The Missing Artefacts

In my saner moments i think i must be mad

Mind-boggling philosophies that'd dethrone Nietzche
Shed blood at the altar of paradigms.

No hoax, this sacrifice.

Clinging to roots that clutch
And to the steel bar with a toe on the footboard
While eyes dart frantically
Now the clock, now the milk about to spill over,
Now the name boards on the superfasts.
Wincing at the ‘over’ signal
Of the BPL washing machine,
Jumping out of the skin
At the whistle of the pressure cooker.

Seismic rumblings erupt and flow
Into shapeless scorching lava.
No moulds to trap the molten flow
Into Artefacts.

Words fail.

In my saner moments I think I must be mad.

Written on July 11, 1994

Mother Earth

Feel not honoured
That the planet is allotted our sex.
Be not proud
Of that unchivalrous equation.

Trod upon
Spat upon
Shat upon
Desecrated
With chemicals and sputum
Denuded and polluted
He claims she's the epitome
Of patience
And endurance
And tolerance.

Beware
She has warned.
Let quakes and cancers
Viruses and droughts
Be heeded.

OR

All hell'll break loose.