How to Shape Your Future

Disintegrate,
Like, when you were small,
You placed Lego bricks,
Creating an alien spaceship,
Then with your massive legs,
You started thumping in destruction,
– with shoes on, of course!

Now, remake,
Like, when you were a bit older,
You painted a self-portrait,
Illuminating a masterpiece,
Then with your massive heart,
You engulfed a forlorn sister,
– from a different planet, of course!

At last, resuscitate,
Like, yesterday,
You dreamed of tomorrow,
Discovering a universe,
Then with your innocent eyes,
You opened a new book,
– full of blank pages, of course!

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The Planet We Protect

A help from earth guardians,
And the summoning rituals begin,
Prehistorical water dragons sound the horn,
For forest beasts to begin the invasion.

A sense of loss engulfs me,
And the lack of words leaves me agape,
Inappropriate mental weather storms
Drive me into a chaotic silence.

And as we live through climatic fumes,
I win few elderly pawns,
Alas, the queen mourns as
The guardians crush our king.

Of Moons and Men

What if two moons
Endure a fated collision,
And then plan to invade
The vibrant green planet,
Crashing on its crust
To pull it together or apart,
Bleeding into its valleys
Distancing its wounds from the past,
Their debris treasured
Within the depths of graves,
Men to erect totems
For a sacrificial burial,
A possible resurrection
To rule over other Men,
Lustful villainous desires
Ending in an abyssal black hole,
Woes to the greed of Men
As the moons glow in ascension.

Howls and Roars

I was once a little boy who travelled
To different planets; each to tell their
Own ancient story about my purpose –
Not theirs, and strangely enough, only
Riddling clues evaporated into my ears,
The voice? Well, no specific position,
Only the vivid signs in the atmosphere,
And on the brightest month of the year,
And on the coldest night of the month,
And on the loneliest hour of the night,
Wolves started to appear amidst the
Misty snowfall of a woodland planet,
And I have lived on this planet patient
For it to tell me its story about me,
And even after years spending on it,
I have never heard anything except now:
The endless howls under the several
Moonlights – the volcanic planet did
Reveal the secret of the darting red
Eyes that would stop my heartbeat,
But I had to do something for them,
And their approach was slow and
Fixated centred entirely around me,
I couldn’t climb the trees or dig down
And hide below some earthly matter,
But I might be able to speak some
Sense into them, and so I told them
To go away and leave me alone,
I asked them what of me did they want,
Their reply was simply predatory,
And I knew that any second now
I would be devoured into little pieces
Beyond recognition, and so I shouted,
And I noticed the hesitation on the
Younger wolf, and so I roared at the
Top of my young lungs, and many
Stopped their deathly march, but
Since I was by myself that pause did
Not last forever, and so, I roared again
And again and again, but this time,
The planet roared its life with me.

Dear One Percent

Roll a die and take a chance
At leaving Earth behind for
An adventurous voyage to
A nameless planet. Accept
Your very low intelligence,
And challenge yourself for
A bit of dignity: carry your
Own bags, and put them
In your million-dollar-jet
For we can surely sit one
Of your sibling chimps on
That comfy chair behind
That wooden desk, but
Do not worry about the
Picture frame on the wall
For the both of you are
Really identical; nobody
Will tell the difference.
And remember to return
The die you just rolled,
Because I know you, Mr.
One Percent, you greedy
Bastard. Yours Sincerely,
A peaceful ninety-nine.

Change the System Not the Climate

Now, you just need to write
It down like you did before,
Something you are angry about,
Something about this world, or
Something you are passionate about,
Something that you want to protect –
No matter what,
Something you want to forever erase –
No matter what,
Write about the voiceless justice,
Or about the cries of rotten rats
That swarm the news headlines,
Billionaires owning what we hear,
What we see, and what we read,
The one percent guiding us,
The ninety-nine, into believing
The benefits of their mastery over
Our voluntary enslavement,
A charitable movement from us,
The ninety-nine, towards them,
The one percent, and indeed,
We allowed our men into war,
Maggots feeding on the sizzling
Dish to be served on golden
Plates and royal cutlery that
Become tomorrow’s headlines,
And we believe in their heroism,
We cheer for their deaths,
And we cheer for their return,
Returning wounded and voiceless,
And if any exposes the buried
Atrocities, then we accept
The system that puts them
On the menu for Today’s Special,
And we vote for the one percent,
For their beautifully carved thrones,
A burden that we choose to carry,
In our name they decree airstrikes
On hospitals, schools, and places
Of worship with cover stories to
Allude us into dancing our feet
Off the ground until we believe
Our transformation into celestial
Creatures; angels that protect
The world from corruption,
From demons in their own lands,
The lands of the ninety-nine,
Resources sucked out dry
As their thrones continue to
Expand in our sacred name,
And as we smoke our air
Into smithereens because
The system is meant to be
Treated that way, we await
A dance ritual from the one
Percent to alleviate our
Suffering, and what we,
The ninety-nine, see are them
False banners about the attempt
For climate change in the next
Few decades, a hopeful bait like
A carrot to a donkey’s journey,
And one day the carrot will
Burn and the donkey will
Run in reverse failing to
Notice the enclosing floods,
And indeed, in our sacred
Name the planet will survive,
The one percent in their jets
Will survive, but never us,
The ninety-nine of us
Will continue to roll a die
Into the inevitable homelessness,
An acceptable collateral damage
Discussed in their board meetings,
So, no need to find a solution
Since there is no problem
In this profit-driven system,
Devised by the one percent;
Meanwhile, we applaud their
Beautifully carved thrones as
They dust us out of history.