Fables of The Self

Disjointed Thoughts

As I decided to take a bite
the lobster slipped across the table
missing the lady by a fraction.
No, no, it was not alive;
or was it?
The agonizing confusion
and the deja vu situation
exposed my disjointed actions.

Should I blame it on my preceptor
at whose hermitage I took lessons
to know 'the world' better?
Meanwhile, as I pondered,
the door opened and the hermit
beckoned me again;
he's to talk more about
knives, forks, and lobsters.


Your letters of yesteryears
have become support for my lonely life;
lovely was the time when we first met.

I forgot how the time passed; and
you never came to keep the promise,
to me it seemed natural to wait.

No, I do not want to know the reason
that prevented you to reach your love,
it must be genuine, I accept.

In this nostalgic misfortune, however,
I have become a philosopher of a style,
'nothing was lost' I can say as I reflect.

The Path

The roots and fruits are attached
to two ends of the same string,
the string that cannot ascend vertically.
It coils and recoils in spiral fashion,
giving rise to illusion of duality.
But soon, the fruit merges with the soil
and the sapling starts, afresh,
its spiral journey towards the sky.

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The One Thing

With that sand on the seashore
we laboured to create a piece of art,
like a flimsy hourglass, however,
Time labeled it 'a thing of the past'.

Nothing lasts; nothing is stationary, strangely, with our own weaponry we tried to kill a mocking bird, teasingly flying outside the trajectory.

Art is exhibited amidst market cries,
a label or a tag denotes the sham price,
auctioned with a stroke of the hammer,
as per the mood of the buyer or the seller.

Have we understood the substratum behind
- inside and outside the body and mind?
> One Value compares with the changes around,
as on a screen thousand pictures abound.


The red, yellow, and green
postpone the accidents till
they blink in harmony;
the ruthless signal symphony.

The violet, blue, and purple
intermingle their fragrance,
as we walk hand in hand
in their joyous company.

Shades of emotions manifest
as a rainbow of feelings tender;
strange, tears act as a prism
for dispersing colourful laughter.

Complexities of Walking Together

Won't you slow down a bit?
I want to walk alongside you.
You take rapid strides while
I am short in my reach.

Do not compare the physique,
for I am dwarf, I am aware;
it relates to the sky dear -
to the height the mind can soar.

Do not change the course,
for every path takes you there;
it relates to the direction dear
that our thought takes in particular.

all poems by c s shah