Blot On Humanity
It is darkest hour in our history,
Dark nights shrouded with mystery,
Keeping under heels and making mockery,
Liberty torch shine but under label of slavery,
We may hide cruel face under facial,
Abuses hurl and utterances very racial,
Delicate phase but survival very crucial,
Efforts needed nor normal but very special,
Impossible To Tell
to Robert Hass and in memory of Elliot Gilbert
Slow dulcimer, gavotte and bow, in autumn,
Bashõ and his friends go out to view the moon;
In summer, gasoline rainbow in the gutter,
The secret courtesy that courses like ichor
Through the old form of the rude, full-scale joke,
Impossible to tell in writing. 'Bashõ'
Nightmares Of Slumbering Africa
Colonialism in its last moments is pushed to the centre stage -
the recoiling phenomenon intensely illuminated
by The Flame Of Liberty.
Roused by the prospect of emancipatory freedom,
from the shadows of Servitude, nations rise.
Their demand for a dawn long on hold
brings an end to the colonial yoke.
Her soul refreshed with a breath of new life,
Africa thrills at the sight of the expanding horizons -
The Emperor Of Tribalism
As most Nigerians remain ruefully lukewarm
about President Buhari's second term bid;
an ever-increasing multitude of potential
voters across ethnic divides, seem to be
enthralled by Atiku-Obi presidential ticket,
on the duo's restructuring manifesto and
remarkable track records of achievements.
It's as if the masses with full intent or
otherwise, have at last come to
No To Violence
“Kill all those who are in our area”
“Spare not life even if they make pleas”
Innocents, old children and women
Not to be let off as this is good omen
Such nonsense utterance comes to take place
When ethnic cleansing and hatred replace
Peaceful atmosphere with dirty politics
No dead can be counted even with statistics
~ Eve Niv ~
Keep in
Bosoms’ sleeve
Your Eve Niv.
Eve Niv
Many looks -
Smart Street n’ Hip Hop
Cute n’ Tip Top
Vintage n’ Trendy
Blossoming BrunetteBlondie
Acid Test
Are we not becoming intolerant society?
Gruesome murders, riots stabbing –all in different varieties?
May be it has become part of our life and necessities
Everybody wants to capitalize and understands its futility
On the name of religion, we simply kill each other
Humanity on run and no one takes care or bother
Shame, hatred curse all have taken front seat
No regrets on face – see face to face and sit
Territorial Integrity
Why countries are simply invaded?
Do the other countries are principally wedded?
Does their ethnic love and belonging firmly embedded?
The country’s territory annexed and added
Is it grand design to form a powerful block?
The bell should ring as per their time in clock
Will their aim succeed and keep together the flock
Fire will be raging inside giving room for smoke
Drinking Song
INSCRIPTION FOR AN ANTIQUE PITCHER,
Come, old friend! sit down and listen!
From the pitcher, placed between us,
How the waters laugh and glisten
In the head of old Silenus!
Old Silenus, bloated, drunken,
Led by his inebriate Satyrs;
On his breast his head is sunken,
Biafran Genocide - A Carnival Of Carnage
A reign of impunity by Northern-led Federation
coupled with the anarchy of 'wild, wild west'
of mid 1960s-unrests, had ushered in the military
in a putsch that highlighted ethnic borders in blood.
Deadly reprisal that was the countercoup
triggered a wave of pogrom: a doomsday chaos
that littered the entire 'North' with human debris.
Survivors flee to 'East' with death on their heels.
Doll For A Terrorist
Here is a doll for you, terrorist
Bloodstained
Which was fondled by my daughter
While she was exploded by the bomb
That you planted in her school bus
Killing all her friends
In the fragment of a second
I am her doomed mother
Who happened to see
My own daughter
- Beauty Beyond Form-
-Beauty beyond form-
(To Ritu Didi)
I will decorate thee
with gold and ruby,
Make thee sit to eat
the fruit of fadeless tree.
I will adorn thee
with ornament lucent,
Lulling Symphony
Guarded by towering hills on the East
Flanked by the Arabian Sea on the West
With its easterly shore of stretching sandy swell
That lulls the restless waves to sleep
There is a land, my land of green vegetation
Nestled among palm trees and paddy fields
Oh! I am in love with this narrow strip of land
Of rugged hills and meandering rivers
Of placid backwaters and blue skies
The Symphony
"O Trade! O Trade! would thou wert dead!
The Time needs heart -- 'tis tired of head:
We're all for love," the violins said.
"Of what avail the rigorous tale
Of bill for coin and box for bale?
Grant thee, O Trade! thine uttermost hope:
Level red gold with blue sky-slope,
And base it deep as devils grope:
When all's done, what hast thou won
Of the only sweet that's under the sun?
Living Together
Why does mankind hate people based on religion and race?
Is it ignorance, education, or governments deciding our place.
For people are people regardless of the color of their face.
And the love in our hearts is an example of God's grace.
European people are the most powerful people under the sun.
Asians, Blacks, and Jews are constantly under the economic gun.
But people should not be exploited because of the color of skin.
Review Letter To Valsa George On World Poetry Day
Respected poetess madam
Legend Star (किंवदंती सितारा)Valsa George
[Note: This review letter is World Poetry Day Special Comprehensive Review published on date 21st March 2019 and Gift given on Occasion of Happy Holi Celebration for date 22nd March 2019]
You will be happy to know that I have picked up your poem titled, "Lulling Symphony, ' and comprehensively line by line reviewed it on date 22nd February 2019. This is posted below your poem in many comments. The complete review I am attaching here for your future reference.
Nirvana
Through seas of dreams and seas of phantasies,
Through seas of solitudes and vacancies,
And through my Self, the deepest of the seas,
I strive to thee, Nirvana.
Oh long ago the billow-flow of sense,
Aroused by passion's windy vehemence,
Upbore me out of depths to heights intense,
But not to thee, Nirvana.
Ode On The Lungi
Grandpa Walt, allow me to share my thoughts
with you, if only because every time
I read “Passage to India” and come across
the phrase “passage to more than India”
I fancy, anachronistically, that you wanted
to overshoot the target
by a shadow line
and land in Bangladesh
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot
*630 Bread Of Heaven
A loaf of bread - my good friend said
Is what we chiefly need
A glass of wine a wedge of cheese
Is very good indeed
And now - if you are ready friends
We can begin to feed.
Up spoke Amed - What kind of bread
Naan - Pita or Chappati?
For breads are different - just like cars
A Perfect Ethnic Cleanser
Oh! the perfect ethnic cleanser,
You've no ethics,
Remained as an agent of eternity,
And an excellent janitor of population,
You've no colour, cast or creed
Without any shape or smell you come,
But with a ritual,
That to take me with you
Without respect for my permission.