A gossamer of wind
Floating visibly in the air
The lantern flotilla
Chugging in a voice
Of screaming silence
Along the cobblestone road
Long lapsing moments
Closing on the rear window
Opening near to the darkness
In blinding eyes
Beating drums shining
Throbbing sky drowning
The indexing twangs
Of the chugging flotilla
Like a curved bow
Twisting at the turning end
For more opening to
The gossamer of wind
All along the chugging air
Of the lantern flotilla
In visible darkness
And in screaming silence
To diminish humbly in a worm
Of chuckling creatures
Unknowingly not knowing
The hush scare of the bodyblow.

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That is Mao's saying! Oh, that great man who himself struggled for power to get on top of the party hierarchy! But how true it is in essence and meaning.

At least I think so. Power is never so loving, it spreads scares and hatred amongst the people, specially the poor and powerless peoples. And the poor are always powerless and that is why the powerful keep dominated the poor by carefully manipulating their economical, political and cultural supremacy. So, the most powerful ones are literally the most hated ones. And that should be so stand reason.

Yet power is so enticing! Nietzian man relishes power so comfortably. But will this continue in so powerful way to bind the whole human world in captivity of fear psychosis of power? Why should we boast of power? Why should we cherish the dream of gaining in as much power to become powerful to reckon with?

Boasting of power is nothing but a human paranoia, a human obsession of killer instincts that is doomed to wipe out the human species from the surface of this planet. The feasibility of extinction is well nigh possible unless we get our acts together in hating power and putting paid to the chances of the boastfully powerful wisecracks of the would-be powerful obsession and paranoia.

Some people always boast of powerful countries. They do not care to think of the implication of powerful countries. America and its allies are powerful countries. There is no denying of the fact. Yes, they are more powerful than the other countries. They are powerful not only in terms of accumulation of gross wealth but also by virtue of their enormous pile-up of destructive arms and ammunition in their possession. On the one hand, with their economic power they can sell and purchase the poorer countries many times more and on the other, with their military power of superiority they keep those countries at bay by creating a war psychosis among them. This is the political hegemony perpetrated by those so-called powerful countries.

The concept of powerful country is actually derogatory to the ordinary people's conscience and sentiment. Why a country or some countries will be more powerful than the rest of the world? When someone is rich or some country is rich, it can be said for sure that that particular man or that particular country has sucked the blood of the poorer people. Without depriving others nobody could be rich, without taking away the sovereignty of other countries no country could be more powerful than the others.

Only economic power conjoined with muscle power, not moral or ideological power, makes someone or something more powerful. When a country is economically powerful, it paves the way for its being politically powerful. And that political power enhances the power of the barrel of the gun. And the power of the barrel of the gun always aims at those who are economically poor. But first of all we should remember that economical power grows out of depriving. The deprived ones are always less powerful. The powerful countries always rob the other countries of their political and economic sovereignty by imposing their all-powerful political hegemony.

So, if, like social wealth, power is divided and redistributed amongst the people, the political hegemony of power could be less harmful as power itself is. But that seems a far cry and a dystopian dream, even then we could cherish that dream to burn hope and life in our ever increasing space of pangs of existential angst, isn’t it? Will not that equation go a long a way to change the world as a better place to live in?

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You look for your asylum
In the captivity of king’s chosen army
Of castrated eunuchs lying apart
Prostrated at the very close of kissing breaths
Never been so shy of seeing you denuded
In your only refuge in an enmeshed wireframe
They not knowing even in their sly hiding
How to hold the cups of your fondling breasts
For the desire to drink the love of milk
Homeful yet homeless in your queenly harem
You like a bumble bee beseech in your hive.

Had you been a butterfly of the sky
Frolicking from flowers to flowers of the valley
To kiss the elixir of necter in loving saliva
Of your soulmate of freedom and fire
Hopping like a grasshopper in jungles of grass
Qunching the thirst of your blue eyes
You would have been in the widening rainbows
Freeing yourself from the shackles
Of your enmeshed wireframe of captivity
From the palatial army of the king's chosen men
And uphold the cups of your milching breasts
To the God's small children crying for freedom.

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My passion
Staring at you
Your iceblue eyes
Closing at my heart for you
You like a bumble bee
You choose to be reigning
In your only hive
Far from my darkness
Of fiery passion

My heart beats
My heart bleeds off the embers
Extinguishing in ashen sigh
To be buried in memory
At the gravedigger's footfaults
I shy away to beat the heat
Off my passion for you
Yet you know not what to see
In your thousand mind's eye
As if not to free yourself
From the shackles
Of your shadow's self.

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You are dark unto light
You are the revolution of the sky
Light turns to black when you cry
Rivers flow with the morning breeze
To have a furtive look at you
Yet the sun hides into the cloud
We never know when there will be light.

You are the known and the unknown
You are as vast as the deep sky
The sky never ends in your lenthening shadow
Silence is your muffled voice of sermon
Burgeoing sun is never brighter than your cosmic delight
Flowers peep into your wisdom not finding your soul
Wherever you go, you go in solemn disguise
You sail by the day into night
Ever to fit into the eternal design.

Your day begins into the night
Your face burns in darkness like a blessing sigh
Your are the past guiding the life into tomorrow.
We are the believers of mankind
We follow your footsteps in thousand guises
If you propel us into rhythmic cosmic soul
We go behind the veil to hide our blemishes
With you at heart we move along the orbital way
And without you we are lost unto void of the world
Without your blessings we cry at the bottomless pit
We do not know how to know you
Yet we look forward to your day unto night.

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Where is my silence, o my silence?
Darkness surrounding darkness
Gathering storms on my graveyard, o my silence,
Where are you born in me beleaguered world?
Are you born into the silence of night
Never to be born again unto the death of life?
When I am salvaging my self and beings
And a fleeting butterfly kisses the charm of the season
You stand like a block of rock leaning against the falling sky
Yet my sacred silence breaks you asunder
Why are you not my silence of unspoken brotherhood?

Silence, o my silence, where are you?
Why are you born into my besieged territory?
My forlorn hope breathes fire in a tempest of agony
I shall go along the length of my desire
To overcome the lassitude of my anguished pains
My pains will be extinguishing the fear of freedom.

O, my silence, where are you basking in your glory?
My soul aches for thee in solemn whispering
My soul bleeds for more rousing violence
The violence will get you nowhere in my shadows
If your sacred shroud is never revealed in your voice
The voice that searches for discretion of worthwhileness
Why then the truth of beauty cries in vain?
O, my silence, beget the pristine melancholy for me
Beget my shadows in sublime darkness
I will kindle the lights of the thousand suns
And hopes and despair will arise again from Sphinx's ashes
I will beg your Promethean fire once more to extinguish
And my nostalgia will breathe life unto more life to cherish.
O, my silence, my silence,
Why are you wrapping me in mystery of heavenly bliss?
I pray to God all alone, where are you?
Where will you be in my mortal diligence?
Where will you be spreading your wings leaving all my passions?
My passionate soul aches for thee.

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