TALES OF HALF MEN 7 & 8

TALES OF HALF MEN  7 & 8

Chorus lines 7

I stand in anger while coffee repels

and children play as if prisoners in a park,

in a free country,

with regimented alphabets and uniforms

of colors without meaning,

of shirts without arms

and trousers without legs,

aghast I look, I am a heaving torso.

Long ago experience of an age was a huge plateau

along the mind-scape fiddly and with vast fields in lap

soon waterfalls teased as the red began to flow

and appeared pungent and elegant, and jarring.

Nothing happens now,

village is dry, fields don’t laugh, farming gone

machines do the miracle and I can’t run away

as children look sad with drooping heads on books,

and a barren scenario upsets as birds grieve,

and animals look sideways,

for, an evident loneliness pierces and wounds.

Chorus lines 8

I get bored hills are deadly silent

forest burn while winters collapse in hot chill,

and snow in brown chops is roasted

and I wait for the feast in a mindless pillage,

and stare angrily at the grey empty valleys

as the sun visits vast beds,

and windowpanes look hazy and dim

moonlit treads badly injured hills’ cries,

for God does not visit often

while a preface erodes beauty,

as men of sockets without eyes

stand on a precipice

not knowing the fall

for blindness survives when half men laugh.