Sunday, 10 August 2014


With mind tangled in so many issues
It turned up to thinking maximum drills

I think to cut my head to tear up cord
To remove warring zeal and paramount shrill,

Eyes go outside window to find freshness,
It is the ripe nuts in the tree caught in prison

Of brick culture and brick sketching around,
As if the nut tree convicted to concrete structure

And it has to obey laws of brick diagonals,
Yet it gets food and water, and stands bold to produce

Its fruits amid walls, tearing upon the modernity
That image pierces me to think about ethos

And I may have points to say, yet I have context
To imagine and build organs of growing relationship

All around my enclosures, wherein I may be fruitful to
Assure the world that mind is wise to bring peace.

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