But I still appreciate the locals,

Burnt food in most cases,

But I still can boil water for tea,

Food for the belly,

Not much in this.

But I still appreciate the locals,

Burnt food in most cases,

But I still can boil water for tea,

Food for the belly,

Not much in this.

Twenty and two years lies in

the back garden,

Where the whole world assembled

in that castle,

A day that forced the world

to her knees,

As the world trade fare crumbled

And many sent to their early grave.

The wickedness of the heartless

was in the sky,

As the thunderous blast tore

down the world house,

World wailed at the waiting

talking screen

Not a single country was left

out of mourning,

A day when the devil and the world

dine together at the gate of hell,

The wound still looks fresh on the

bereaved families and friends.

Two decades and two years was

an history untold,

Should humanity lives in the

hearts of all

That demon wouldn’t have wrecked

havoc on fellow men,

Hatred has no resting room, where

love has no room left unoccupied,

9/11, we will remember till

our last breath.

To the lost souls we placed

our solidarity,

By their grave yards,

To the bereaved families,

we pray for a renewed comfort

To the sponsors of wickedness

and terrorism,

We admonish them to choose

humanity over fanaticism,

Let the world come to understand

That good neighborliness is

without hatred,

That humanity first,

before religionism,

That peace as nothing to do

with war or violence,

That tolerance is the only virtue

that keeps us in bond despite

our different faces,

That one evil act begat another

horrendous one,

That diplomacy without love

is an act of war.

As we bring 9/11 to mind,

We also weep over the vulnerable

Israel and Palestine

Let us embrace love for all

and hatred for none.

Jiggling the bell of peace in the

war turned zones,

Crying on the broken edges of unity,

Holding the Rabi and the Hamas

on either hands,

Declaring a solemn moment

of reflection.

Playing a clip of their actions

to them,

Revealing the infants dead bodies

littering the street,

Causing their eyes to see how

innocent blood is drained into

the stream,

Pleading by their high exalted

self defense,

There is more to life than war,

We cannot be better by war,

No one lives with clear

conscience after war,

The blood of the innocents

cries had for vengeance,

I will take the path of peace to Gaza,

I will cause the opposing

sides to walk there by,

That both children can only refer

to the history of war and enmity,

As posterity strengthens the

cord of foreseeable unity.

I will open their eyes to the beauty

of love,

That they may by this, choose

the path of peace.

My quest might appears to wear

the regalia of possible risk,

I will choose the path of

peace in Gaza,

Since the UN has chosen to

be passive at the corridors

of diplomatic incorrigibility.

So proud of you, great mother,

An epitome of love you were Mum,

Your absence is a vacuum unfilled,

Your counsels still echo clear,

Sweet Mum am so proud of you,

You defy pleasures to get us trained,

You kindheartedness knew

no bound,

As your good works speak

of you,

I will forever be grateful for

your worthy life on this

side of eternity,

I wish you are still here with us,

I wish I can enjoy seeing

your old age,

I wish my daughter could

behold her loving grandma,

I wish you are here to

tell your grandchildren those

good old stories,

A mother with distinction

you were,

Sweet Mum,

Even at your exit,

I am so proud of you.

From my hidden corridor

I found no rest,

Seeing through the window

blinds the horror of men,

As the fainting voices of

hopeless infants scream

in an untold agonizing tears,

The innocent victims of an

avoidable war on world street.

Nothing to work on than to

plead with the gladiators of war,

That they might hear and cease fire,

Two wrongs never make a right,

War begat war as no one

ready to quit.

For the sake of the vulnerable

I cause no rest for my pen,

For the sake of casualties

on both wings

My pen plead for peace,

Yes, someone must be blamed

for every conflict I guess,

But in much words we seek

reasons for a redress.

Peace is costly scarce,

but not unaffordable,

It takes two to tangle on the

table of diplomacy,

Our journey to peaceful

harbour is less than a mile,

But too far for jet fighters to reach,

On the wings of long-suffering

shall we all scale all huddles,

That our differences might

not stand as barriers,

On our path to global peace.

We will be glued to the

inking feather,

Until we all accost the global peace.

Long ago I found a pen,

Not on sight but inner mind,

Bit by bit I got to know,

It’s a friend for life with me.

One by one it coined out words,

Two by two I filed it in,

Tense by tense it makes a sense,

And many people ask me how.

Little do they know my friend,

Hiding deeply in my thought,

Noise unheard so loud within,

Then I know it’s time to write.

Words of peace it whispers on,

Causing all my fingers move,

Cresting on the hearts of men,

Not from me but through a friend.

Loving friendly is my pen,

Cuddling close my simple heart,

Schooling me to hate no one,

But to care with words of peace.

Many fellows do not know,

That I have a golden friend,

That forever we shall be,

Preaching love till whole world know.

One by one we craft the words,

Two by two we chant in peace,

Till the whole world smile in peace,

Pen and I will stand on still.

Whether it makes me

unproductive or not,

is a function of my

momentum desire,

Whether it gives my cavity

a moment of rest or not,

depends on my prevailing

order of demand,

Each day in the history of man,

is marked with countless activities,

Even the sabbath is a workday

for the clergy,

No day appears to be literally lazy,

Man works round the clock,

To meet both needs and wants,

Toiling from dawn to dust,

Yet none has been able to

gain the world,

Lest he got crushed under

the yoke of labour,

National lazy day was instituted,

That human body might rest,

From all activities of labour.

Does lazy day applies to all?

As essential workers have

no such privilege.

It is neither rest not unproductive,

It is a period of reflection,

rejuvenation and  retreat to refire,

The body may be at inertia,

yet the brain keeps projecting

into a comely future,

We rest to reset our activities

as human,

Human activities devoid

of rest might collapse in a

short while,

Yet no lazy day is wholesomely

void of activities.

But endless lazy day awaits all men,

Just at that corner below six feet,

When that bed will be laid for us all,

No necessity of life can awake

anyone resting there.

When I think of the hands that

fashioned the universe

and the architectural alignment

of our lithosphere,

The real definition of success

comes to mind,

He is eternally successful, that

has brought us to be.

He fashioned the most gorgeous

beautiful being called human,

He made beautiful animals

in millions according to their

order of habitations,

Herbs in trillium species feeding

both human and animals,

He caused every members of the

nebula to be suspended in the space,

Each travelling in different order

of orbital alignment without a

noticeable accidental collision,

Heavens and heavenly bodies

are by His unsearchable wisdom,

By His wisdom cause the sun to

brightens our days and the

moon to replicate a lesser light

by night,

No successful order of an

eternal arrangement has

been as consistent as this,

God, you are eternally successful.

No science can fathom your wisdom,

He is successful in wisdom

that gives success to the most

successful.

He that comes to mind is He that

fashioned all that is in existence.

God Almighty is eternally successful.