Don't our children have better things to do than be nothing more than coins exchanging hands for the continued industrialization of profit from death
Are they not worth more than being living pawns on an out dated board of chest that becomes nothing more than another military grave
Are their bones only meant to end up crushed and broken within the jaws and teeth of the old blind dog of war
Are their dreams worth less than this old perpetuated hate and unnecessary fear
What will become of us if we continue to value a false idea of national pride over the lives of our children and their children and on and on
What will become of us when we betray the hearts we were meant to protect and the minds we were meant to teach
What will we become when we protect oil over blood
When we choose machine over flesh
When we can't see the only future we give them by repeating the same mistake time and time again is an early and unneeded death
What can become of us if we handle our children's lives so cruel
Is it not time to give them something better than the endless circle and cycle that has brought us nothing more than unending grief
Is it not time to give life and love back to those to who it should belong
Is it not time to trust our children with better things to do

Let me be the first to say that I was wrong,
that I'm gonna miss you for so long,
because I know you're not ever coming back,
and yet all I can do is play the same sad track.
I would never beg for you to stay,
so I'll just miss you another day;
the clock keeps moving and I'm running out of time,
sitting here wondering if you were ever mine,
and I'm dying for you to know,
just how much I love you so.
I could measure our romance,
if you just gave me one more chance;
I'd count the pebbles on a courtyard,
or the streetlights on the boulevard,
and you'd know I love you at that amount,
with strength so much more than I can count.
I see you on the reflection of mirrors on the walls,
and on the shadows, galloping down the halls.
Will you stay with me just a little longer?
At least until I can forget,
or until I feel a little stronger,
but not strong enough to regret.

....
And an object behind
the dark,
you say true
I have lost that light
again I feel the sight
and fight for the wright..

my mind is blind
with this soft sweetness of wind
where dry leaves are blown
Again I find myself alone

An echo on the other side of the wall
I hear a mystic call
but on my eye
the light saying goodbye

Five in the morning
feels fresh
and new,
as if
the world has
renewed itself
overnight,
and left
the early morning air
feeling
pure and untouched
against my skin,
within my lungs.

This is air
that the events of the day
have yet to fill;
it is a blank canvas,
whispering its request
to my soul:
for art to be
designed, created,
born, and painted
across its timespan.

hickory nuts
and wind trees
are keeping
at the old buckle bay
light house corners and
shaker church craft
slip anchor on the southern tip

secret legions
and phenolic board
tuck in at gout dock
bands and nations
and miracle speak
fill in the center hall

sand hooks
and water domes
cover wharf road
***** bay toppers
and seven horse chugs
scatter the swollen upper deck

packards and pushers
and rusty back rails
skirt the night
lanterns and sterns
and navy gulls
steady on task

sand cakes
and drift wood
held tight on
the mystery tour
yellow tails
and tide pools
flat line
at royal reach

paddles
and cables
find ripples way
smugglers and smitties
take cover
from a
northern gale

down on
pocket shoal
there’s a graceful hue
~ they’re serving up
belons and xan…
it's time to get in
for a fill

Dear Poet Friends, we are all born rich with plenty of time in our hands taking it for granted till old age arrives; when time begins to run out gradually going beyond our reach! Time is the only thing which we can never accumulate or save during our lifetime.  Yet each passing moment remains priceless like the effervescent dew drops of time! Kindly do read the short Notes below, which makes it easier to appreciate this poem you know! Thanks, -Raj

               TIME THE TRAVELLING GYPSY MAN
TIME you travelling gypsy man won’t you like to stay, and park
your magic caravan here just for a day?
You have been travelling without stopping through vast eons
of time,
Over the Tigress and the Euphrates Rivers, to the Valley of the
Nile;
Nile that longest river of the world, and Egypt’s life line.
Passing over ancient pyramids and the sphinx with raised heads.
To the Valley of the Indus where civilizations of Harappa and
Mohenjo- daro had once spread!
Across the Great Chinese Wall to visit the civilizations of
Mesoamerica; -
Those of the Ancient Mayans, the Aztecs, and the great Incas!
With your long flowing beard as white as snow,
You old gypsy man you surely require a rest you know.
Time you old gypsy man won’t you park here for a day,
Best of food and drinks and a bed of feathers, I have spread
out for your stay!

TIME the gypsy man with a wan smile replied, “Thanks for the
invitation my friend but I must decline, simply because I have
no time!
Since the Big Bang like an arrow I have started to flow,
I cannot stop now and forward I must go!
With your sundials, water clocks, and the hour glass,
You try to enslave me, but I shall always remain in a flux!
With your caesium atomic clock you accurately measure me out,
But weather I am real or illusory, there remains a nagging doubt!
But if ever mankind reaches that magical speed of light,
Only then I would appear to freeze and stop moving forward -
as time!
The only breather I get is inside the ‘Womb of Eternity’,
Where I keep pulsating and breathing before I can break free!
Then I am reborn as future time once again,
Like your Sisyphus I have been cursed never to rest my
friend!” *
                                                              ­                  -by Raj Nandy.
NOTES:
Speed of light is 186,000 miles per second. According to Einstein’s Theory of Relativity this speed can be reached only theoretically, but if reached, time would cease & the hands of the clock will stand still! Now should this speed of light be crossed, time will being to flow backwards.
Arrow of Time = Western concept of time is linear which moves forward like an arrow. The Hindu concept of time is cyclic, where time moves in a repeating cyclic motion. I have explained both these concepts in my ‘Introduction to Indian Art in Verse’, for those who may be interested.
SISYPHUS = In Greek mythology Sisyphus was punished for his greed & deceitfulness by being forced to roll an immense stone up a hill only to watch it roll back again, thereby forced to repeat this action for eternity!
*ALL COPY RIGHTS ARE WITH THE AUTHOR RAJ NANDY

In death, perhaps we are like water
making our way ever deeper from sand and sky.
Maybe we fly, linger and hover awhile
and the dream of becoming a bird is real.
Maybe we are stars, floating oceans of night skies
moving toward divine light in swooping waves
pushing upwards through embryonic waters
spilling over the soul
again and again.