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Nat Lipstadt May 2020
man says, this life, for what, a thousand dry
holes drilled, wildcatting, a win-loss record,
that didn’t approach, come close, to breakeven,
not even an asterisk in the records kept

man says, this body, its rate of desolations
increasing, the goal line distance secretions,
decreasing, this broken runner, tackled from behind
by the past, as his future caught up with him

man says, goals, deadlines, hamstring him,
due dates, an invitation to a criminal activity,
rub, nobody wants to take it down, his record,
left behind, when they shut Rikers Island

man says, always poor at maths, a loser of words,
his parents, his children, all time despairing of him,
called the AAA to come, tow him away, but,
all the junkyards refused him entry

man says, what separates ought and nought,
a little letter, just an n, that screaming thought,
a little letter, insufficient to bridge a poem too far,
man digresses, the past is ever present, in every word

writ and forgot.
Àŧùl May 2017
There are few bottlebrush trees here,
A couple grew in front of our house,
The entrance to our house they guard.

When it is season for them,
They bloom very lavishly,
Even striking is one's stem.

It was pecked upon by a woodpecker,
Thak-Thak-Thak, Thak-Thak-Thak,
The stem's bark finally gave away slowly.

By the end of October '06,
The hollow was readied,
The woodpecker moved in.

It gave shelter to the two birds initially,
The male & the female woodpeckers,
They stayed there for a complete season.

Saw their family grow,
From just the parents,
It even had chicks now.

The chicks grew fast under parental care,
I even listened to their infant chirping,
Saw the parents flying to get forage not so rare.

Then one day a snake slithered,
Until that hollow, it climbed,
The woodpeckers made a lot of noise.

They both screeched repeatedly,
But their cries were useless,
They could not scare away the snake.

The serpent then came out after few hours,
Now the crawling was sluggishly lazy,
Its mouth smeared with gooey young feathers.

The family had been destroyed,
An eerie silence shrouded the hollow,
The woodpecker chicks were dead.

Soon, an eagle had hunted the snake,
Hovering in the sky it spotted it,
Grabbed it when in the sunlight it basked.

Now the woodpeckers were gone,
Probably in search of a new tree,
A new tree where a snake won't come.

As for the tree's hollow,
It made a new home,
For a parrot species this time.

And time knows that change will descend,
Even the parrots will desert the hollow,
They will leave in search of the better greens.

Maybe a family of owls will come in the end,
It will be a long-time home, the hollow,
For owls are known to fill all the vacancies.
We live in a research institute campus since my infancy where I have been always so close to mother nature and I can chronicle the various avian species spotted here.

I guess that's life.

Give and take.

Like the birds in the hollow provide the tree with nutrients through their droppings.

But I wonder when I will be rewarded for my share of the good deeds done in life.

Karma is a *****.

My HP Poem #1526
©Atul Kaushal
Rakha Sep 2015
I believe in redemption;
ten high-strung ******* in the air
raising flag of cold notices
and I realize that redemption was invited
so then leap us with our darlings
to the bunker where ****** lay cold
and new world heap stays
buried beneath our mother's armpits
that we left behind
for she had cold heart and warm skins
and we were still ungrateful, man

Just like our father, she said
with their flag raised of suspicion
and hatred in their eyes, reflected
but hatred itself is not enough and
it came closer by second
so we run to our shelter, stay low
and lay cold with our darlings

— The End —