in this town.

The rent was due yesterday
And there are bills I need to pay
But I got no dime
There are plenty of promises
I’ve made along my way
But there ain’t no time

And I just want to be free
Yes free
From the rules of society
Set me free
Yes free
So I can meet the real me.

Now our star is gone
The distant stars turn on
Cold wind is blowing
Trying to blow my song
Well I guess I have to scream now
And I just want to be free
Yes free
From the rules of society
Set me free
Yes free
Free from the lies of the past
Free from the haunting memories
Set me free

Yes free from everything

24. Kashmir

In the northern mountains
of Kashmir
the white snow scape land
is disrupted
divided by black metal bars
and barb wires
Two young men, newly married
stand guard for their nation
they stare at each other
through the fence they call border
they stay in the howling winds
for days and months
could have been friends
but friends don’t point guns
at each other
The devil spoke over the collar radio
my boys the war has begun
bring out your guns and kill the enemy
and don’t worry If you die
coz you’ll have a special place in heaven

Two dead bodies
on each side of the fence
each a martyr for his country
each wrapped in his nation’s flag
each body goes back home
Two young women
newly married
cry their eyes out for their husband

Two old men, fathers
Hold a piece of metal, called medal
in return for his son
Two mothers
unable to understand
they said “your son died for his motherland”
How can a mother let her son die
what kind of mother is this nation
who needs her sons to die for wars

23. Rain at 7 pm

A drizzling rain falls
as i travel home
from work

some need money
some need women
to please them everyday

all i want
is a little rain
to wash my troubles away

people running
to hide in sheds
wishing they could
stay in their beds
I just want
to let it pour
more and more
till it spreads
and seeps into the soul

some might have lost their job
some their love or will to live
some too busy to care
all running in despair

I say to them
forget about your job
your love or this world
for a moment
and come outside

all you need
is a little rain
to wash your troubles away.