Little-minded Folks

 

In the larger world, greater

 

Men are sempiternally stirred to greater

 

Challenges by the whirlpool of change.

 

But little-minded folks never cease to amaze me.

 

With feeble hearts tossed about by every ill wind,

 

They flutter to mindless frivolities

 

In their immediate milieu

 

And engage in fierce battles

 

Against shadows

 

Cast in the darkling recesses

 

Of their bemused minds.

 

 

 

Within international boundaries

 

Little-minded folks engage in a battle of colour.

 

Within national boundaries

 

They engage in a battle of tribe and religion.

 

Within state boundaries

 

They engage in a battle of community.

 

Within community boundaries

 

They engage in a battle of family.

 

And within family boundaries

 

They kill their own brother for nothing.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a two-versed poem penned by me on the way to my office at 7:15 Am, 25th June 2013. Once again I wondered how much trouble the world has seen in the hands of persons whose minds rarely transcend the mundane.

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bishu's picture

Welcome to Postpoems

Welcome to Postpoems Smile You ar, I hope, as nice as your depicted pic.

 

Wondrous eyes frisky soul

Looking around with awe and surprise

Making new discoveries everyday

Always happy,happy and happy

Never for a moment silent or lazy

except when asleep

No need of booze or pills or high

He's high on curiousity

 

Welcome once again


©bishu 

 

Izu's picture

TO MY FRIEND BISHU

 

“Always happy, happy and happy”

 

 

 

Received with gratitude

 

The warmth your welcome bears.

 

May be not as much as I’d wish

 

When you say “always happy”,

 

And a little booze here or there

 

At times may not be a bad idea.

 

But the ability to cherish and to love,

 

To bear one-another and forgive;

 

I think, must be the ultimate pill.

 

So I’m always high on curiosity:

 

Why this evades humanity?

 

How do we make this discovery?

 

That love and forgiveness

 

Hold our universe in place

 

And steady the aged fingers of God.

 

Why do we pick guns instead of roses?

 

Why do we create bombs instead of bonds?

 

Why do we say stupid instead of sorry?

 

Why do we fight for “God”

 

When we scarcely know Him?

All the same, thanks, my good friend, Bishu.

bishu's picture

Slaughterhouse of ideas

Slaughterhouse of ideas dear Izu.. this site. Don't worry just type and enjoy. Folks will read. Some crazy .. some not-so-crazy. Nonetheless hours of fun sans boundaries. Love,life,living,human traits, et al.  Thanks soooooooooo much for giving this electron so much importance. I am a silly mad-at-ease person....... Smile


©bishu 

 

nightlight1220's picture

I often have wondered about

I often have wondered about the saying 'curiosity killed the cat'. Thank god for brave cats. I loved reading both of these wonderful works. Thank you so very much for sharing so freely.

 

~peace~

.......


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "

 

allets's picture

Guns OR Roses?

Poet, welcome to postpoemsdotorgslashuser. I hope you are a frequent writer on this site. Real poets R a rarity and R as welcome here as happy,happy ~Allets~



Lady A