…repair one’s own shoes,
not demand
that the planet be covered
with leather.
So said,
a Dalai Lama.
But, why is it,
that for me, my desires
are no less than
sacro-sanct?
Why is it
‘My Way,
Or No Way’?
Have I read
too much of Ayn Rand?
Or is it that
in this age of Mammon,
we are all brats,
never men?
Those, that have the courage
to fight their fiercest rival,
their own Self?
- owais
--
This is first being published on this page.
My Poetry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .(For my prose works please visit owais2prose.blogspot.com; for my videos, please visit www.youtube.com/owaisindiakhan)
Monday, July 28, 2008
POEM_: I and My Desire
I, and my desire
we often talk –
each claiming to be
greater than the other.
The never-ending debate,
always inconclusive,
makes us experiment –
with each-other...
Sometimes,
I give in, to ‘him’.
And he, the
ever-unappeasable brat
inflating his expectations,
always,
never even thanks me
for accommodating him;
he squeezes me,
till I give up, in exasperation.
At other times,
I dam him up –
“Control him!”, I command myself…
…with only one result:
each passing moment,
makes him stronger, and he,
one day, breaches the dam.
Always winning,
he has the classical
dilemma, of a virus:
Kill the host,
and you die with it.
Thus, my weakness
in turn, weakens him –
and I win.
For a while,
I can live a sane,
rational life.
But only, for a while…
So,
where does this leave us?
Does this stale-mate,
have a better ending?
Happily, probably, yes:
We now, have a pact –
We duel no more:
each will try, instead,
independently,
to rise, above
the other…
…
…thus, each of us
downgrades the other
from a foe, to a mere
rival. May the best
‘man’ win.
- owais
--
This is first being published on this page.
we often talk –
each claiming to be
greater than the other.
The never-ending debate,
always inconclusive,
makes us experiment –
with each-other...
Sometimes,
I give in, to ‘him’.
And he, the
ever-unappeasable brat
inflating his expectations,
always,
never even thanks me
for accommodating him;
he squeezes me,
till I give up, in exasperation.
At other times,
I dam him up –
“Control him!”, I command myself…
…with only one result:
each passing moment,
makes him stronger, and he,
one day, breaches the dam.
Always winning,
he has the classical
dilemma, of a virus:
Kill the host,
and you die with it.
Thus, my weakness
in turn, weakens him –
and I win.
For a while,
I can live a sane,
rational life.
But only, for a while…
So,
where does this leave us?
Does this stale-mate,
have a better ending?
Happily, probably, yes:
We now, have a pact –
We duel no more:
each will try, instead,
independently,
to rise, above
the other…
…
…thus, each of us
downgrades the other
from a foe, to a mere
rival. May the best
‘man’ win.
- owais
--
This is first being published on this page.
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