LIVING BEYOND SHADOWS OF PROPAGANDA

O dear one, my strength is linking to dryness,

Only link, it is my mobile phone
That appears only to voice of a child,
And I feel comfort; as he is able to say, ‘Eei’
My walking with life is full of tufts
And shafts of yellow grass, higher
Above the height of nothingness, yet
I do live as if I am no one upon the land.

For the link, I have to turn hard,

No new garments I bought, wearing only old ones,
I am always pressing my mind for savings,
For paying cost for internet and mobile phone service,
Where I have to collect connections, and
Never varies my mind, even if silver dreams do come,
The only care I do intend for making me contacted
With the boy for hearing his voice on mobile phone,

and to see his pictures on internet social sites.  

As the child, beloved one,

Separated, by some persons of home and abroad,
Lives far away from me,

And as the child is yet to learn speaking to return from war zone,

My agony goes beyond submission and subjugation.
When I speak about need of a doctor for child's treatment,
They shout at me, young managers for the child,
As if I am trying to diverge thinking for well being
Of the child, as he appears to be well,
and he is fit to gain their confidence.

As an old man, my endeavor limited to seeing only window,

And I have to go hiding from their propaganda over shadow.

 

 

 

LOVE LOST IN THE VAST WORLD

In the internet flowing of messages, images,

You come in your page and video stream,

With your beauty in valley of thousand likes,

Where from I began singing love songs,

I dig it with your pretty eyes,

And with your loving countenance,

I admire it for long time of wishful messages,

For love and sequences of offering ring,

That I win on my loving whispers,

And your absence, it seems love is done,

Becomes great stealing prisons of love,

With assurances of pains of feeling,

I am in that sense of losing a part of life,

With remembrance of your past presence.

And answers of love are sweetest songs of the earth.

When she bents, I see her back,

Hands covering her breasts, over her shoulders,

She is beautiful, like swimming lady with

Night meditation, a sequence of hair falling,

Upon my eyes, and I can smell loving pleasure,

With her high and low breathing over life

That is the source of loving movements

With fragrance of flower that she uses in perfume,

And her body becomes one source of mingling

In the watery wall of swinging delight,

It is now a message of love and dream of the past.

In search of identity, I am like monsoon cloud,

I look on your face that is like a loving woman,

And it is the sequence of signaling ordeals of light,

With many things of sustaining stories,

And these are the wishful assets of happiness,

Healing touch moving over love and its doctrine,

Flowing away gently, doing nothing on my calling,

I think it is a dream, as if winds of love caught

For a moment, I just get past of snowy living. 

PHONE, CAMERA AND THE INTERNET

Phone in shades of color

With aluminum backing

Or plastic-rubber casing,

With touch screen

Is now essential for talking

Hello in the morning,

Far from countries across boundaries,

And we sit on communicative world,

Vibrant as a galaxy over sound around life,

We are moving talking on talking,

Stirring the wave in the air,

Through aptitude of our innovations.

Amazing things are cameras

With Wi-Fi stream that moves

Cloud to cloud to show pictures

On realm of eyes over our life,

That is enlightened with imaging perception,

Over human existence

With the life and the nature,

With images running before eyes,

Eager to learn for gallants and fancies

Of our creation and participation

With reflections of life,

Inclined mainly on photographic treasures.

And in the very existence

Internet has prudently creates

Connections over interpretations of life,

And continues to find time, and ensuing events

From pictures of our primary activities,

To the world of knowledge and messages,

Like funny things as consumers,

Giving the earth’s grace,

That is filled with happy or angry reflections

And we move about our forms and contents,

With which we move over ages and pursuits.

We are living now in websites and on line consumption.