We have a say

Dum, dum.

beats the drum.

There plays the flute

On the rainbow route.

We have passed through many ages,

The old, the new and other grinding stages;

Now has the time for peace,

Come unto us with lives that went amiss.

Dum, dum.

beats the drum.

There plays the flute

On the rainbow route.

Arms, arms, arms, and more of arms,

They are all lying still in silent museums;

People come and look at them in wonder,

There was a time these were used from the back, above and under.

Dum, dum.

beats the drum.

There plays the flute

On the rainbow route.

Now we have arms only to stretch,

Profit and wealth, growth and freedom,

Are reaping here to fetch

Health, peace, friendship and wisdom.

Dum, dum.

beats the drum.

There plays the flute

On the rainbow route.

The pied Piper has come back,

To give back the children to their root;

There plays the drum with the flute in the track

Of the rainbow route.

Peace? How did it come!

Everyone knows, and all have a say;

The drums are beating dum, dum,

The flute playing away.

good

I am a good parent, not the best,

Am happy being good when I am with the rest.

Not the best, am a good spouse and a child,

I am not alone, to leave others in the wild.

The language I speak, the food I eat,

Are just as good, worthy for a treat.

My country's not the best, but good enough for me,

I love it all the more, let others live and be.

Good is good enough, a friend is any me,

It's okay to be good, the magic’s here to see.

Good is the World a bit ahead of none,
Endless is the fun for us to win as one.

Borderless day

We want an interdependence day

When borders melt and differences cease,

We live without fear, with ease

We meet, smile, laugh and play.

Days that talk of the past

In the flags that flutter in the sky,

Are gone, not to overcast

Us anymore with anger and wry.

We belong to the world

Patriots of countries we’re out

Of the orders so bold

Cross limits strong and stout

With a simple flag that dances to say,

We want a borderless day.

Wars have gone into the past

Now it’s peace that’s to stay,

We want interdependence to last

With a single flag on the borderless day!

The blue-eyed

I wish my profession so tense

To disappear from the world;

Don’t want any honour, pretence

It’s not worth my blood.

Let the countries fight,

For right or for wrong

I don’t want to miss the flight

My anger’s not so strong.

Why should I kill someone

I don’t even know?

I have my family, my loved ones

My children want to grow.

We’re fighting on and on

Like morons in this world,

Wars for years reborn

And Peace is just a word!

When fighting sordid wars

Soldiers bleed and die

Leaders call us stars

That had fallen from the sky!

We don’t want these honours

To die dull and distinct

Wish like hunters

Our profession go extinct.

When you are

At the desk, when you are reading,

Your right hand goes slowly to your nose

Postures to bring it to your lips so close,

I know you are involved with the book.

Your eyes so clear with the radian look

When you are writing,

I know you are engaged with what you are creating.

When you are angry, silly I know you are hungry,

I get you some of your favourite food

To see you back in your winsome mood;

When you are doing the daily chores

I try to offer my willing hand,

I do wrong things so right, in millions of scores

To get your not-so-patient stand;

When you are asleep

With hands on my comfort rest

I see my garden I’d guard and keep

The heaven's alive, in my little nest.

At the ice-cream shop

You were licking the hard cold bar

A drop of milk slipped from your lips,

It had to strip on the ground,

You smiled and looked around…

When the hard brown layer

Mutely cracked…

You took it in your messy mouth

Chewed it hard with little care…

By the time, the lines of white began

Crawling down your fingers

You were confused…

Whether to tongue them,

Or the melting bar;

You jumped out of your self polite,

To clear it clean, with all your might…

At the ice-cream shop, my eyes met you first

From a little far

Muscles melted in the pretty sight.

A song of love

Where are you my sunflower,

Where are you my tender star,

We walked along so near and far,

To write a song all together…

When things were fine from five to nine,

Didn’t think you’ll not be mine,

Will stay so close yet be so far,

My only love, my tender star…

How are you my sunflower,

Wonder how you’d gone away so far,

Whatever you do, wherever you are,

You’ll always be my tender star…

Am ageing now my sugar’s high,

I cared for you it’s not a lie,

Standing here I’d smile and cry,

Will wait for us until I die…

There were so many things that slipped away

With days and nights that didn’t stay,

Am here to sing and say,

You are the one my sunflower,

You are the one my tender star…

Dead belief

If I have to believe in what I see the best,

I see the Sun moving from what I call east

To a place I call the west.

I see the empty space above me

I call the sky which isn’t quite there, still there for free.

Yet I have to believe in what sees my silly head,

If I didn't see me pop alive,

I wouldn't see me dropping dead.

Let it pass

When the page without sense

Fell off the table,

With a cracking sound

The bit of life rubbed on it, for no offence

Smelt of dust, was able

To lighten it up that’s on the ground.

Lovers met years ago

Roped in as one,

Winds in between urging to go

Their paths in them, so undone

No sound, no one around

They leave to live without a show.

Wars are in and they are out

Rules within their killing shout,

If love’s to be for it to make

They hang on walls, and look so fake

Better they part with their single heart

Without losing their simple art.

The page that fell with a cracking pain,

Will fly anew and sing again.

just us

My arms are open for the madness of love

I hear sounds a lot of sounds.

Times I left some years ago,

The ears over my hands fixed above,

Hurling noises all around,

With hands stretched am tied so low.

My eyes are open to gauge the sadness of love

I see storms a lot of storms.

Tears left with years gone,

Show to me a kind of

Painting, of fleeting forms

That lies and says it’s still not won.

With open eyes, stretched arms and exposed ears

My feet, a bit above the ground,

Days and months take the years,

Love is singing all around,

With posture there so same at will,

I clearly see me waiting still.