A Thin Shrill Voice
A thin shrill voice I hear in the air
It seems to tell me the things that I should hear
A future with grief, misery, nuclear war
Man killing man
Massacre everywhere
Momentarily the thin shrill voice hang in the still evening air
And then she disappears out to nowhere out of nowhere
I walk lonely and alone near my marigold and geranium
Some roses have budded today and I could smell the sweet fragrance in
the air
As if time suspended
As if the evening stars do not care
A shoals of fireflies have gathered together above the shrubs of
hemlock and pink pensive poinsettia
I look for the voice
But the voice disappeared
Leaving me alone to sort through my own unanswered prayer
Questions question me
Answers have no answers
A bulbul lonesome sing a song that never been sung before or will be
sing ever after
The pale blue arched sky slowly prepare to shut her eyes
Evening will come soon and daylight will depart wrapping the night in
her warm cozy archive
The pair of robins with pink feet and beaks of colorful streaks are
feeding nonchalantly some strange exotic seeds off the thrown out
bird’s feed lying carelessly by the faded feet of some broken bricks
O whereof the shrill voice has gone
The late night rain pours in rhythm silent forlorn
The memory of my childhood peep through the layers of the approaching
Some are happy
Some are sad
I remember my hard-working, honest father taking me to the small
village fair
Buying me sweets, kite, candy
Telling me to watch the magician
Then I would come home to my kind, dear mother
She would sing lullaby and rock me to sleep with thousand kisses and
O now the father is dead
The mother is so old and need constant care
Life’s a mystery
Death is maya
Before long I shall be following on the footsteps of my father and
Material possessions won’t follow us to our graveyards
All will be forgotten and forsaken
All will be dust and air
Skin will fall
Bone will decay
Continuance of life and death shall continue to shape, reshape till
the Old Man of the sky decide otherwise to shape, reshape Universe,
Death again
A thin shrill voice I hear in the winnowing whir of the windy wire
Wings of the windows
Weddings of the widows and the widowers
The woods wild wet woebegone wait patiently for the seeds to sprout,
and the leaves to grow upward toward the latent light source
Shading the heat of the sun reaching to the tenderly growing moss and
Shrill voice
Shrill voice
Send me a prayer
Send me a seer
The seer who seek no prayer
The prophet who stir no faith or fear
A will that do not will
A daredevil who do not dare
A tear that has no tear
A fear that do not fear
A feather that fall not
A dew with no due to take care
Cry and smile
Laughter and left behind
Vice and virtue
Satan, God, and Sadhu
Meditative meditation
Contemplative contemplation
Church, mosque, temple
Cold war
Hot war
Heated tension
Assad is still killing the Syrians like mice, ant, roach
UN impasse
Nobody cares if they all die or rot
Sandusky kept on abusing kids taking advantage of the Penn State, and
the Second Mile that he founded to prey on the naive innocent child
And though the people around him knew about it, nobody did a damned
thing to stop the pedophile
A word of advice to the modern parents, do not leave your kids alone,
do not let them out of your sights
This place is full of freaks, rapists, lunatics, pedophiles
Watch where you’re going
Watch who you’re talking to most of the time
Believe nobody till you know their outs and ins
First degree burn
Potent poison, poppy, and pun
Nuns in the nunnery run run run
Their rosary fall off their fingers
Lips linger on lust
Temptation, emotion burn their virgin-barns
They must, they must run to be baptized to be burnt by the knights of
the nightingales in the holy month of fun
The ceilings of the church shake
The temple stones turn to dust
The dome of the mosque come out loose as the thunder and the lightning
The petticoat of the virgin-girl lay in blood as the beast of the
marital art tore open her virginal hub
Open wide space
Oceans wet and wise
The surface of the sulphur ignites as it touches the fluid surface of
the watery eye
Do not let the float sink
Do not let them intimidate or control your mind
You’re the uniqueness of your own unique mind
All else is immaterial
All else is lie
Light and darkness
Darkness and dream in black and white dye
Dancing daffodil
Daisy tender tight
Dry parched lips of lily long to kiss the dewy lips of the mist of the
pre-dawn light
Soft subtle sunshine
Waves upon waves roll relighting sunlight
The thin shrill voice still stand still off the hem of the semi-
circular opalescent paradise
As if the face of the Earth is about to face the Face of the Divine
The presence of invisibility cannot piece together the passion
prancing pieces of the perplexing plethora of plight
Nature abhors vacuum
Vacuum likes to stay empty
The same repel
The opposite attract
Repudiation of the incrimination
Incarceration of the soul inmate inside the cell of flesh-fed-formulation
Clarification of the ionization
Recognition of the wealthy nations
While the poor nations suffer from victimization, radicalization from
the richer nations’ domination, infiltration
A thin shrill voice cry in the night as the cries of the crickets
below the rain-clad overcast sky
What disguise
What delight
What sight is hidden behind the sight
And what secret is shrouded inside the shroud of secretive site
A thin shrill voice still sigh
Knowing not the meaning of death and life
A felted pen write about the stories of fairies, elves, and paradise
Line after line of nonsensical rhyming rhyme
The sudden spontaneous outburst of my feverish mind
The myriad of mythical sadness and smile precariously stand upright
upon the thin sheet of frozen ice
O death
O life
O Hell
O Paradise
O my shaky humanity whereof do you lie
Why such unrest
Why such inequality in power, pride
It’s only one planet
It’s only one life
Death cannot be conquered
Life cannot be concocted, or connived
Let us love each other
Let us not fight
Let us share our sadness and happiness under the same semi-circular sky
The paths unknown are the paths that are best to be left alone
Do not dare to question the mystery of God and of His endless infinite
signs and symbols
Nor delve into the forbidden zone of which you’ve no idea or thought
Be calm
Be content
Be grateful to thy Lord
Be steadfast in thy faith and religion
Think before you talk
Look before you cross
Love your wife and children
Respect your parents above all
The thin shrill voice sing me a song of ever peaceful sort
A silent sob is heard in a rain-drop
Sighing whisper of the subdued wind the poetic passion sought
Alas! He couldn’t champion the cause
An astray bullet passed right through his right occipital lobe
He lay dead in a ditch full of dead soldiers of misfortune
Eyes shut and shot
He’s passing away through the tunnel of nameless block
The thin shrill voice comes no more
It died out with the bullet shot
I’m still standing
Shaking on one foot
Atop a mountain of dream and doubt
Still searching for the thin shrill voice that came to me revealing
the truth of the untold truth raw nude topless with no senses or sound
O was it a voice
Or was it a warning echo
Echoing of the foreshadow of the coming shadow
A silhouette in the shade stealing away to show the secret of the
secret in a soul
In chain
Incarcerated for the sin that it never felt or seen
Let alone the fate of the film that hang loose and still off the
uterine thread of my mother to be
No more
Ever more
Be still
I’m not the one who you steal still–

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