THE PARADOX

Someone must lose for another to win,
Someone must fall for another to rise,
Someone must stop for another to start,
Someone must die for another to thrive,

I talked to a hearse operator,
He lamented to me,
"My friends, times are hard,
people are not dying,
If it continues like this,
We will be out of business,
People need to die my friend.

Then I met the morgue attendant,
He was with the chief pathologist,
Both basking in the dull sun
on the morgue lawns.
He was gloomy and dull,
Then he began ranting,
"Business is low,
body counts have fallen,
If this trend continues,
I will have to pack up my gloves,
The post mortems are few,
My kids will go hungry,
My wife may leave me soon,
If people refuse to die.

Then I met the doctor,
He had on his face this plastic smile,
He shook my hand with a wicked glint
in his eye,
When I told him I am not seeking
medical attention,
He hit the roof for losing his precious
consultation fee.
I kept my smile,
He opened up,
"My friend, the times are hard,"
he confessed.
"The hospital beds are empty,
The queues are short,
The number of sick people
has drastically dropped.
I am afraid my dear friend that at this rate,
I may have to wind up practice."
My good doctor said.

I left the hearse operator praying,
May the Lord bless the work of his hand.
I left the morgue operator thinking,
Death is such a good thing,
Someone needs to die for the pathologist
to earn his daily bread,
And so is the morgue attendant,
Even the building cleaner.
I left the doctor thinking,
Someone needs to fall sick,
The medic must not wind up practice.
His lovely kids must not lack school fees,
Oh God, may you bless the work of his hands.

As my prayer ended,
I found me standing at the foot of my epitaph,
The creator of the masterpiece smiled,
I could see him singing as he made it,
The casket designer I never met
was dancing too as he made me a masterpiece,
The chorus and dance was marvellous,
The best part was the closing line of these
forgotten service providers,
"A hot meal at last, thank heavens."
The punchline ended the song,
I woke up dancing too, dancing and
meditatively thinking, thinking of the awesome balance
that life is,
Dying to live in the process.
So I am stick in this paradox,
Taking a nap with my one eye open,
Lest I slip into the unfathomable depths of the cousin of death,
Laymen call her sleep.
No deaths and no sickness translates to no business and no profits,
No matter the case,
Man must live.

#Camistare2018
#TheLoudThoughtsOfaSilentPen
#TheReflectionsOfThePoet

A POWER SPEECH (A vagina's soliloquy)

I am a vagina.
I am powerful and weak in one stride.
I am honorable and dishonourable
in one stride.
They despise me,
Yet they got life through me,
They call me ugly,
Yet they constantly run after me,
Lose their heads over me,
Kill each other over me,
They abuse me,
Call me names,
Make fun of me,
Yet they all passed through me,
I gave them life and I don't brag
about it.

They underate me,
Yet I bring them down,
I literally make them bite the dust
and worms,
Yet they still brag about how they have
Conquered me.
I look at them and smile to myself,
Fools, I mutter to myself in amusement.

I am sweet,
I am addictive,
But I am also bitter and vindictive.
I am hot and embracing,
But I am also stone cold and disgusting,
I answer to the name you call me,
I deliver to the exact value you assign me.

I am stronger than your heart,
Tougher than your jaws, bones and teeth,
I get torn and recover,
I bleed yet soldier on,
I heal myself and make no demands,
I get abused and I protest not,
I still walk shoulder high,
I still rebound from the hardest lows,
I still make you find joy,
I pass through demeaning things,
Yet I still leave with all of me intact,
Even my ego, just in case you didn't know.
If you were put through half of what I have to cope with,
You would not last even a micro second.
I am resilient, I am a fighter, I am a beautiful thing,
That is why you can't get enough of me,
That is why you keep coming for more,
I am a vagina,
I am asking you to respect me,
We are not peers for God's sake,
I am a vagina.
Thank you.

#Camistare2018
#TheLoudThoughtsOfaSilentPen
#TheReflectionsOfThePoet

ROASTED

I feel far away from the pearly Gates of heaven,
Hell bell tolls ring louder in my ears
than the sweet angelic heavenly choir,
My feet are closer to hell's boundaries than to heaven,
I am walking close to the fence of hell,
My life itself seems like hell more than it feels like earth,
My soul is thirsty,
Thirsty for a taste of heaven
Thirsty for something different,
For hell has been so hard on me,
If only my drained soul could get a little morsel of paradise,
If only a miracle messenger could cross over
and drip a little of the living waters,
On my dry, burning and cracked tongue.
My feet long for a different direction,
I have been lost in these thick woods,
The canopy blocking the sky,
The only light I see, these hellish flames,
The only warmth I feel,
These hellish heat,
And now I know I should not be here,
How do I trace back my way to paradise?
How do I get back to heaven?
Oh! How I hope I am not too late.

<Camistare 2018>
#TheReflectionsOfThePoet
#TheSilentThoughtsOfaLoudPen