Roving Mind

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Roving Mind Page 2

by Aluta Nite


  Yet man assumes superiority that he doesn’t have.

  Man can’t win despite numerous experimentation.

  When will man start respecting nature

  That has given him all good while he inputs bad!

  THERE’VE TO BE A STOP

  I can’t wait for you to finish me;

  I’ll run to the edge of the world

  If that’s what it takes to be free

  From tormentors of human epoch.

  I’m not worn thread from old clothing

  Or weak rope from constant tethering;

  I’m not salt to dissolve in water

  Or chalk to disintegrate to dust.

  Even if you create a cul de sac

  I’ll break the barrier and escape

  For I’ll not give you a chance

  To break me like dry twigs.

  I’m not worn thread from old clothing

  Or weak rope from constant tethering

  I’m not salt to melt in water

  Or chalk to disintegrate to dust.

  This is not prison where I’m guarded

  Daily like grains from vermin

  I have a life to live so

  Get off my back and let me be.

  I’m not worn thread from old clothing

  Or weak rope from constant tethering

  I’m not salt to melt in water

  Or chalk to disintegrate to dust.

  Oh, let me be

  Oh, let me breathe

  You know it’s my right to live.

  “HE IS OURS”

  The most beautiful and telling intro came

  From a mother of three, one morning.

  Watching her hubby go for her paycheck

  To meet family pressing obligations of the day,

  She told her newest colleague with certainty-

  “He is ours.”

  And no arguments ensued

  For she handed the check freely and happily

  And resumed work fulfilled and relieved.

  The understanding was deep and cordial

  For the oath circulated in her blood as she said-

  “He is ours.”

  He went and did the needful and by evening

  He was back to collect her and their offspring

  As she looked satisfied and loyal

  And he looked accomplished

  While receiving them and her words echoed-

  “He is ours.”

  And there was truth in those words

  For he looked and acted ‘theirs’

  In every inch of him, as he spoke

  Gently while caring for them.

  To the car he led them, opened and closed all doors.

  He is truly theirs.

  TREACHERY

  Wonders will never cease

  For pain in the joints, invited ‘doctors’

  Whose remedies astound to today

  For arthritis isn’t finale, it’s merely disabling.

  Who knows not rodents' bait

  Whose action is full stop?

  A ‘good’ contact recommended it

  Like she was a rat to be silenced forever.

  Defiance saved her for she laughed it off

  And refused to comply to given instructions

  On what to do with ingredients to be purchased

  Masqueraded as a remedy.

  Three times he emailed

  And three times he called

  Full of persuasion as a 'good' ally

  Claiming he was among regiment of users.

  Yet, on a visit to his home for days

  Revealed no signs of him

  Swallowing the dreaded concoction

  For the ploy was for her only.

  GIVE AND TAKE

  Receiving is a blessing

  While donating is a virtue

  One is surprising

  While the other is empathy.

  Give and take is beautiful

  Give and take is wonderful

  Give and take is fulfilling

  Give and take is satisfying

  Giving is humane

  When the going gets tough,

  But what holds you

  Yet your turn could come?

  Give and take is beautiful

  Give and take is wonderful

  Give and take is fulfilling

  Give and take is satisfying

  Receiving is tricky

  For it’s full of shame,

  But what holds you

  When you are in need?

  Give and take is beautiful

  Give and take is wonderful

  Give and take is fulfilling

  Give and take is satisfying

  Shame has no room

  When you are in need

  For those talking

  Could end up there.

  Give and take is beautiful

  Give and take is wonderful

  Give and take is fulfilling

  Give and take is satisfying

  STOP THE CYCLES

  Cycles are for butterflies,

  mosquitoes, guinea worms

  and the like,

  as nature dictates,

  to propel their existence.

  For man,

  a cycle leads to ruin

  for his super brain knows better,

  but does it?

  There’s no excuse

  for perpetuating ugly acts

  even if you suffered

  or gained through them;

  for two wrongs

  make not a right.

  Why should a child

  abused as a kid

  repeat the same?

  Why should a child

  born to thieving hands

  continue the same?

  Why should a child

  born to drug doers

  commit to the same?

  Why should a child

  born to alcohol abusers

  pick up the same?

  Why should a child

  born to smoking parents

  carry on the same?

  Lack of guidance and bad example

  are the causes of

  this legacy

  that debases humanity.

  DESPERATION

  In time of trouble

  Desperation easily creeps in.

  Give it not a chance

  For it can surely drown you.

  Look for a remedy

  To quickly counteract it or

  You are left seriously huffing

  That can be pretty dangerous.

  A close call isn’t what you aspire.

  We know it will come

  But it isn’t time yet,

  Wake up and recharge your mind.

  Desperation isn’t healthy,

  Desperation isn’t all right,

  Desperation can harm you,

  Desperation must be fought.

  THE ROUTE TO DISUNITY

  New life is sweetly awesome

  though birthing could be gruesome.

  Mother and baby become twosome

  and baby is surely handsome.

  Father becomes lonesome

  and relation becomes troublesome.

  Parents become quarrelsome

  and child is made irksome.

  Father becomes fearsome

  and child becomes tiresome.

  Mother becomes bothersome

  and child becomes wearisome.

  By the time the family is foursome

  the edges become worrisome.

  But remember,

  it doesn’t have to be somber.

  Children come first

  and parents create time for selves.

  GREED

  An oil tanker capsized not far from the seashore

  Spilling crude petroleum in the sea

  Hence endangering sea life.

  Fishermen knowing environmental calamities

  Went fishing anyway.

  What greed!


  Lifeless fish floating in oily water

  Was dragged out of the sea anyway

  And sold cheaply to fishmongers.

  What greed!

  Fishmongers celebrated their fortunes

  And sold the fish anyway

  To unsuspecting clients.

  What greed!

  Clients found fish

  Unusually soft including bones,

  But never guessed the reason.

  Answering nature’s call

  Was unusually strange

  For oil gushed out first

  And fecal matter just slipped by

  Like molten lava downwards.

  News came to the fore

  When later media announcement

  Revealed the incident at sea.

  Your guess is as good as mine

  As to how benefactors reacted

  On being, questioned.

  I KNOW I HAVE IT

  I may be nothing in your eyes

  but deep down, I’m somebody.

  Give me a chance to explore

  and find myself.

  Give me a chance to experiment

  and make mistakes.

  Give me a chance to get exposed

  and realize my possibilities.

  Give me a chance to burn my fingers

  and learn to be more careful.

  Give me a chance to do trial and error

  and come up with solutions.

  Give me a chance to fall

  and rise up again.

  Give me a chance to prove my worth

  and change my life.

  Give me a chance to fulfill my dreams

  and give back to society.

  NOTES SCRAWLED ANYWHERE

  In some quarters of society,

  needs be so wanting that luck

  of some means of transmission,

  results in birth of sub cultures.

  Sending alerts via writings

  on social amenity walls,

  public bathroom walls,

  stores and market walls,

  electric and telephone poles

  and elsewhere is the norm.

  That’s where sportsmen learn about

  the next football, hockey matches;

  whole communities read about

  the next village cinemas, meetings;

  and dancers get to know about

  the next dances at social halls,

  plus more.

  All sorts of materials are used

  to convey messages like

  white and colored chalk,

  charcoal and clay,

  vegetable dies

  and more.

  Promotions get loud and clear.

  Effect on people is so strong that

  it’s the first thing some check on

  on wake up time, before all else.

  It’s a way of sending out fliers.

  in order to plan days or weeks.

  It may look like graffiti to a stranger,

  but therein lies the news, information et al.

  DANGERS LEFT IN THE WEBS

  Excitement with Internet climaxes;

  Bearing too much uncouthness

  That endangers and scars lives

  Beyond repair.

  Internet could be the best thing ever,

  Only if its use is thought thro’ sensibly

  For many a times heads are lost

  And the unthinkable is done.

  Why should decency be sacrificed

  At expense of exposure in the webs!

  Why should private details be placed

  In open dumpsters in the wild webs!

  At times, going with the flow can’t be just

  If that’s the guiding factor to actions

  For the flow isn’t always right, yet

  Consequences are not collective.

  Pedophiles target you,

  Not the flow

  Scammers come after you,

  Not the flow

  Stalkers follow you,

  Not the flow.

  You do the invitation

  Without coercion,

  So bear the consequences

  Without a tear,

  For a child asking for fire,

  Suffers the burning, that goes with it.

  PRINCESS KATHLEEN

  Named after a respected kinfolk, she

  Assumed supremacy and honor to go with it;

  Everything revolved around her

  Twenty-four seven, three sixty-five days.

  She cried out loud when

  Her favorite dish was not available.

  HHer roots had to sacrifice all

  To get something else for her to eat.

  Her only chore was going to school

  For she wouldn’t lift a finger

  Even on the food she alone would eat

  Or wash clothes she would wear.

  She was many-a-times moody

  Because she wanted attention

  And if she didn’t get it

  She whined endlessly.

  She was the tail wagging the dog

  For she called the shots

  And her stalks just followed

  Like sheep being led to slaughter.

  Her spell shadowed her siblings who

  She saw as intruders in her domain

  For mingling was limited

  Between her and them.

  Even in adulthood and marriage

  The situation hardly changed

  As none was openly eager to visit

  And bond with her offspring.

  To avoid nasty scenes and misery,

  They left her alone and lived their lives

  Unless she made the first move,

  But still the atmosphere was never relaxed.

  She could change like a chameleon and

  Make one bewildered in the middle of a chat.

  Keeping off was more appropriate

  Up to her, demise.

  FRIEND CUM FOE

  You love my availability

  To carry out your daily chores

  For your survival depends on me.

  In times of peace, I sit subdued

  In any given circumstance and

  Flow gracefully and gorgeously.

  You hurt me many a times

  By misusing me, yet in

  The end, the sufferer is you.

  You never stop to think of tomorrow

  As you engage in wasteful theatrics

  Poisonous and dangerous activities,

  For you live for today,

  Yet the future beckons.

  I can’t do the math for you!

  Your horrible behavior

  And my natural madness

  Do cause harm in abundance,

  Yet you still don’t learn, as you cry

  In the moment and forget soon after

  And continue with your damage.

  It’s a question of time, for my

  Disappearing act is slowly in progress,

  But surely, as more barrenness, catches up.

  Your carelessness always hurts

  As you rob tomorrow of its

  Livelihood till, I’ll be, no more.

  ONE DAY, THEY’LL BE TOGETHER

  Situations caused the run.

  Status created reasons for departure.

  Circumstances dictated the flight.

  Conditions propelled the going away.

  Positions controlled where they lived.

  State of affairs commanded no farewells.

  Friends left behind jut out in the mind

  like thorns on the flesh.

  Absence makes missed loved ones stand out

  like the highest peaks in the ranges.

  Children flourish into men and women

  like seedlings to crops

  While, some pass on

  like, whirl winds to the far-flung.

  Uprooting makes them resemble

  baobab trees


  whose naked canopy and the roots

  have no difference

  for they look cold, lost and confused

  as nearly everything is learned anew

  like innocent babies from the womb.

  THE SPIRITUAL LEADER

  His pulpit exposed what

  His adversaries liked to hide

  And he told it loudly and clearly

  For the world to know the goings-on

  To allow corrections take root.

  The guilty watched with clenched fits,

  And planned to execute their wrath.

  He was warned many a times to be mute,

  But he stood firm for the voiceless

  And refused to bow to whims.

  A Good Samaritan overheard the chilling

  Plans and told him so in public media,

  Not to step his foot next door for a visit,

  But he believed His Maker was with him.

  A poisoned trip to a neighbor’s pulpit did it.

  He journeyed anyway

  And rehearsed fatality took place

  And he was turned to dust untimely.

 

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