IMITATING ANGELS – The Philosophical Poetry from India

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Forest-Fire

God! Men have also learnt the science

Of making fire without using matchstick

Your angels also set forests on fire

Jernail S Aanand, a renowned poet, writer and philosopher of India, shares his poetry  

Jernail S Anand - Sindh CourierJernail Singh Anand is President of the International Academy of Ethics. He is author of 165 plus books in English poetry, fiction, non-fiction, philosophy and spirituality. The Academy of Arts and Philosophical Sciences, Bari (Italy) honored him with the prestigious position of Honorable Academic. He was awarded Charter of Morava, the great International Award in Creativity by Serbian Writers Association, Belgrade at the60th Belgrade International Writers Meeting (Oct 2023), and his name was engraved on the Poets’ Rock in Serbia. Recently, he was awarded Doctor of Philosophy [Honoris Causa] by the University of Engg and Management, Jaipur abd Noman Survivors Literary Award from. Naji Naaman Foundation.  His most phenomenal book is Lustus: The Prince of Darkness [first epic of the Mahkaal Trilogy]. Email: anandjs55@yahoo.com

Link Bibliography:

https://atunispoetry.com/2023/12/08/indian-author-dr-jernail-s-anand-honoured-at-the-60th-belgrade-international-meeting-of-writers/

99000632 Bangalore Mirror
Image courtesy: Bangalore Mirror

IMITATING ANGELS

The tangled web of wires

Followed by electricity poles

Some sparrows had thought

Were better than trees.

Cemented poles

And long straight wires

So impressive it looked

Far better than the trees

With small insects

Shaking even in slow breeze…

 

The squirrel who lived on the tree

Found a road passing by

Huge vehicles running along

She thought on the other side

There was a great world

Ventured she out

Only to find icemen drawing close

She ran back to the tree

Her pipe dreams shattered lie

 

I look at the trees in amazement

What men have done

Is only to imitate the divine

See how solar energy passes

Through the branches

To the stem

And how without stoves

These leaves can cook their food.

See the entire vegetation

Making its community lunch.

 

This is God’s creation.

You can’t see any animal

Burning a bonfire in winter

Nor they make any ‘dumba’

Catching poor creatures

And roasting them on fire

God did not allow them wits

Which they could abuse to kill and destroy

 

God! Men have also learnt the science

Of making fire without using matchstick

Your angels also set forests on fire

Men have gone too far on the road to alienation

Bring them back to the path

Of humanity and love for nature.

The men who venerated trees and rivers

Were better though we label them

As Pagans or tribals.

***

Dogs-in-a-Restaurant.0
Image courtesy: Eater

FANTASIES OF A BITCH

The dogs were enjoying a free lunch

Running around in abandon

Young men are often very serious

About their career

These dogs young and old

Lifted their tail above

And move about in streets

Unconcerned

 

They looked with disdain

At the dogs who were moving about

With their masters

For nature’s call in pure colonial style

They knew what to eat,

And whom to bark

And no one to bite

Just image a dog without a bark

And without a bite, o my god! They thought.

 

The bitch looked a lot loaded

With responsibilities

Her jumping was absent,

And movement too a bit slow

One could see a few puppies

Inside her body

Hanging like a living weight

Where is the dad of these puppies

She fantasizes as she moves along the road

 

How will be the puppies.

How many males, how many females

What will be their colours?

And their nature?

Will they remember their mother?

She was confused

She has no memory of her mother

And father?

No dog remembered.

 

She looked at the road

And the passing vehicles

Blaring in high tones.

Scaring them away

How can I put this wisdom

In their heads,

Not to course along these

Bitchy roads alone

She had seen the old lady

Whose son took to the road

And never returned.

 

She sighs to think of her puppies

How many will survive

And how many die crying for her

Under the dirty wheels?

She was the only one

Left alive

Of her seven siblings

She cannot do anything

She will have to give birth

And then suffer the shocking loss.

_______________  

Read: The Secret of Eternal Fragrance – Philosophical Poetry from India

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