(The poem consists of two fibonaccis [fibs] and a senryu. Writing this poem got me thinking…. To play or not to play by the rules of this world is the only real choice we have in life. true freedom comes with not playing this worldly game of attachment. Easy to say, hard to do. In all other matters, we have the illusion of choice because we are ignorant of the outcomes of our actions.)
People playing possum in their prisons Woken up by the warden smoking rings Smoke signals to the saint seeking visions And a full three pair of those angel wings Just trying to change her world view The cricket sings a song so blue
Thinking twice of all those rose tinted times Old folk leave for their retirement homes While the muses are singing in loud rhymes Their tunes bringing life to the catacombs Asking listeners to pay their due The cricket sings a song so blue
Osiris is being pulled all apart Crying out to the night sky for the sun Then after the sandstorm comes his sweetheart But she’s just here looking to have some fun Up above the sky changes hue The cricket sings a song so blue
Most times now there seems no sense in trying Disillusioned by the Emperor’s clothes Little boys carrying guns and crying The world’s on fire and there ain’t no hose Humanity’s posthumous bad review The cricket sings a song so blue
We once went to this place To shoot a tusker With a Canon DSLR A wild game of chase
We were young fools back then Unafraid of death In the best of health Rushing about, no matter when
The locals warned us Shouting ‘Aaney’: elephant But we were arrogant And Ignored all the fuss
We first saw a mongoose There wherever there are snakes As we walked by lakes A leopard was loose
We saw it for a second Gone before we could focus Disappeared, hocus pocus A magic cat, we reckoned
We then climbed a small hill An hour from the closest village On our quest for that one image But we couldn’t find it still
A king cobra dived into the bushes As we blazed a trail through the trees Our GPS put our minds at ease Four satellites found after some button pushes
We followed a path of destruction Trees uprooted by a mad giant Of the danger we were defiant Scaling over rocky obstruction
Geckos as long as my arm Lay basking in the sun We were having fun Entranced by the forest’s charm
We followed a trail of dung One day old we could tell A sign of our lone rebel A broken branch nearby hung
Scratch marks on the bark Something that animals do We investigated the area, us two But we had to leave before it turned dark
The lapwings finally stopped their warnings As we walked to the forest’s outskirts We had a few bruises and hurts And soreness from all of that walking
Perhaps an angel protected us there For two weeks later the tusker killed Some city kids like us, who went there for thrills Fools like us who had no fear
(Rest in peace)
Image: photo taken by me during this excursion. That elephant corridor line in that other poem I wrote brought back this memory. It is hard to see elephants when they stand still among the trees and the forest is quite thick. There was another incident later on, when I spotted an elephant on a coffee plantation. I ran the hell out of there as fast as my legs could carry me. I had learned my lesson.
Here’s a mother elephant and cub I photographed from the highway. They are much smaller than tuskers and less aggressive. They live in herds, unlike the tusker that eluded us. There’s a third elephant in the picture. Can you spot it?)
Ruins of a great empire Stretch forth beyond the horizon Strewn stones sing hymns like a choir To Pampa, praying for redemption A chance to stand tall once again To be a center of pilgrimage To be filled with women and men Not just a sight of heritage Here where a god and goddess met On the banks of the Tungabhadra I watch the pretty orange sunset In the old empire of Vijayanagara
(Tungabhadra- a river Hampi was once the second largest city in the medieval world. It was pillaged and destroyed during a war. After a mere few hundred years it lay forgotten. )
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, introducing to you a world of steam and magic, gods and men, carpets and Cleopatras, dwarf kings and ogres who are conscientious objectors, murder and mystery, psychedelic psychology, I give you *drumroll please* Imli.
In the first story, (written by yours truly) witness how Mother Sari solves a murder mystery that even the great detective Warlock Holmes couldn’t. If you’re in the mood for some puns and comic shenanigans then head on over and have a good laugh 😃
P.S. We’re looking for more writers to join us in exploring this new realm. If you’re interested, then let me know in the comments or through the contact form and I will invite you.
And so we begin our journey… Impenetrable darkness, where only the blind can truly see. Here in the deepest depths, massive creatures swim past schools of fish, feeding upon the corpses of the old gods, the only sources of light. They ingest their divinity. As they transcend their flesh, they evolve into beings that prey on shadows. Leviathans, losers in their war against the Deep Abyss, move upwards, to new climes and diets. A primordial roar announces their arrival to a world that has long since forgotten their existence.
We travel past the ocean and into a river, swimming against the current. Gone are the slow movements of the creatures in the depths. The scene now moves at a frantic pace. Carp swim against the waterfalls trying to leap over dragon gates, bears wade through the shallows as river sprites dance on the banks, herons mock the lowly land dwellers…
They say that one’s mind, body and soul must be kept in balance. I could never achieve this. Myriad beings live in my mind: maladies hatched in gloom. The doctors don’t know everything, especially when it comes to the human mind. My imagination runs amok despite all their efforts.
A skeleton dances on the river of despair, luring me into the rapids. Deep in the ocean of sleep a leviathan lazily glances upwards, looking to wreck my ship. On the cliff of catastrophe, ravens chase me to the edge.
Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings, an oracle intoxicated by the fumes coming from below. The lyrics of her songs are terrifying. There’s madness in the chorus. Sometimes she sings of the future, but she often sings songs that contain strange mysteries, nonsense rhymes resonating with my subconscious mind.