I say,

Poems on Walk

I say, you witnessed his violence the other day.

Imagine a fate of a hapless bee,

A magnificent machine,

However small it may be.

All day long, buzzing in and out a heath,

Looking for flowers, especially those with

Lithe stems and tender calyxes

Bashfully disguised beneath a fluffy tussocks,

Which in turn have chosen to take cover by the side of rocks.

No wonder the bees are enamoured

With such an unassuming flowers,

They yield succulent nectars

Those magnum opus, bumptious gaudy ones

Could not offer.

Then a man came along

Be it Inadvertently trod

On the delicate body of the anthropoid,

Breaking the limbs and

Went the head dropped.

In extremes the bee glowered

But the man appeared not to have heard

Or if he did, he seemed not to have cared.

Finally when he saw

A dying bee lying below in the meadow

He groused that how was he to know

And even if he did, he had done nothing wrong

To make his heart filled with sorrow.

As it was his right of way

The bee ought to have taken to the sky

Rather opting to stay, as if it had a wish to die.

Leaving the bee supine,

Beyond the heath, past the stacks of hay,

The man continued his way

Without the slightest remorse

Needlessly a life, albeit a midget, had been mowed

I say, you were there, you witnessed the gratuitous incident the other day,

But you chose a word not to say.

Then the man came across

Another man battle accoutrements dressed,

Dismantling a hive with intent

To plunder its entire content.

In the ensuing fracas

Some occupants got gassed.

Befuddled and unable to breath

After short distance flight

They succumbed in to the grasses.

However, a few fired up with mettle

Stood guard at the entrance of once

Was their residential castle?

And put up a brave fight

Against a giant,

Several thousand rounds heavier than their weight.

Realising the odds stack against the brave gnomes,

Which unlike the rest who chose not to retreat

The intruder felt no threat.

Consequently he swatted and mangled the

Poisonous darts,

With which the bees had hoped

They would impale his heart.

This is a man without guilty conscience

Nor the fear none existent social or legal consequences.

You were there, you witnessed what had happened, I say

But you chose a word not to say.

This is the story of man with callous attitudes

Towards other living multitudes.

Surprise, surprise!

And there is another man

Who thinks he is high up the ladder?

In the animal world order.

Deep inside him, deeper than he cares to uncover,

Deep inside him, deeper than he contemplates to ponder

He feels superior to others.

He conscience is clear

Though it is on the other side of the fence.

He knows for sure,

There is little or no legal or social barrier

That would stop him executing his caveat desire.

He raids and plunders

Other peoples' resources

Without the slightest remorse.

He is wrapped in his complacence.

He believes his act is blessed,

He fears no perdition,

Nor earthly retaliation,

If the Gomes stand and stay

On what he thinks is his right of way,

And to his dismay demand of him respect

In return, thrashing is what they would get

Like the bee when they sensed his ubiquitous presence

They should to have cringed like a crab - that is hermit

And all the way back to their (womb) root

They ought to have retreated.

He has accumulated so much technological power

And material wealth,

Nonetheless it is deployed suffering not to mitigate

Rather, it is the will of people to suffocate

He can hurt whenever and wherever

And Scot-free he can walk over.

I say, you witness his violence the other day

But you chose a word not to say.

Just like all men do harm the bee,

Forget the ant and the spider

A marketable product in man's favour

They do not manufacture.

Every time this man goes out

The other man falls prey.

Soon he would be left with no one

To wash his dirty tray.

I say. You did witness his gratuitous violence the other day

But you chose a word not to say.

Revised 26/5/2001-29/5/2001