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i’m


    began                                        back

    ­
     i                                                            agai­n


where                                              at


    from ­                                  the

       place
I hope I would not be afraid
should suddenly I meet my maker
he to whom I’ve often prayed.
Our Deity, our creator.

The questions I would want to ask,
why starvation of the poor?
Why hatred scores religious task?
Why some have less and some have more?

Why folk find hatred in their mind?
Why colour sparks such bigotry?
Why some use faith to be unkind?
Why others must fight to be free?

Why governments detest their own?
Why ****** indiscriminately?
Why more is thought of overthrown?
Why no thoughts go to us and we?

Why would there be a third world?
Why are we all not one?
Why love cannot be unfurled?
Why we don’t miss them till their gone?

These questions and so many more
are in my mind to ask.
Just to remember this list
is a monumental task.

But I think I know the explanation.
Free will was past upon the sane,
people should make self examination
and don't we have ourselves to blame?

For if the many of good intention
follow the bad few
and none of us try intervention
then what do we want our God to do?

For when we ask the question
at that final hour.
We may see the suggestion that
I gave you “people-power”
2012
 Aug 2014 Tilok Adnan
Hilda
in tiny capsules
lavender lullaby as
sweet blue diazepam
© Hilda August 19, 2014    Dedicated to my dear husband Timothy and sweet daughter Marian who are struggling with insomnia
 Aug 2014 Tilok Adnan
Hilda
in eastern meadow and wood
mushrooms of lemon and beige
strawberry and creamy white
flood me with rapture
© Hilda August 22, 2014
 Aug 2014 Tilok Adnan
Nandini
Rains
 Aug 2014 Tilok Adnan
Nandini
Standing in the rains
Broken skies , Heavens unleashed
Sadness of the soul washes away
I'm standing in the rain it's very peaceful here
I want a girl that sings like Norah Jones.
A heavenly voice to recite my favorite poems.
I'd ask for a lullaby every night before bed,
So every note may echo within my sleepy head.
Sweet syllables that spark the most beautiful of dreams.
Nothing hurt more
than when you said
I love you.
Forbear, bold youth; all 's heaven here,
  And what you do aver
To others courtship may appear,
  'Tis sacrilege to her.
She is a public deity;
  And were 't not very odd
She should dispose herself to be
  A petty household god?

First make the sun in private shine
  And bid the world adieu,
That so he may his beams confine
  In compliment to you:
But if of that you do despair,
  Think how you did amiss
To strive to fix her beams which are
  More bright and large than his.
 Aug 2014 Tilok Adnan
a m a n d a
how can
        e n e r g y
be wasted
when it feels so
f o c u s e d

— The End —