Hipparchia-1

Our little star, our breathe of air;

Our tears of joy, our joy of care;

Our challenge by day, and challenge by night;

Every-second's-worth source of delight.

Our definition of unconditional love;

And universal source of smile;

Our measure of times lived,

Responsibly worth the while.

Our source of hope, so big and wide;

Even the wildest dreams have nowhere to hide;

Our source of pride without bound;

Our love for life, all year round.

The Betrayed of Sudan

Sudan cried to the stars,
In the dark blue skies of the night;
And flooded tears to the Nile,
In the dry dust of the day...

It rose in unison:
From Atbara to Nyala;
And sent the shockwaves of hope,
From Kadugli to Dongola.

This timeless land of great people,
Hijacked by power-hungry men;
Shall rise again from the dunes
Of hopelessness; it shall, now like then!

These timeless people of a great nation,
In a temporary episode of gloom;
They shall shatter the yoke of greed,
And bring forth the Saharan bloom!

The bloods shed in Burri,
And the lives lost in Umdurman;
These shall only harden,
The kandaka heart in every woman.

The betrayed children of Bahri,
And the miskin people of the Port:
The winds of hope are blowing ashore-
From Damazin to Darfur-
And the ball of people power
Is right in your court!

Perspective

The living and the dead of life,
How different can they rhyme;
Except for a matter of perspective,
And a tiny bit of time?
Only time is of the essence,
In the face of introspection:
For everything stays the same,
In matters of evolution.
The brief twinklings of beauty,
Are the ugly harbingers of eternity;
The fleeting decays of yesterday,
The erstwhile hallmarks of modernity;
The arrogance of muscle power,
And the invincibility of youth,
The complacency of beauty,
And the infallibility of truth:
These are all no happenstance;
But all lost in perspective,
Amidst clouds of ignorance.
The good and bad of life,
The true and the fake;
They are all mirages of perspective,
Of a self-invented make.

I Wish It Were a Dream

My pain of loss
And denial of reality,
My self shattered to the core,
My heart broken for eternity:
Oh! how much I wish this were a dream,
And I would for days and days scream!
Screams of joy and relief,
That my beloved sister were here,
And there' be nothing more for grief!
Oh! how much I wish it were a dream,
That there were nothing for me to mourn,
But here I wake up and all is real,
My heart still heavy, my world still torn.

Tweedledumdee

When Tweedledum and Tweedledee,

Agreed to have a battle,

'Cause Tweedledum thought Tweedledee,

Had spoiled his nice new rattle;

Tweedledum and Tweedledee,

Met in an uneven battling field,

(For Tweedledum set the rules of the game,

In naïve Tweedledee’s name!)

Such that Tweedledee’s every loss,

Would be Tweedledum’s every yield!

But it favors none, nature is fair,

A Tweedledeedumland would not gain;

A trickle of chance to bear,

Oblate Dum rejoicing at prolate Dee in pain.

Mamma mia!

Those laborious months of pains
Through the unusual body gains,
The nocturnal heart's burning,
The nauseas in the morning,
The tablets of bloods high,
And of headaches taken nigh,
And the patience through all this,
With gracious anticipation,
Makes you shine as the only star,
In all the realms of creation.

The beauty of life

Two pedestrian souls
Meet in a circle of love
And branch out in three:
Forever bound by that magical truth,
Of the eternal evolutionary.
That beauteous feeling of eudamonia,
That one-ness of purpose in three:
What wonderful a thing the world!
And the bondage of freedom is free!