Dreams of Yesterday

Dreams of yesterday

Reality today

Reality transforms to nightmare

And I’m ‘live’ in it…

The book, yes the book

The book they kept from the common people

They banned translations;

For fear of it being misunderstood

They forbade reproductions;

Lest the common folk manhandle it

They even prohibited discussions

When no priest was around

I dreamt of a day,

When all, could cherish it,

Read it,

Appreciate it.

That day dawns

And I desire to break with it…

The chance fell on me

To translate into the common language

With joy in my heart

My quill pen commenced work

Halfway through, around the 36^th,

They found out

And they found me too

They smoked me out

Accused me of being a heretic

Even “Saint Peter’s” stool was hurled at me

(Their own sacred stool)

I was dragged through the street

(Reminiscent of a figure in the book)

I was made synonymous to the devil

(They almost trampled on me like a serpent)

They urged me to recant, to confess

I refused, never giving in

Their anger got fuelled

They took me to the center,

The center of the square

The square in the “Holy Yard”

They tied me up

And bounded me to a pole

Then they put my copy around my neck

They placed a lot of wood, dry wood, around me

(The sun was scorching)

They sprinkled 666 bottles of gasoline on then

(The sun was blazing)

A lighted match was thrown in

(A piece of the sun touched me)

The people began to roar

My torture had begun

I knew I’d thoroughly burn

Burn to death and fall in ashes

(Those ashes will be holier than their conscience)

Yet

I looked up

I smiled

‘Cos this nightmare

Will soon be over!

Birth of my Affliction

With severe pains, I was brought forth
As I joined the world of the living
My mother's pain ceased
Her happiness and joy increased

My pain also began
The pain was resistant to cures
If the resistance could be measured,
It would qualify as a perfect insulator

As the years wore on
My affliction intensified
The aches insistent
Like the hammer of a blacksmith

As days went by
My wounds kept crying for the grave
But my soul sought deliverance
My being, desired a cure

I do not know
If a cure I’ve found
But what I do know is this:
I've found solace
In a cocktail
Of coke, lidocaine and morphine...

Sinking Ship

You appeared as a beautifully designed ship
Constructed with the perfect structural integrity,
Perfectly obeying the buoyancy law, Archimedes' principle

In fact, my love could have been the water body in which you float.
I assumed your engine to be 99% efficient, negligible losses.

My desire was to captain you, to keep you afloat.

But,

You rejected me,

And you evacuated me from the control room

Now you’re sinking...
...I don’t want to be the captain of a sinking ship!