All Out !

               All Out!

     
         All out !         
         Advocates out of courts,
         The jailed, out, on bail;
         Parties out of alliance,
         Their members out of ministry;
         People out of senses,
         Their elected men evicted off and on,
         Out of Houses, lower and upper;
         Students out of classes,
         On issues out of soil;
         Babies out of homes, in day care arms;
         Elders out of joint home thrills,
         With their children out of region and country; 
         Fair sex fretting, out of safety net,
         With male hounds all out, madly after it;               
         Professions out of ethical hold,
         Their precepts, viewed out of date;
         Rule of law let out to outlaws, 
         As burglars move in and out,
         When the inmates are out;
         All is out in an open game,
         For a field show of scuffle, fisticuffs and blows,
         When each one's routine, to its all time low goes.
         
                                                    P.Chandrasekaran.

The Oddest Operator.

   The Oddest Operator.

Fan! Whip up passions!

Says a side of the brain.

Ban! Banish emotions!

Says the other.

Likes and dislikes are not mere labels.

They are vehicles for varied locations,

Tools of the brain, to heat and treat

Disorders small and serious,

Rooted to the whims of the bilateral

Systems of the psychic composition.

The human brain like the God Supreme

Makes and unmakes its own makings.

With its synoptic base odd and broad.

                                     P.Chandrasekaran.

The Burgeoning Eclipses.

         The Burgeoning Eclipses.

The earth has moved faster and farther

From the Platonic to the Electronic.

Eclipses stronger than the solar and lunar

Have engulfed the earth every century,

In the form of evolution and revolution.

The heirs of sages were struck down by

A subterfuge of Satanic designs;

Powerful paid brokers of politics
Have regularly revolved around religion,

Besides encircling politics with their
Preambles and precepts of perversity.

Sports and games stand sabotaged by salesman stuff.

Science is submerged in the devices of stalwarts
Of race, region and space ,

As an imp of the international barter.

Life saving hands lie mostly, currency bound.

The voice of Truth is gagged by firm falsehood.

The closed eyes of the Goddess of justice,

Reflect shame more than the sense of balance.

Gadgets have kept humanity anesthetized,

With its emotional side paralyzed beyond recovery.

The driving forces of man are man’s own making,

As eclipses growing on the planet, than around.

                                               P.Chandrasekaran.

The Void.

   The Void.

The echoes in a void mind

Are like still born babies.

One who cannot and does not love,

Sees the emptiness exploding

Into atoms of annoying nothing.

A mind filled with warmth of love

Rejuvenates, reverberates and is heard

Like  the cries of healthy babies born to rule.

God takes a holiday from shrines
Crowded with picnic thoughts 
Rather than souls seeking solace.

The presence of God is in the gathering

Of those who assemble never to dissemble.

Prayers emanating from patterns of true love

Reach the ears of God in their original form.

The voice of the Supreme, with its wield

Makes resplendent  responses to those

That replenish love and joy and hope for all.

All holy books hold on to one decoding device.

But man tries to decode them with different tools.

Stand, kneel, prostrate; but pervert not the path,

With traffic encumbrances of echoes of emptiness .

                                               P.Chandrasekaran.

My Winter Days in Chicago..

          My Winter Days in Chicago.

 ===========================

The Navy Pier charm and Napervile calm

Make Chicago a place of free, fleeting form.

The brutal wind here, blows hot and cold,

Cutting the warmth into a whipping mold;

Like a butcher’s bold knife battering in gore,

In a pair of riding rapacious hands that soar.

The skins used to the scathing, chill weather,

Brace the wind, striking its sheen to wither.

But those new to the soil and its savage wind,

Are set to suffer its strokes for want of a rind.

Life in this zone for natives, is lived in its best;

For those visiting in winter, it is a litmus test.

The once a way trip to the august,Aurora shrine,

Keeps the body and mind protected, fit and fine.

                                                 P.Chandrasekaran.

Prophetic Clippings.

    Prophetic Clippings.

=====================

Life’s tricky shots were those

That exposed the intricate designs

From the never expected quarters.

The silent inner voice turned shaky for a while.

The click of the camera was casual.

What came in the picture, was not of course

On the agenda of the photographic schedule.

While the focusing was accidental,

The attached shocks were incidental.

Casual clippings at times carry, count downs

On subtle revelations of a rudderless sailing

With those believed to protect;

Controlled shots are those that hide

Falsehood with a kind of fellow feeling.

Intrusions inherit clues for the future. 

                                      P.Chandrasekaran.

Sham Sympathies.

             Sham Sympathies.

Cruising on the Caribbean Sea,

As I did last, on the Atlantic waters,

The repeat course of the line of buffets

And the heap of food that was wasted

As a privilege of paid navigation,

Hit me hard with the impoverished faces

Failing repeatedly to have access to

Something to eat once a way.

The voice of hunger surpassed

The surge of enjoyment, in a large scale.

The punching cry of poverty

Would grudge my indulgence,

Mocking at my manipulative qualms.

                                 P.Chandrasekaran.