Oh, come on, now
I am old, not gung-**,
My limits at my door;
Stop sniveling, dumbo.

Can't look out for you
Tho' I'd commit anew
Every single day
That crosses my way

Can't keep it all turning gray
But, for you, yet I pray.

The wisdom of Love,
Unlike any other,
Renders you gentle
As a dove, smoother
Than a royal mantle,
It holds you high,
No sooner flings afar -
Loved one is nigh
Yet distant, a star:

And earthly reality
Almost convinces
In effect, of the severity
The state evinces ...
Must-make-do futility
With sorbet, coffee
Or tea.

Dry winds of monsoon rainless
Caress my little hair idly
Fire crackers acrid painless
Waft up quite widely

The elements treat me fine
Yes, they are all democratic
Often verging on divine
Tho’ folks call em lunatic

Bother not, friends
Folks are easily dumb
That’s how it ends -
Tom, **** and a thumb

Tho’ nothing might augur well
Keep being until groundswell

Why bemoan love’s loss?
To whose lot it may fall
Treat it akin to candy floss
One deprived may stand tall

When there’s no receipt
No dues are ever owed
Who never knew deceit
To him Gods have bow’d

What if sentiment
Is unrequited?
‘Tisn’t ornament
Cast off, de-spited

Loss of love is never an issue
Shun it, or plunge in anew!

On having thought of the deeds I do
Day in, day out, and all through

Some I wish I hadn’t done
Though doing which was no fun

Slapping my own baby,
Hurting a daughter
For instance
I am no man, maybe
I reel, and I totter.

Often I repent, life’s force spent
Yet on living on, hell bent

Sometimes it’s just a thought I bore
Heart from heart, gut wrenching
Usually only a word that tore
Mouth’s bile, soul drenching

Doubt engulfs me unknowing
Words my own, self rending

Even I know when I am no match
For a conciliatory patch,
Plod on I must, myself to prove
I may yet find my gentle groove.

My thoughts bear me back
I can hear self speak
To mediocrity n’ tack;
Horror, how my words leak!

Hear me dish out
What I was handed
My worst - Infernal spout -
The vermin banded.

If I do live in me mind
What Paradise I expect to find?
Despite the daughter, my sole joy, laughter
What! Must my body travail
From rafter to rafter?

Then again, vermin mill round
I tap away, coroner profound

What I do know about anything
Is that I need to know more
That I don’t know it all
To know which I do pore
Before I am under a pall

To know which anything,
Requires a steadfast liver
The gall of a sea devil;
The whole hog, not just a sliver,
The might of a weevil.

I bid my time and wait for next
Moment, beating heart above,
Think of all that I have vexed,
And prepare anew to love.