Aesop’s Fables: The Fisherman Piping

A fisherman skilled in heavenly tunes
Played his flute in the afternoons
When all the kids came back from school
To see them dance just like a fool
One day he took his flute to the shore
To see if the fishes will adore
The way he played his heavenly tunes
Just like the kids in the afternoons
So he sat on a rock and began to play
Hoping the fishes would swing and sway
Out of the sea straight into his net
So that he wouldn’t have to break a sweat
Now all day he piped his flute in vain
But not a fish he got for his pain
So at last he cast into the sea
His robust net lying idle and free
And caught an excellent haul of fish
More than what any man could wish
“O’ you corrupt creatures,” he said
“When I played my flute you almost acted dead
Now that I cast my net in the sea
You find your spark and dance merrily”

Aesop’s Fables: The Ants And The Grasshopper

The busy ants were spending
A cold, cold winter day
Drying, searing, tending
Grains gathered in summer’s gay
A grasshopper there came passing
Choking with famine
“Don’t mean to be harassing
Can I have something to dine?”
The ants they all inquired
“In summer, where were you?”
“I sang as I desired”
Cried the ‘hopper feeling blue
The ants spoke in derision
“You sang the summer away
You did not stock provision
Now dance off your dismay”

Gift Me Wings

If you must gift me something

Gift me wings

To help me fly away

From all the material things

A Boy I Knew

There was once a boy I knew

And I knew him all too well

There was no better friend than him

Between the gates of heaven and hell

We always cared for one another

If you could see us, you could tell

For we knew each other a lot

And we knew each other well

Our childhoods flew away together

Amongst the green fields and the rain

Without a doubt, we thought out loud

We would never feel the pain

Of a precious friendship lost

Under any stress or strain

For our childhoods were spent together

Amongst the green fields and the rain

As we grew, like they always knew

Life knocked at our doors

It never came to devastate

But exposed our bond to pores

It was the same boat we ferried

But now without our oars

For we grew up way too fast

When life knocked at our doors

Now the swinging slinging days

Are behind us and are gone

All that’s left is the hustle bustle

From dawn to dusk to dawn

Pulled away from happiness

Towards money we’re now drawn

Soon enough the memories will

Be behind us and be gone

I wonder if we have a choice

Well I don’t know it at all

To free and liberate our souls

Or to stand up against the wall

If you could turn back the time

Would you brave and make the call?

For there was a boy I knew

Now I don’t know him at all

A Black Cat

A black cat with a tinge of gray

Crossed my tracks yesterday

It was anything but unlucky

For she helped the writer in me

Born From The Waters

I don’t understand the world and the world doesn’t understand me

I was born from the waters and will be tossed back into the sea

I never intended to find a meaning. I was just happy to be

A part of someone’s smile, dream, hope, love or memory

Secret Beauty Tips

Here are some secret beauty tips
Not that you really need it
You are just so beautiful
You still might want to heed it

Lend someone a helping hand
Help someone who is in trouble
Gift a smile to the grieving
Watch that glow grow double

Spend time with a baby
Find a bumblebee on a bud
Hear the skylarks singing
Your heart will pump more blood

Take responsibility for your actions
Accept your defeats with grace
Be humble in your victories
Get a sparkling, jolly face

Is Life A Screening?

Is Life a screening

To keep us from intervening

With Love, Nature, World

And God’s real meaning?

If This World Were More Perfect

If this world were more perfect

We’d have more heart and less brain

More squirrels and less pain

Less religion and more blossoms

More humility and less problems

More love which is sacred

Less anger, less hatred

More leaves with shining droplets

Less gadgets and less idiots

More violins and trumpets

Less critics and more poets

Balloons

When I was a kid

I had balloons

Lots and lots of balloons

I would hold on to the end of their string

Let them transport me away

They would take me to the skies

Over the city’s scrapers

Amongst the cool winds and the birds

I could see everything down below

People marching about like ants

Trucks the size of my toy car

Factories and schools all looked alike

Marvellous things all around

Yet I gazed at the clouds

Those white, fluffy balls

Floating, wandering aimlessly

Just how I wished to be

I would jump from one cloud to another

Like an astronaut on Moon

With my gravity-defying balloons

Hours and hours would jump with me

Till the daylight disappeared

And dark clouds and fatigue took over

Then I would descend

Upon the mundane earth

Into my warm room with a cozy bed

I would sleep on a cloud-like pillow

Smiling, dreaming

Of another fascinating trip the next day

That’s how my childhood passed

But now I’m a grown man

With those balloons still with me

They could still transport me to the skies

I just don’t let them

I’m a grown man now