To freedom.

TO  FREEDOM One for your benign touch, one for my touch Enchained Oh spirit of freedom let thy mighty banner Untamed Pass over the unbidden bush with your clarion Sounding Wave thy lightning lance and brave the slaves Binding Like the ferocious western wind burning with Feverish skull Swording the hungry oppressors and mirroring Their pelf The wide sparkle of your movement putting To shame enflaming The glories of tempered self with Melancholy tinge ungaining The fenced gleam of your bloodless sacrifices And caresses Demolishing the hundred gates of frauded Beleagured oppressors. For many an ages I have pondered and piled Arrayed in wisdom’s hand gleaned over dull cide Suffered the quenchless agonies Degraded at the jester’s hand Of no avail the raven’s laugh or other Palsyfying venoms Stood under castled walls of vermin & swallowed Falsehood’s fallen estate each brick and canker Till silent became revolt and wounds the thistle Of slavish tendrils paving the way To sufferings and decay At the hands of men breathing their pungent glaik. Here on earth all things conspire to add more Linked chains To existence and its punishment redeemed as worms Far away things dissolve like stray air while The misery of littleness combs her hair And clasp each sanctioned knave With tight knit hands like rust colour fog Thick in throat Embossing each yondle and hoary eyed with Stampeded stone The dogs that guard their masters with empty Coarser fangs Night a failure like past frozen contained in lanes Of ordinariness gathered in upgraded braces of Boredom and fanes. Rekindle oh spirit all the faded memories Of mine Quench with burning breath this Uncompanioned hand Enlarging my thoughts with new sense found Beyond Tired sameness of finches’ song in some brunt isle. Wandering with cleft wanderers of visions Clasp my hand and unfurl your flag then fly away Out of this life’s everlasting misery Its multitudinss nothingness The grandeur of your thoughts beyond our Little kens. Cover the tired eyelids with oblivion or embalm With your knifed reeds all my willowed solitary songs. The dead drunk judge of our fate sits on His high throne and changing the scenes on The curtained stage Every hour we act our little part soft salined When enamoured hands rise to pay salutations To canters of maze. In one act we act as fools to please The jocund public or our humiliations. In other Acts we persuade ourselves to act as amassers Of fortunes, a gay lord of septet castles A prince of darkness Like wild vipers when we stand apart from stage And see all our mean hemlocks drained to soil the cage. The truth is there to look but heart never accepts Turning recuddling on its pampered steed The hazardous tracks Of wooded worldly paths, of envy of other’s fate Riches of masters or deeds of anchored slaves Each bosom here bears the bewildered bondage Looking the way to Buddhahood spurned from intent. Teach me to see that the world has as much reality As myself and accumulation of grief does not Make it inenser. Let not the stars melt into Sobs which encroaches The liberty to define think choose and of endurance. Speed sagaciously freedom with your emblem flying Despising and putting to shame this dull race And all its kind When stabbed and starved your followers Unheralded undermined Ring back the curtains that obstruct Your follow through brine Ring out the hampered pinnacle That sultered every breath Fence out the bondage that consumed The gory skin and ketch. Every ray of individuality Every visage grand concealed As if in the furnace of living Burnt all the unwanted deeds Purge away my belittled life with spectral gleams Limitless be thy reach for flowers in gilded fields Cast then as your prey downy slumbers of intellect Give hopes to reapers of liberty of unyielding sect. Written April 21st, 2002 © on May 12 2002 02:38 AM PST   18 • 0 • 13