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the anxious earth

This one's once again about the world that was meant to be so wonderful but the growing insensitivity of people has given it its present face.

Newspapers scream (sell!!!)
An infant raped
A family ripped
by hired killers
A boy of eight kills another.
We sit in silence
Mummy Daddy and I
A sheet in each hand
sipping hot hot tea in a cold cold morning
We keep our eyes closed
to the walls for rumblings next door.
Anaesthetised to dead cries
We shall with our wet sponge
wipe blood splashes
off the smoke glass panes
in the lazy afternoons.
Electronic prints rise to meaning
in the misty mornings
and fall into endless maze.
We are afraid to go in crowds
lest there be a stampede.
Our own still drama in flux
Moves in linear expansion
We do not move nor change
but wait for time
to offer us
a set of new truths.
Their faces are so many.
Holding to morality as dogs to crumbs
Distrusting what scares us.
A fate hangs in futurity.
The events not in time
but experiences
ever rising, ever present
to lick thoughts into physical expressions.
We are the one headed fools
our still eyes fixed forward
One of us would disturb the dead we call calm.


Eye! said…
Hey you, saw your comment and thought to have a look at your site. Glad to read your stories and that we have quite a few similar views relating to this funny ball we live on called earth. :)
Like your link to Osho as well.

wordcrafter said…
How true.. how fearful we we let them die rather than disturb the calm.
A thought-provoking piece Jyotsana.
Smita Tewari said…
Wow! Jyotsna, you are improving with each day! I wish I could write like you, about the insensitivity of people.
Smita Tewari said…
What a bold expression!
So we let them dierather than disturb the calm...

Iadmire you sooooooooooo much! Jyotsna.
Smita Ma'am

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