What I need
This isn’t a poem.
Sorry. It lacks a poet and it lacks rhyme.
What it has are words of a mortal fool.
A fool who has it figured out.
Yes, I know what I want.
What I want is another God.
They taught me a praise,
They made me sing,
He’s got the whole world in his hands.
Great thing to do, thank you very much.
Hold the globe in your hands,
And run around the sun.
I need a God with honor.
I don’t want the bad guys to always win.
Why let them win?
I couldn’t watch the devil hurting my dear ones.
I have dignity.
A bearded man told me
He lets the bad guys win because He is great.
Was he a Mullah? A Swami? A Rabbi?
Or a priest who doesn’t shave?
The bad guy wins because God is great?
I don’t need greatness.
I need justice.
Heaven is Ostentatious.
Kashmir is burning.
I want a poet, not a mute.
Praise my beauty, chide my wronging,
Warn me before I make my mistakes.
You are a God,
Don’t sit there and watch Discovery channel.
And in the end, these books decree,
He’ll say, “I told you so”.
I want someone with an opinion.
Someone who will let us know.
When I fell a tree too much,
Warn.
When I quarry the mountains
Protest.
When I pollute,
Punish.
I need a God with fairness.
I don’t need Africa and America.
I need Utopia.
I don’t want black, white, brown, red and yellow.
I want colors not skin tones.
I don’t need tornadoes and hurricanes,
Tearing down homes,
while a hundred miles away,
the landscape scorches in famine.
Give us sunshine, give us rain.
I don’t want pygmy, and paratroopers,
I don’t want bow legged bushmen and Versace,
Give me a farmer, give me football.
Give me a patch of grass,
Give me the shade of a tree and a stream.
Let us drink nectar, chill.
Set forth your angels,
Bring wrath upon the war mongers,
Bring down the symbols of man.
No children born with ailments,
Don’t test, believe.
Why tempt and torment a few,
When you can give the others?
Don’t expect faith, prove.
If you have created faint hearted
Volcanoes should spare the good people.
Tear down the skyscrapers that challenge nature
No babel, No tongues.
Tongues of flames.
The city is Hell,
Infested with rabid rodents and roaches,
Tear it down.
Don’t let them destroy the Amazon,
to build Disneyland.
posted by Sujay Sukumar at 9:26 PM
24 Comments:
Brilliant writing Sujay. Operatic and serious, an astonishing evocation of the maturity(?) of the vast and complicated land of ours and its people - splendid incarnation of the universal human tragedy.
hey sujay
a cry of an Utopian
can i call it...
yeah
it is
a cry of an Utopian!!!
A thin line separates reality form dreams... to cross over requires strength, will and uncompromised determination..it's a journey...that begins, perhaps with a poem...or in this case..with something that isn't a poem...!
god is in each one of us
and so is the devil
heaven is here
and so is hell..
what we sow.. so shall we reap..
sometimes like the growth of the fern.. the results of our action are immediate. at times like the bamboo.. it takes years to grow..
but, without sorrow no one can know the sweetness of joy
Lovely post Sujay.
But God is dead.
Man is a symbol of the laws of creation; in him there is evolution, involution, struggle, progress and retrogression,
struggle between positive and negative, active and passive, yes and no, good and evil.
But you are right. We need to change ourselves and then bring about a external change.
God is dead.
Amen!
Whether you call it one or not, this is definitley a poem, and divinely inspired indeed! :)
I want colors not skin tones.
-- my fave line in this much thought-provoking piece, speaking volumes in its straightforwardness. ^_^ Thank you. I do admire your conviction.
aria -> Personification of God was the great human tragedy.The Human notion of God is so narrow, humans couldnt help but assume that God has humanlike qualities, in other words, we inadvertently created a God, the way that suited us best.
sophia -> Yes, i am an Utopian. and yes I am crying out.
Nice observation.
castor -> Ur thoughts are so much similar to my own.
Its all Maya, thats what it is. Exactly.
t-> reality hit me hard across my cheek when i was of a tender age. Although I made the transition, I have willfully left behind a part of me (Sujay the romantic and Sujay the artist) back in the dream world. Even then, these parts of me often come in contact with reality and then....
echos -> "what we sow.. so shall we reap". We should have a talk sometime, and perhaps then, you can show me what I failed to see.
Thank you for the new perspective.
White Magpie -> Well said!!!
God is dead! Absolutely!!!
So let us either re-invent Him to suit our world today, or let us do away with Him.
Your thinking matches with what I was feeling when i wrote the poem.
Eating poetry -> Divinely Inspired? Naah!!! Just plain frustration.
Thank you for visiting.
soulless -> hey thanks!! welcome to my blog!! Visit again.
God is in each of us, and so is the Devil. No one is wholly good or completelly bad. Our values, our sense of right and wrong alone helps us make ourselves good or bad.
By we I mean not just me or you but we as a whole, as a society, as a community, as a city, as a nation. For eg. natural disasters like earthquakes will happen with increasing intensity and cause greater devastation because we as a community or nation or as the world fail to respect the limited natural resources we have been given. We mine deeper, we soil our seas, we dump poison anywhere and everywhere, we fillup waterbodies and build. Who cares what lies beneath the foundation?
Again, crook builders use bad quality materials, ignore ecological concerns, cut corners and finally who has to pay????? We were given an unpolluted and unspoilt planet. What have we done to it? Are we not today reaping what we sowed?
However, very often bad things happen to good people for no fault of theirs. These are trials, they test us and either make us stronger or simply kill us.
To sum up my long comment id like to quote a poem by ~ Henry Van Dyke ~
If all the skies were sunshine, Our faces would be fain To feel once more upon them The cooling plash of rain.
If all the world were music, Our hearts would often long For one sweet strain of silence, To break the endless song.
If life were always merry, Our souls would seek relief, And rest from weary laughter In the quiet arms of grief.
That is great imagination and visualisation.
jac -> thanks dude
cherie -> thank you. I dont know if its a 'verse', but 'verse' is good, if not 'worse' :)
Busy?
Brilliantly written with a great impact. You must have been in some flow huh?! ;) howz ya been man?! sorry i cudnt visit earlier.. i do visit when i can find the time :)
Hey..
you sound like an utopian..crying to make the world fine:)
Very nice site! » » »
Where did you find it? Interesting read http://www.gps-car-navigation-2.info Teeth whitening identity kit http://www.hairy-pussy-9.info Hong kong travel shots Propecia and store
Post a Comment
<< Home