Resolve

  
Resolve
 
How hard it is to leave our comfort zones
To face the full and harsh realities. 
It's so for each of us, within our lives,
And so for groups that shy from verities.
 
And yet, for each of us, there's no escape.
And so it is for groups and nations too.
It's better to resolve to face the truth—
For each collective, as for me and you.
 
How often can one see, in retrospect,
How daft, misguided, one had been.
So also, groups and nations lose their sense
And stoop to actions lethal and obscene.
 
******
 
The angels and the devils live within
Our “foes”, our “friends”, and also you and me.
The monster and the saint are both in us—
And this is what we often fail to see.
 
We cherish those we love—and that is good,
But often draw a circle that excludes
The others, whom we tend to then perceive
As aliens—or even demon-broods.
 
And so, deluded, dulled by myths we’re taught,
We’re snared and fashioned by the liar’s art.
Accepting then the endless lies we’re fed,
We lapse in sense in both the mind and heart.
  
****** 
  
The “races”, tongues, and cultures mix and so
They make the mixtures that we humans are.
And yet we puff with pride and hiss with hate
Against our fellows—while we wage our wars.
 
The soldiers, who are led to kill, be killed—
They follow orders as they’re trained to do,
But if by chance they met the other side
In peacetime, each might share a meal or two.
  
So much of caring humans give—and take,
And yet they’re led, by blinded fealty,
To senseless mayhem. Fathers, brothers rage,
As mothers, sisters cheer their cruelty.
  
****** 
  
Let’s wake, oh humans, turn from bondage, so
We open up our hearts and minds and eyes.
Let’s seek the truth, however hard that be;
Forsake our comforts, false, in easy lies.
  
So many lies, repeated endlessly,
By those who’re shameless, freed of ethics, laws,
Inclined to evil, ruthless, sparing none,
They feed the children, too, to Mammon’s maws!
  
Discern these monsters, understand their ways—
Relearn the history that’s been buried deep.
Resolve to work to bring some light again
To darkness, smiles to those who wail and weep. 
  
****** 
  
The angels and the devils live within
Our “foes”, our “friends”, and also you and me.
The monster and the saint are both in us
And this is what we often fail to see.
  
How hard it is to leave our comfort zones
To face the full and harsh realities. 
It's so for each of us, within our lives,
And so for groups that shy from verities.
  
And yet, for each of us, there's no escape.
And so it is for groups and nations too.
It's better to resolve to face the truth—
For each collective, as for me and you.
   
2025 October 18, Sat.
Berkeley, California
  

Treachery and Terror

  
Treachery and Terror
 
What use are treaties if they are
Ignored and violated—
Not once or twice—repeatedly,
With greed and lust unsated?
 
When leaders lead in treachery
And the rest of us are blind,
Then those who deal in lechery
Leave all the rest behind. 
 
So public crimes and private ones
Compete in cruel sin,
And horrors terrorize the world—
The one we all are in.
 
****** 
  
If one has more of weaponry
And even more of lies,
And allies who support one’s acts,
Then all resistance dies—
 
Or so one might believe, until
It rises yet again
In phoenix-form, from fire and ash, 
To strike back yet again.
 
But this is not acceptable.
It can’t be tolerated.
This challenges one's dominance—
So genocides are slated.
 
2025 September 30, Tue.
Berkeley, California
 

Darkness—and Light

 
Darkness—and Light

We need to see and so to understand

How pettiness and peeve can overwhelm
Our better instincts, blur and blind our sight,
And bend our reason towards disastrous ends.
So conscience dies and truth is buried deep,
As endless lies and endless wars extend
Disaster zones in which the children wail
As parents weep or turn to remnant faith.

The gods and goddesses of ancient yore
Took part, we’re told, in all our grievous sins
Of lying, cheating, loot and murder—yes,
And even now we bow to Mammon’s will
And execute his lethal schemes and  worse—
As both the godless and the theists claim
Their rights to slaughters that will never end.

In all this darkness, growing deeper, might
There still be light that waits for more at dawn?
There surely is, as mind and heart can see
If only turned and opened towards this light—
That strives at every time and every place
To heal, console, and give us more of strength
That still sustains the soul in all that lives.

Behold the darkness, viewing it in full.
Observe the remnant light and cherish it.
The cynics and the ones defeated spurn
The hope that’s offered and the needed fight,
And in so doing aid the dark’s advance.
So recognize this trait, within yourself
As well as others. Understand the plight

Of those who’re wounded, yet sustain the light.

2025 July 5th, Sat. 
Berkeley, California

Cars and Cannons-Mars and Mammon

 
Cars and Cannons / Mars and Mammon
 
Tweedledum and Tweedledee 
Are running neck to neck.
And Tweedledum says Tweedledee
Is out to ruin and wreck
The nation. Tweedledee, in turn,
Repeats the selfsame charge,
Saying, “Everything will burn
With Tweedledum in charge.”
 
We’re forced to choose between the two
Or find a better third,
Or simply sit and sadly rue
The spectacle absurd—
As Mammon sits on high and laughs,
And Mars conducts his wars,
And Venus smiles beguilingly
To sell us those—and cars.

******
 
The lies go uncontested by;
It’s all about the show.
The Tweedledums, the Tweedledees—
They come, they strut, they go.
We're so distracted by the games,
As Mars and Mammon thrive,
That those surviving what these do

Are sorry they’re alive—

For no one cares, as weapons flow,

Like water does, to wars,

And profits flow, in torrents too,

As Mammon rides on Mars.

So children, women, scream and die

Or silently depart—

As some are buried, some are burned

And others blown apart.

******

 
So those, who’re better off, advise,
“Go pour yourself a drink!
Or go and buy an SUV.
It’s time you paused to think:
The indices will rise and fall,
And millions more will die,
As those who seek and tell the truth
Are humbled by the lie.”
 
The gods of War and Commerce rule
As all of us bow down,
And she who stands is thought a fool
And run right out of town
Or suffers fates much worse than that
As the kings of new do battle,
While bowing still to the ruling gods
And herding us like cattle.

******
 
So cars and cannons still are sold
And we can hear them roaring.
The prices of their shares and stocks
Will yet again be soaring
As Tweedledees and Tweedledums
Distract, yet more, the masses,
And all of us remain as sheep
Or bray with pride like asses.
 
And some are worse, some better, yes.
We choose the lesser evil,
While plants can only yield to both
The locust and the weevil.
One eats the whole; the others snacks
On sap and seeds and leaves.
We humans? One, who reasons, smacks
His head, as one believes. 
 
2024 July 5th, Fri.
Berkeley, California
 

Till We Die

.
Till We Die
.
So “science” is placed upon a throne that gives
It more of title than of power, while 
In vassalage to commerce and its drives,
With human wit and industry subsumed 
By all the cash that builds up capital.
.
This puts us on the roads of noise and rush—
The paths that lead us more and more away
From quiet observation—being one
With all existence—and our reverence
For life and all of Nature's balances.
.
Our sense of right and wrong, a sense innate
That judges what is fair and feels the pain
Of other beings—this is dulled, obscured
By distance from the acts that we defend
Or those about which we are ignorant.  
.
Afraid of depth, afraid of painful sight,
We close our eyes and ears and so our hearts, 
With minds and senses jaded, scoffing at
The ones who bring attention to the wrongs
Or struggle hard to change what isn’t right.
.
This mass retreat to dwell in shallowness—
Is this from age—and  all the buffets borne
Through years of struggle to subsist, survive—
To do what’s right in even little ways—
To find that even these were scorned and blocked?
.
Or is it from the long-accustomed ease
Of “going with the flow”, “not making waves”—
That most of us have followed through our lives –
As evils grew—with our acquiescence—
With basic ethics leashed and pegged in place?
.
I do not know—but see this in myself 
And others of my age and even those
With many years remaining in their lives.
It is as if we all have given up
On even seeing past our small cocoons.
.
So hopes of changes for the better lie, 
Along with youth, within our garbage cans,
And even younger folk are blinded by
A loss of sight as more of us are turned
To serfs that sell our labor for a wage. 
.
And yet, we still have senses left to use—
To know and try to understand the world,
However poorly, yet with diligence, 
With patience, inner sight, humility,
And courage still to question and rebel.
.
And doing this may often cause us pain,
With scorn from others when we speak of things
They do not wish to hear. And yet there is
The truth, perceived, that undercuts the lie, 
That each can softly whisper, till we die.
.
2024 July 3rd, Thu.
Berkeley, California
.

History and Reality

 
History and Reality
 
A watchful trek through history reveals
A landscape that is dual in its forms—
With false facades—resembling those in sets
In Hollywood—and then the fields of truth
That stretch through time and space, but out of view
For all except the ones who persevere
And find their ways, beyond the obstacles,
To glimpse, however partly, this terrain.
 
And so it is with much that we perceive
As real, based on trust in what we’re sold.
It takes some effort—and a stillness deep—
To start to see, in part, realities
Beyond the here and now and all that we
Have gathered through our lives—by each alone—
While blessed or cursed with sight of heart and mind,
And all our senses, sharp in clarity.
 
The “knowledge” that’s beyond is second-hand
At best—and often very far from that.
We cross a border—and the headlines change
For those events that happened yesterday.
How different are then the histories
We're taught from those of near and distant lands?
We can't go back in time—or even be
In more than one place at a given time.
 
2024 June 26th, Wed.
Berkeley, California
 

Xotto-mitther o'dol-bo'dol-সত্য-মিথ্যার অদল-বদল

.
সত্য-মিথ্যার অদল-বদল
.
মিথ্যে কথা, শুনে শুনে,
‘সত্য’ ভাবা হয়।
সত্য, লুকোনো রাখার চোটে,
মিথ্যের সাজা পায়।
.
মিথ্যের ওপর যত নির্ভর,
ঝামেলা তত, সত্যের।
খোলাখুলি দেখা দিলে,
লাথি খেয়ে বিদায়।
.
******
.
অন্যায়, যখন ঢাকা থাকে,
ব্যাথা দেয় না মর্মে।
জঘন্য আহার, সুস্বাদু ভেবে,
গিলে নেওয়া হয় হেসে।
.
সবাই কি অসৎ, মন্দ? তা নয়,
চোখ যে বহুদিন বন্ধ।
মিথ্যের ঘুমের নেশায়, আরাম।
সত্যে, পীড়ন, দায়।
.
******
.
বিধ্বস্ত, লুণ্ঠিত দেশে, যেখানে
অগণ্য মরেছে পীড়ায়,
সেখানেও, যারা স্মৃতি তোলে,
বারে-বারে হয় ব্যর্থ।
.
‘দৃষ্টির বাইরে, মনের বাইরে’।
আমরা সেটাই ভালবাসি।
আমাদের করে-কেনা বোমা-বর্ষায়,
দূরে, লোকে পুড়ে মরে।
.
******
.
তেতো সত্যটাকে ঘেন্না করে,
মিষ্টি মিথ্যে টাকে চুষে খাই।
তাই, দেখো, অনাথ শিশু কাঁদে,
বাকিদের লাশের মাঝে।
.
জীবন এগোয়। উৎসব, তামাশা চলে।
যেনো সব-ই ছেলেখেলা।
ক্রূর কাণ্ড চলতে থাকে।
লজ্জার চিহ্ন নেই।
.
রবিবার, ১৬ জুন, ২০২৪ খ্রি.  
বার্ক্লি, কালিফোর্নিয়া
৭ই জুনের ‘Inversion’ কবিতার অনুবাদ
 .

Inversion

 
Inversion

The lies, repeated long enough,
Become accepted truth.
The truth, when hidden well, is then 
Rejected as a lie.

And when there’s much that rides on lies,
The inconvenient truth,
On being seen in public sight,
Is given then the boot.

****** 

Injustice, hidden out of sight,
Does not disturb the soul,
And heinous fare, as haute cuisine,
Can then be swallowed whole.

It’s not that all are evil—no,
It’s that we shut our eyes,
As truth is often hard for those
Who've long been lulled with lies.

******

So even deep in ravaged lands,
Where millions died in pain,
The few who raise those memories
May battle still in vain.

“Out of sight is out of mind.”
And that is how we like it.
So a hell may rage for months on end,
As taxes paid support it. 

******

We shy away from bitter truths,
Content with sweetened lies.
And so a child is orphaned, while
Another burns and dies.

So life proceeds, with galas, shows,
As if it’s all a game,
And acts obscene are justified
Without a trace of shame

2024 June 10th, Mon. 
Berkeley, California

Truth and Justice

  
Truth and Justice
 
In each of us there is a sense, innate,
Of fairness, just as each of us can sense
Another’s feelings—almost like our own.
And some of us, at least, have always sought
The truth, discarding comfort based on lies.
 
So empathy and truth and justice—each 
Have always been of worth to humankind—
And every script revered appeals to these,
With words like these in treasured texts inscribed.
And yet, injustice reigns—along with lies.
 
****** 
 
And why is this? Some say the cause is greed 
For wealth and power, each supporting each.
And surely these are drives with low regard
For kindness, truth or justice, but there are
Some other causes too, including these—
 
Our ignorance, our fear, our apathy,
And all our history of lords and kings—
The weeding out of those who dared to speak
Or act against the rule of clubs and swords, 
And now the jails of jobs—and rains of bombs.
 
****** 
 
What gain is there in life for those who seek
For truth, for those who see another’s pain,
And those who strive for equity for all?
The gain is more of persecution, pain—
And yet they try, and fail, and try again.
 
Observe the ones who speak against the lie.
Behold the ones resisting, those who die—
Behold their courage and observe their faith.
One might believe in justice after death,
Another not—yet both believe in right.
 
2024, May 14th, Tue.
Berkeley, California
 

Against the Tide

 .
Against the Tide
.
Can truth and justice be forgotten, while
Injustice rules and lies of all degrees
Inform our views—and so our actions too?
Or should we strive (despite our frailties
And all the weight that presses down on those 
That seek the truth—and seek for justice too)
To be with those who swim against the tide? 
.
Though some may call them fools and others worse,
And though they're faced with silence and ignored
(Or else reviled, condemned and made to pay
Through loss of sustenance or freedom, or
Are brought to harm or even lose their lives),
They give us hope—and keep the flame alive
That lights the darkness in the depths of night.
.
2024 May 9th, Thu.
Berkeley, California
.

Horrors-2024-03-19

 
Horrors

So many voices, so many eyes,
So many horrors that can't be unseen.
And yet we are silent, yet we are blind,
For the world we have made is a thing that's obscene.

We turn from the truth, to the comforting lies.
We shrug or accept what the news-readers say.
It's as if we have covered our ears and our eyes,
Or are trained, as are soldiers, to simply obey. 

Genocides happen, and this we should know,
And not just in Europe, and not only for Jews.
But this is the present, 2-0-2-4,
And who will be next, and yet not in the news?

The Frankenstein doctors, creating their monsters,
Were able to hide them from view.
But now we can see them, and yet who will stop them?
Not our leaders, complicit. It is me and it's you. 

2024 March 19th, Tue.
Berkeley, California

Progoti-প্রগতি

 
প্রগতি
 
 প্রগতির গান গাইছো তুমি—
 নতুন যুগের জয়।
 নিষ্ঠুরতার অন্ত কোথায়?
 জীবের চোখে ভয়।
 বোমার ঝড়ে ঝাঁকছে ভূমি,
 কাঁপছে শিশু, হায়!
 
 মা-বাবা যে কোথায় গেলো!
 কোথায়, দিদি-দাদা?
 এই প্রগতির দাপট দেখে,
 ভাসছে চোখে ধাঁধা।
রাত পোহালো, প্রভাত এলো।
ধুঁকছে, রক্ত মেখে।

এই প্রগতির উগ্র প্রচার 

হচ্ছে যতই দেশে,

গানের ধ্বনি উঠছে জেগে 

ততই তীব্র ক্লেশে।

 
 রবিবার, ১০ মার্চ, ২০২৪ খ্রি.
 বার্ক্লি, ক্যালিফর্নিয়া.
 
 

The People of the Lie

 
The People of the Lie

They feel that they can kill and lie—
And lie and kill again,
For anyone who dares resist
This terror is a “terrorist”.

Their aim is to erase, delete
A culture and a people, yes.
They claim that they are, everywhere,
Forever under constant threat.

They think that they can terrorize
And cheat and steal and lie,
For they control the ones who seem
To rule—another lie!

They desecrate and they destroy.
They look on others with contempt.
They burn and blast and bury babies, 

Saying, “We are civilized.”

And who then are these people? Why,
They’re just like you and me, my friend,
For truth and justice call—and yet,
We find our comfort in the lie.

 
2024, February 9th, Fri.
Berkeley, California

Sanity

 
Sanity

Amidst the horrors all around, we see
The things of beauty, hear the sounds of joy,
Observe the workings of compassion, care—
And so find solace still—and sanity.

To only note the horror, being blind
To all that still remains of living grace,
Is clearly partial. So it also is
To turn away from cruel miseries,
As if these things were mere imaginings.

How easy it can be to close the eyes,
The ears, and heart and mind, to misery;
How hard it is to turn to it, to try
To ease that pain—or point to it at least,
So others firstly see and then decry
Yet more of endless pain and suffering,
And act together then to end this curse.

******

There is a time for action and a time
For needed rest, reflection and repose.

One needs to close one’s eyes and savor peace—

Whatever little fortune might dispense—
And so to gather strength to live, to think,
To speak and act in ways that benefit
The beings who are helpless and besieged—
No matter what their kind or heritage.

******

When madness dire has seized the populace,
Then thoughts and words and acts are deemed insane
That try to turn from madness back to sanity.
And those who still persist are vilified
And labeled this and that and even worse,
And so, in time or rapidly, they lose
Their friends, their jobs and often even more.

******

We each are subject to what others think
And how they speak and act as they react
To what we say and do. And this is good,
As this constrains us when we are amiss.

But when we take account of frailties
That might be ours and still in peace conclude
That we should speak and act to try at least
Prevent injustice, death and suffering,
Then that is what we need to do, or else
Forfeit what still remains of sanity.

2024, January 28, Mon.
Berkeley, California

Lies

 
Lies

The sword of truth is sheathed. The darts of lies
Are now replaced by missiles, bombs and drones.
The cannons and the guns of lies remain
And carry on their lethal fusillades.
The arrows left, of truth, cannot prevail.

So day is turned to night and wrong to right.
And most of us, accustomed to this state,
Find truth unbearable, rejecting it
With laughter or with anger mixed with scorn.
So truth lies buried. We are ruled by lies.

****** 

But what indeed is truth, we ask ourselves,
In things beyond our reach to verify?
And why these martial metaphors, in what 
Is surely where dispassion is required?
And yet, can we dispense with sentiment? 

We need the knowledge and the courage, yes,
And all the wit that we can draw upon.
But all of that, without the wisdom born
Of sight—including that of head and heart—
Will lead to choosing sides—of what is one. 

****** 

To choose a side is natural, it seems,
And seeing things in black and white provides 
A means to clear confusion and to act.
And yet the world has many shades of gray
And all the hues that brighten all our lives.

And so, reduction might be useful, while
Denuding all, deluding sight and sense.
We rarely can behold the truth in full,
And yet we always need to strive for this, 
Embracing pain to view the “other side”.
 
2023 October 15, Sun.
Berkeley, California

Dho'n ahoro'n'-ধন আহরণ

   

ধন আহরণ

.

গরিব বলে, ‘বাঁচতে দাও, 

চাপের চোটে মরি।‘ 

ধনী বলে, ‘খেটে খাও, 

নই বা ডাকো হরি।‘ 

.

এই জীবনে খাটনি আছে, 

মানি  সেটা, তবে 

খাটলে পরেই রেহাই পাবো? 

ভাবলেই কি তা হবে?

.

আলস আছে, খাটিয়ে আছে। 

থাকবে সদা তাই।

তাই ব'লে কি এক হয় গরিব,  

অন্য ধনী, ভাই?

.

******

এক দিনে, তো গরীব, ধনীর 

ঘন্টা আছে সমান।

ক’গুন খাটনি সম্ভব, সেটা 

করবে কি ভাই প্রমাণ?

.

ধনীর খাটনি গরিবের থেকে 

কগুন হতে পারে?

দেখেছি তো, শ্রমিক কাহিল, 

গাধা-খাটনির ভারে।

.

তিন গুণ যদি বলো, আমি 

মানবো, তবে হ্যাঁগো, 

বেজস-বাবু কত খাটে, 

অংক কষে দেখো।

.

নিজের খাটনির জোরে, ধনী 

হওয়া কি এত সহজ?

অন্যের খাটনির জোরে হওয়া—

এতেই লাগে মগজ।

.

******

দশ জন যদি কর্মী থাকে,

দশ জন ভাড়াটে,

ধনী হওয়া সম্ভব এতে, 

খেটে—বা না খেটে।

.

শ্রমিক-সংখ্যা হাজার যখন, 

মজুদ, শেয়ারও তেমন, 

বেজসের দিকে চলবে তখন,

হাউইবাজি যেমন।

.

জানি, এত সহজ না, ভাই, 

সব জিনিসেই বিপদ।

ধনের জায়ু মেটায় তবু

অনেক পীড়ার আপদ।

.

দারিদ্র তে মিটবে না ভাই, 

সইতে হবে হেসে।

বেদম খেটে, রইতে হবে

গাড্ডা-কূপে শেষে।

.

******

ধন-আহরণ হরণ বুঝি?

না না, এ কি বলছো?

আমার মত, তুমিও খেটে 

ধন উপার্জন করছো।

.

চালাক আছে, চালু আছে।

কত রকম বুদ্ধি!

কারোর শুধু লোভ-ই আছে, 

অন্যের আছে শুদ্ধি।

.

তবুও প্রতি বিজ্ঞানে, ভাই, 

আইন আছে যেমন, 

অর্থনীতির খাতায় টানা 

লাইন আছে তেমন।

.

খাটনি না ভাই, মগজ না ভাই, 

লাইন ধরে চলা--

এতেই ধনের বৃদ্ধি ঘটে, 

রইল আমার বলা।

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******

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খাটনি, মগজ লাগতে পারে। 

সব জিনিসেই তাই।

শুধু এতেই চলবে না, তাও।

লাইনে চলা চাই।

.

পকেট ভরা পয়সা হলে, 

চান্স টা অনেক ভালো।

পকেট খালি যাদের, তাদের

ভাগ্যটা ভাই কালো।

.

রক্ত দিয়ে, পোক্ত হয়ে, 

উপায় আছে, মানি।

কজন পারে, কজন মরে, 

সেই কথাটাও জানি।

.

বৃহস্পতিবার, ২১ নভেম্বর, ২০১৯ খ্রি 

ব্রুক্লিন, নিউ ইয়র্ক

 .

The Most Malignant Star

The Most Malignant Star

The ways of men and women aren’t free
Of vices that are praised as virtuous things.
We listen, look around and hear and see
The devils fly about on angels’ wings.

And if we dare to say that things are not
The things that they’ve been long proclaimed to be,
We then are targeted and left to rot,
As each is hung from each convenient tree.

******

The labels that we use are weapons too
And so are potent, just as bullets are.
For sticks and stones can injure me and you,
But words alone can start or end a war.

So when a virtue is condemned as vice
Or vice versa, this can ripple far
And then, no matter what the sage advice,
The hordes obey the most malignant star.

************

Ahuras and asuras are the same
And dewas, devils may be twins as well.
So one gets credit and another, blame,
Although they both, within the other, dwell.

The black and white and all the shades of gray
Are captured in the photographic frame.
And yet, some only hark to yes or nay
And label all with one or other name.

******

Who renders certain proof of distant things
Or certifies what happened in the past?
Was that a bird or a bat that flew on wings
And vanished as the light was ebbing fast?

And so it is that humans fashion feints
To make, of what was first, the very last.
So scoundrels sit in palaces, while saints,
For all their labors, are in dungeons cast.

 

2018 August 8th, Wed.
Brooklyn, New York

The World is Flat

The World is Flat

They tried it first in the U.S.A. and honed it to an art—
For selling what they wanted folk to fork up cash to buy.
And then the Nazis used it too—and others, so that men
And women bought the party line—and did not question why.

Some call it “propaganda”, and others, “advertisement”.
Some do it rather plainly and others are more subtle.
It’s useful.  It can take a lie and turn it into truth.
And that’s a transmutation you can bet they’ll never scuttle.

A lie that is repeated—that is whispered in your ear,
That’s written into textbooks and is linked with what you cherish,
That you hear and read and then repeat—is turned to something dear,
And so in time becomes a truth—a staple that you relish.

And so it is for me and him and her and all around.
In every place and every time these methods have been used,
They’ve worked as they were meant to do. So lies have long prevailed,
And those who held to truth or questioned lies have been abused.

So what to do? Remember this—it’s only things you’ve seen
And heard and smelled and tasted, felt—and not through others—that
You should believe without a doubt—for you were there yourself.
All else is sadly suspect. Till you’ve seen, the world is flat.

What’s that? You read me right. Or else, convince me I am wrong.
But first of all, convince yourself. It’s science, not religion.
And science can be questioned—and it shouldn’t just be priests
Or scientists that you believe. It’s fact, not an opinion.

But every doctrine is a lie. And so it is with this.
We cannot catch the whirling flow within the nets we weave.
A life that’s caged is sad indeed. So ignorance is bliss,
Until the knowledge that’s ignored says, “Here! Do you believe?”
 
2017 October 20th, Fri.
Brooklyn, New York
  

Layers

Layers

There are layers of the truth that lie
atop each other—or are intermixed.
And only if we start to dig, will we
discover this, and learn to know the lie
and recognize the half-truth that parades
as all of truth, which is obscured by it.

The truth could be unpleasant and upset
beliefs we’ve held as true for many years.
We might then have to modify our “truths”
to fit with what our digging has unearthed.
As long as others do the same, our own
experiences will also have their place.

We peel the onion and our tears begin.
There’s only so much that our eyes can take.
We wash the onion, cut it, cover up
the pieces, wash our eyes and then
begin to sauté onion, garlic, seeds…
We know our pain and labor lead to feasts.

2017 May 9th, Tue.
Brooklyn, New York
   

Myth

Myth

https://www.facebook.com/arjun.janah/posts/10154582087620950

Who knows the truth?
Not I, forsooth!

I'll vouch for what I've witnessed, yet
In time I'll age and I'll forget.
I only might be sure of this—
That mortal life is far from bliss!

I cannot tell, although I care,
What happened when I wasn't there.
And though I've delved and though I've read,
I cannot question those who're dead!

And when I go, so goes my truth—
Unless it finds, in others, root.
But I could notice, while I die,
My truth, transforming to a lie!

We reach the pith—
And find it's myth.

2017 April 26th, Wed.
Brooklyn, New York