How dumb, how naïve
How evil, visceral
The god that made me in its image.
Shallow, and deep.
Deeper than everything I have seen.
Yet I seek one word that explains it
How shallow of me, and the it that made me.
I can see it, somewhere here,
Sitting, and asking the same question,
From the one that made it.
What good are poets.
Do they burn in hell?
Sir, I think not.
Let’s not complicate this further by saying meaningful things.
From a dead poem
Some were castles in the air,
It’ll be a different view,
From your side.
Everything in this world is natural.
The effect does the cause does the effect.
that the reams
of books and oceans and sirens and screams
is just lost.
In the reams
and the books,
oceans, sirens and screams.
communication, and it’s consequent, organization
Reevaluate the value of consolidation
Everything has to be more complicated before it can be simple.
सागर की एक लहर का
सागर के बिना अर्थ नहीं है |
सुबह की किरणें कब दोपहर की धूप बन गई, पता ही नहीं चला ।