Life

LIFE
(December, 2005.)
Very important!
The Liveth knows it,
The death knows not.
‘T is ne’er valued
In that world,
World of caskets.
.
‘T is ne’er valued
In that town,
Town of coffins.
Ne’er in that city,
That dark city;
The grave.
.
No! Not in that black home,
That last, final home;
Six feet down the ground.
Life’s very important,
Live it wisely
Or die a deadly death.
-B. M. Atsen








OLD TOMORROW
(6th June, 2007.)
Wonderful ‘morrow,
Old and narrow.
As the next scene,
You can’t be seen.
Ages have hard of you,
None ever saw you.
No one knows your package;
No one knows your damage.
You are invisibly visible,
You are possibly impossible.
You! The talk of the day,
Are the terror of today.
When Men’s breathe dries,
Tomorrow never dies.
-B. M. Atsen


TODAY IS YESTERDAY
(25th April, 2008.)
When today was unripe,
on yesterdays’ turfed branch,
Scattered its sepals stood.
.
Bare petals and ovary,
Were ennui even at lunch;
Plodding, trudging, looking waify.
.
Nuked by nude night noon,
Its embryo throbs at its touch,
And today is yesterday soon.
.
Baby today is yesterday,
Young today is today, at such,
Tomorrow is an aged today.
-B. M. Atsen

NO NOTICE
(Dedicated to my birth Mother.)
(September, 2006.)
We were once together,
As if in a leather.
Laughing with no sorrow,
Like no tomorrow.
We took life in full,
Knowing, but forgetting that fool.
We never knew it was so,
Because we said no.
We were saying no,
Because we don’t know.
He looks like a glass frame,
When he first came.
He took you away,
And followed that way.
We waited to say bye,
But closed was your eye.
Yes! He gave no notice,
‘Cause he walks like tortoise.
I knew about dead too,
When I was two;
And I’ve seen his fur,
When I was four.
Yes! I’ve seen it,
‘Cause I was fit.
-B. M. Atsen

GOD BLESSES THE DEAD
(A sonnet to my birth Mother.)
(September, 2005.)
They lived peacefully,
They will rest in peace.
They have left us,
And we have left thus;
We sympathize in piece,
For them to rest fully.
.
My Mother took the path,
To the land of the breathless.
She was always sufficient,
To the solution of my deficient.
That white heart rest helpless,
In the heart of the earth.
God sometimes give comfortable deathbed
And God also blesses the dead.
-B. M. Atsen

TRIP TO LOVE AND LIFE
(20th June, 2007.)
This trip took I warmly a child’s smile,
Ended me a double mutual mile.
The optic dared not its end look,
Or the thorns and thistles hooks;
And I – dawdled fathomless.
.
Day is night of their dark shadows,
And hedged, hence my innuendoes.
Populous, hurting as women’s jealousy,
And vertigo went my fantasy;
To heartbreak, no, death alas.
-B. M. Atsen

WHO’S INSANE?
(29th December, 2007.)
On the way a madman I saw;
Kicking, picking and eating
Dirty, rusty, rotten items.
.
On the way a madman I met;
Brushing, cleaning and arranging
Dump spoiled old shoes.
.
In my thoughts I asked;
“Why on earth should he live?
Of what gain a madman is?
Why don’t all of they die?”
.
In an inn a sane man I saw;
Dressed fresh and best
In his new sewed suit.
.
In an inn a sane man I met;
His darling, dazzling sterling packing out,
Fighting, sweating and waiting for food.
.
In my thoughts I said,
“Belly – crash! The trash awaiting.”
A madman – a sane man,
Of more sane is who among?
-B. M. Atsen







VERSES TO MY BLOOD
(19th April, 2008.)
It’s plain the plains of life
I’ve thoroughly toddled,
Part of its path I’ve stepped,
That made me a mellow.
.
When ever, where ever
Hail hails on you hark not,
If cloud clouts on you,
Be brave and take heart.
.
My blood, you have my blood
I’m engraved in you, you in me,
And HE in us that made all,
Be chasten to this morpheme.
.
My blood, you may engulf not all
But must useless none,
I spake two for – one for two;
An enigma is the globe.
-B. M. Atsen