Philosophy Poems
Time to Pretend
by Somali Mukherjee
When life gets stationary
Like a mossy stone,
When time feels like
A claustrophobic cul-de-sac,
When people pelt stones at you
Like a pack of snarling stray-dogs,
It is felt that we must pretend;
Aye, it's time to pretend,
For, being unmasked, you can't
Survive in the midst of
......
The Best Moment
by Somali Mukherjee
The moment we do
Perceive that we’re imperfect,
We try to succeed.
The Measureless Motion
by Somali Mukherjee
The river flows on,
Though there are murky forests
On its either side.
Unintelligible Words
by Somali Mukherjee
The ocean behind
Seems to speak a lot of things;
We can't understand.
Mea Culpa
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Whenever seven dots appear on the hanging firth of the brook
We summon mercies upon our shattered dreams.
Just like the vagitus breaking forth the silence of a misted dawn,
We shall sit in orgies of prayers,
Drinking down pints of sin,
Selecting pages of scenes
And rebuking tendons of debauchery.
Midnight,
Find us, please
With restless, loosened tongues
......
The Best Moment
by Somali Mukherjee
The moment we do
Perceive that we’re imperfect,
We try to succeed.
Solitude
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
The cruel laughter of the soul
Laments its flagellation by time,
Ebbed on the flattened stones of
A raped river.
Sorrow, an amanuensis of silence,
Reads the minutes of the last meeting
Held within dying doors, between
Mind and soul, two warring nations
Of a proud heart,
Now asleep with bloodshot eyes.
......
Illusion
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
The church bell tolled
Within the village’s yawing spree.
Dawn was calm and deep, easing
Light’s hegemony over lukewarm darkness
And the frailty of post-hour orisons.
I saw the clergy’s bedraggled chasuble,
Cursed by the fierce streak of something reddish.
On his mouth spewed forth wind-caked saliva,
Evidence of a hidden tryst.
......
Mea Culpa
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Whenever seven dots appear on the hanging firth of the brook
We summon mercies upon our shattered dreams.
Just like the vagitus breaking forth the silence of a misted dawn,
We shall sit in orgies of prayers,
Drinking down pints of sin,
Selecting pages of scenes
And rebuking tendons of debauchery.
Midnight,
Find us, please
With restless, loosened tongues
......
Testimony
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
I recall by chance the astuteness of rain
When the thin smoke from charged pulses of cold haze
Befriended the weeded way . . .
Leering further into the viscera of the village,
Clouds of old beginnings heaved potent sighs,
Loud, frenetic and full of powder.
I revelled in the warmth of acid lightning,
Quick to mirror the village in its own image.
The grey breath was intense,
......
