A Banterous Ode to Tablemat

Lines weaved left right overlapped
Generating a pattern for a tablemat
Its formulation stares at me as I type these words
Onto the screen as my eyes unravel worlds

The tablemat is envious that my fingers stroke the keyboard
Wonders why its only purpose is to keep tables from being scorched
Well mat, I didn’t invent you but I could give you a new function
How would you like to be placed under my computer’s power-button?

Would that give you a sense of ‘use’ and shut your helpless cries?
Would that response be considered as me trying to empathise?
I only ask because tablemat, I do not speak your tongue
And it is not because I have not tried… it’s because you don’t have one…

 

MG

 

 

 

(Wrote an ode to a tablemat because it felt unappreciated
and in order for it to ‘learn’ graditiude
I ‘appreciated’ it through a thankful tribute) 

Impulse Was His Weakness (Collaboration)

It was his only chance
He rushed towards the door
Impulse was his weakness
Thus he tripped onto the floor

Knowing who was knocking
He wanted to make an impression
Little did he realise he was bound
By a wheelchair and a confession

He picked himself up to get the door
To her surprise, this day she found
His confession was constrained
By her sentimental sound

With wails and tears she empathised
As her lover succumbed to the chair
A little girl tugged at her dress
And asked, “Is this man Daddy?” in despair.

 

Varnika and MG

 

 

Enjoyed collaborating this creative piece with an inspiring poet, Varnika
(Click here for more poetry and spoken wordwith audio)

Be Kind, Not Weak

Be kind, be meek.
Be kind,
not weak.

MG

 

 

 

(related — “Kindness is Not Weakness” by MG )

On Words and Wisdom

poetry.jpg

 

MG

Inequality

How does one write
rather how does one type
on a stereotype
in the form of a hype
trendsetters surround
generating sounds
flooding all around
coming from outta town
now I don’t mean immigrants
I’m talkin ‘bout expats n’ tourists
with commercial interest
bearing the label “capitalist”

The few who were impressed
returned to invest
at the materialist’s bequest
a thirst that can’t be quenched

see the downside to this notion
that they term “capitalism”
is the constant hunger for more
for meagre life’s a chore
a need to compensate
with objects on their plates
that constantly seek upgrade
and engage in debate
about the technological change
about foreign stock exchange
about our nuclear weapons’ range
the ones blasted up on stage
the faces of diplomats
glorified doormats
they might have nicer habitats
but still use the same laundromats

Speeches are drafted and read
edited before they’re said
don’t want the people to be misled
rephrase the lies they spread
yet e’ryday People get out of bed
are drawn to the metaphorical Red
log on to hot topics n’ threads
to catch up with the trend
but on the other end
there are beggars who can’t pay rent
their problems aren’t concerning where their right to vote went
but surviving on less than a tenth
of the income most of us get
and let ourselves forget
the roots from which we were bred

 

MG

 

 

(freeverse / spoken word — July 2019)

Morning Sun Midnight Rain

Every morning, I open the curtain
Hoping for some sun to pour in
Some days, I get a shining radiance
That gives a majestic illusion of permanance
Only to have it take a break
Almost exactly the very next day
When the clouds roll in and the rain pours down
Thunder roars, lightning flashes all around
It showers the city with acid and carbon
Melting away concrete that took weeks to harden
I watch as the city slowly fades
Into the sillhouette that was once my escape
A place containing many a memory
That I’ve recorded in ink and written down as history
Awaiting in silence for the sun
To sing its song of frivol and fun
To dry up the gloom of humid rain
To illuminate the paths that few dare to take
To warm the frozen hearts that roam
Around this street without a soul
To shed some light on the lack of humanity
That takes place in this atrocity of a city
Maybe the sun will shine again
Well, it will… but who knows when…

MG

Mothers’ Day Limmerick

This limerick is for mums
Who work through rain and sun
To make sure the family’s fed
To ensure the kids are well-bred
To provide both discipline and fun

Mothers all over the world
Care for their boys and girls
Loving them despite their flaws
Guiding them to do house chores
Watching as the future unfurls

Mothers work ever so hard
Tis truly quite an art
To manage a family
To maintain stability
To give their kids a fresh start

Mothers are rather great
We ought to appreciate
The effort it took them
To be good parents
Such love is shown on Mothers’ Day

 

MG

The Romantic In Me

The romantic in me
Falls in love with beauty
A beauty so real
It remains unseen

Tis the beauty of a moment
Trees — nature’s monument
Grapes — that will ferment
Leaves — colour grey cement

Tis the beauty of people
Whose spark makes you feel
Whose presence makes you special
The beauty of family

Tis the beauty of sunsets
A harmonious duet
A beauty that pulls us away from regret
A beauty we shant forget

The romantic in me
Falls in love with beauty
A beauty so real
It’s experienced, not seen

 

MG