If it works--whatever the matter-
   leave aside the philosopher
   you are your life's author
   you know better

Such is artificial---kindness
       said--only during Christmas

You put this question to me
' Why do you behave beastly?'
   my reply- caustically-
  ' Because they treat me savagely!'

I know my enemy 100%
but my friend perhaps 50%.

There's no such thing
as a 99% truth--don't you be glad-
you are still a liar, not a noble being
indeed some would still regard you 'bad'.

Making YOUR day
why would I do that?
it shall be MY way
don't you forget!

Did you say
I owed society a duty?
I am all for myself
to serve others would cause me endless misery.

You are in public sight
    an everyday scene
    none knows you better
   than The Almighty who lives within

My heart is a gift
  not my own
  for nothing do I count
  if fertile seeds from my life are not sown

You can't escape
   hide or run
   what you did
   couldn't be undone!

Prayers know no time-table
     do any moment, any place, whenever able

Let not me your example be
  place your heart sincerely with The Almighty

It's not just about me
   being saved or found
  I must be humble and willing
to be the planting ground

As I am
a humble seed
to grow well
patience is what I need

It's not, never ever, about me
there's a Larger Purpose--the Ultimate Mystery

A good deed
   is even by the sky remembered
  long after you are gone
  in the Good Book your name shall be recorded

I am nothing
but Thy Will
I will be silent
humble, faithful, still

I'm old
not cranky-
don't unfairly
judge me.

I'm old
too you'll be
arthritis and lumbago
naturally.

I'm old
walk clumsily
but still
maintain my mental capacity.

I'm old
Mount Everest I can't ascent
can still walk in the hill
easily descend.

I'm old
medications have too many
my medical bills are mounting
but my doctors are happy.

I'm old
still can dance and sing
though I realise
gone are my days of spring.

I'm old
part of me is still green
despite my warts and balding
to continue well-living count me in!

I don't teach
      nor preach
       have no wish
       to have a reach
       beyond what I am
       to be just myself-
       no one nor any thing
       to impeach

      while others agitate
       and itch
       to exhort and educate
       driven by their sense
       of importance
       purportedly
        other lives to enrich

        I know my standing
        I live not to compete
        on pride I don't feed
        humbled in any situation
       by my intellectual limit-

       over such a long time
       I've patiently learnt from what
       life has offered to teach
       and led me forward
       to unravel secrets
       for which
       I show unending gratitude-

        in my simplicity
       and humility
        I've quietly lived
        and truly blessed
       as I've not suffered
      from the sling of any grief

To sleep
to forget
not to
get out of bed

there's nothing
only a vacuum
the numbness of feeling
the delirious dream

in the mind
the phantoms roam
the emaciated eyes
seem blinded by foam

one more, just one more
the hand stretches for the syringe
to oblivion, sweet oblivion
another shot on the tattered skin.

I've wept over and seen too much
of the world's cruelty and misery
it's my humble sacred duty
to exercise my utmost humanity-

wars, conflicts and devastation
the massive hunger and isolation
children who have never known
a single day of peace or consolation-

how I do hate the word 'ideology'
it divides people into every conceivable category
(the 'I',  'You'  and 'They' become a huge chasm )
a justification for acts against humanity-

yet,  we're all an integral part
of one global community:
let love and compassion flourish
to herald in an enlightened century.

We are each our own philosopher

             we should not be on the lookout for any other

I don't wish
to be identified
don't seek my presence
that's denied

and you now ask
why?
I've joined the monastery
to the world I die

troubled neither
joy or sorrow by
no more desire
at all have I

it's midnight
no star in the sky
I'll meditate
peace will draw nigh

You were on the threshold of the Door of Understanding
which was about to open unto you
but It sensed you still had doubt due to your earthiness
and could not allow you to enter into its Inner Sanctum

When I've arrived
at the edge of Nothing
I'd have known
it's a New Beginning

Before you can become

     you'd need to embrace

     and live within the Calm-



    reason has no answer

    the heart tends to wander

    without the Stillness, you'd falter-



    the self and desires must die

    nothingness is the door to bliss

    we are each but a shadow that passes by

Seek
you will not find

ask
there'll be no reply

knock
the door will not open

reason
you'll be imprisoned

love
you'll be disappointed

hope
you'll regret

remember
you'll feel the pain

think
you'll not understand

speak
the language will be incomplete

travel
you'll not learn

join the club
more lonely you'll become

associate
you'll meet people who are absurd

contribute
people will not appreciate

smile
others might not like


idealise
you'll agonise

live
you'll feel the grief

this believe:
nothing has any meaning

Me?
you would find
in the GLOSSARY
OF NOBODY.

The postman had a sneer on his face
   when he delivered us letters at Squatters' Place

Call me poor and I accept gladly
  but don't say 'Fool' --it hurts terribly!

My grand-parents were poor
        so was mum and dad
        we lived in a hut long ago
        but such joyful days we together had!

Bow and tie
not my style!

If a million-dollar lottery I should strike
        90% would be given to charity
        no car would I purchase but a simple bike
        I have no knack at all for money!

My rich friend said to me:
    why don't you join Club Superior
    of which I am the President?
    he well knew I was poor and his inferior

Big coloured sign on a business-office door in the city:
      unless you wear a suit,  keep out--it's our company's policy.

Is it true a dog
would single out
a person badly-dressed
and bark aloud?

I wouldn't beg though I'm poor
    none would see me before the rich man's door

They who lived in mansions
       talked among themselves about me:
       ' that fella lived in a hut
         how come he's so happy?

So used to poverty
it's become a way of life
I've no home nor money
but am free from strife

The stern interviewer said to me:
    do you have a university degree?
    I replied no--positively:
    but my qualification is honesty.

The HM wrote to my wife and me:
     '   we reject your daughter's application
         our careful analysis shows clearly
         you can't afford: we aren't a charity concern'

The past looms larger
than the present
hearing and seeing is harder
clarity of mind is too often absent.

All that has been and seen
through the lenses of mindless time
each a vague and misleading screen
#blunted feelings and numb emotions# is* the outcome.

Childhood friends are now strangers
some have sadly  turned tormentors
yet too many are ceaseless grumblers
indifference does score large numbers.

Old age must be lived in being forgotten
the body-tree is decaying and deprived of vital sap
much of the past upon being recalled is still unforgiven
ongoing days are best likened to an inescapable trap.

I have nothing to prove

no one I need to move

I write
  but am not out
  to prove
  I were right-

  only a voice
in the wilderness
of time and space
vapouring into nothingness

Life is not
    a rose-garden
    on the contrary
    it's constant burden

    we can go anywhere
    to what direction we may turn
    unrealised will be our dreams
    disappointments --how they burn!

   This then is the perennial lesson:
   to bear hazards and hardships we've to learn

You love the world
does it care
or reciprocate?
Haven't you felt this before?

Life is no Utopia
to think so is grievous error
idealism doesn't work
dreams fall over-

you love the world
it doesn't see it as a favour
even your utmost effort
will end in futile endeavour

Love---   at the end

you'd want to return

to the beginning

for more the heart will yearn

I will be caught
  in the end
  and chastised
  if I write
  to be recognised
  for in that guise
  a victim I will fall
  to silly pride

a  simple stringer
of words and thoughts
through the tumble
of life
a scribbler
a dabbler
a story-teller
on the insignificant side

let the real bards sing
I'll listen in deference
in humility abide

for a small voice
am I
that truth
I shouldn't deny

Pain and suffering is better borne by willing and uncomplaining acceptance.

It seems to me that stoicism is akin to Zen as both assert that the self is the root-cause of unhappiness