O, Triumph Don’t be Arrogant

All triumph is an illusion,

No, there is no confusion

Cos victory is pure mirage;

A momentary intrusion into the mind

That we savour, till its taste lasts,

Which, as in all things ephemeral

Does not last long,

As does not the longest song

In celebration, beneath the stars that

In quiet amusement, watch

The dancing, prancing, victor,

Who will awaken, no doubt, to a morn

That is no different from any other.

And, soon the spoils of the “high five” and remnants will

vanish,

As will the joyous smiles,

For, while triumph, is arrogant,

The aftermath, a great leveller.

Fall in Love



Fall in love with Life itself

Not with silly Power and Pelf,

Remember La Vie en Rose, friends

Play with Fairies, be the Elf.

Life seen through coloured glasses

Takes the mundane and the dreary away,

Rainbows in the skies above

As Clouds with their tears play.

A smiling heart is best of all

Lights up the darkest corners too,

The abysses of the human mind

Can always do with the colour blue.

If you don’t have Love for Life, folks

Then tell me, what have you?

No greater riches will you ever find

And, nothing greater will you ever rue.

Two Sides of the Same Coin

Two sides of the same Coin

Are, both, Empathy and Ego,

Just as we have the “Cling- to”

And the much- needed “Let- go”.

It all derives from Care and Concern

For All, not just those we call our Own,

Those that seldom enter your mind, too

And those not even on your phone.

Time’s change is the nonchalant answer

And, you’re out- of - date if you cling to the past,

As if, Death for the ‘Modern’ stands at bay

While the Rich enjoy the repast

A word that has no link at all

With the life that once was happy,

And,a world that now has no place for itself

And people, are both nasty and snappy.

You may have both Power and Pelf

But the ‘end ‘ remains the same,

For the sword above that dangles

Will take very good care of you

In Regal splendour, or broken bangles.

Eternal is Mirage, no more

Go looking from shore to shore,

All you will find is slippery sand

Your footprints in your hand

For that’s called Destiny, my friend,

And, that’s what you are if you read this,

And, if you don’t you might well find

You’ve missed the meaning of the word,

Bliss!

Om Shanti, Shanti, Shanti!

May Peace Reign, not Missiles!

he World in Shambles

Democracy in Shambles

Alas! The World in Shambles

Then, what is Democracy

No more than a Sham,

Everything’s about Power and Pelf

Nothing matters beyond the Self,

To hell with the world

And, all else,

Just ‘me” matters

The insignificant Me,

Hope we begin to the “End”

See,

‘Tis not a matter of Vision Impaired,

In a world where no one cares

Nor ever cared

About, the one next door

Or, on the next floor,

Whom you know nothing about

For, it’s only

Silence or Resounding Shout.

Where are We, Folks

What are We,

All that we hear is

Just Homily!

It’s Never Too Late

Is an adage old,

It carries value

Or, so I am told,

So, let’s sit back and quietly ponder

For,

Who knows what else

Lies beyond the wide, blue, yonder!

Let’s use our brains

Not Artificial Intelligence

For, what we have, will

Only Rust

Leaving us with

Just the Skull and

The shattered Crust.

Think, Folks! Think.

Why Does No One Listen To Anyone

Attention Spans and Focus

In very short supply,

What does this really mean

What does it imply?

If you've read and understood this

You do not need a reply

But, if blank is your stare

Then your mind's just not there

And, if you're still in the dark

The light a long way, away,

Take a solid walk in the park

Then come back for a re-play.

We'll start all over again

With a different paper and pen,

It might make a little more sense

For those who still are dense.

In simple words, folks

Mind the lamp post as you walk,

Put the latest phone away

And, delay the silly talk.

For a head on the shoulders

Is a wise move, no doubt

For, beheaded you will carry

Very little clout!

Of course, even with heads on

There are those who cannot think,

Their minds don't work

And the eyes don't blink.

Watch the present Presidential race

Where age is just a number,

With two wooly, silly, Oldies

Both in very deep slumber

Mouthing words with difficulty

That make very little sense,

Voters beginning to wonder

Specially, those sitting on the fence.

It's their choice, of course

In this game of playing Bridge,

Whether to call a suit or Trump

Or, bid Biden again.

Can't sensible, younger, people

Be found to contest,

And let the two old, decrepit, "runners"

Enjoy a well- lived rest!

Illusions, Delusions, Utopia

I wish you real happiness

In meadows green and in wilderness,

But I love my illusions and mirages

For reality is a fibrous mess.

The weft and weave of the fabric today

Right is only what the preachers say,

The leaders, the rulers, not far behind

In the corny games we all play.

Drifting clouds, so very pretty,

Fluffy white moving silently,

I get lost in them somewhere,

As stars arouse envy in me.

Two plus two is always four

But, stretch the imagination, try for more,

Reality is a bit of a bore

A story morose, why not folklore?

I love the elves, the ‘airies’, the fairies,

The ‘Wild West’ and the prairies,

Dreary, the sands on the shore

I love the seas and their mysteries.

Illusion, delusion, utopia,

Puppets in full regalia,

‘The world’s a stage’ said the Bard

Oh! The ecstasy of a Dervish’s mania.

There are many lunatics residing within us

Their names will, surely, surprise you,

The one that comes to mind is Conscience

And it's job is to forewarn and advise you

But, where is that still, small, voice today

Why is it felled , why asleep,

Where is that sense of right and wrong

Does no one now a Conscience keep?

Moral rectitude, dead and gone

Scruples, lost to the power of lucre,

Peace lies buried in the World’s cemetery

Dark, indeed, appears the future.

And then, there’s the one called the “Ticker”

Who’s job is just blood circulation,

It needs to be around always and everywhere

Else, we’ll be in need of resurrection

And, there’s the one called the Brain

Not really a friend of the “Ticker”,

Hypocritical, Arrogant, a living disgrace

Acts like a Loafer and, often, as a Vicar.

The hypocrisy within the Brain above

Is what we know as the deformed Ego,

Useful, in small measure for sure

But, not when it’s on the proverbial ‘Go’.

There is also the one called the Devil

The resident of the place termed Hell,

Where fires rage and smoke abounds

And, the rest is not worth the “tell”.

Mephistopheles, was a fallen angel

And so is the Devil within us ,

There’s a Saint that lives within each Sinner

Just riding a, differently, coloured bus.

So complex is both Body and Spirit

Two strangers in one frame,

Like the Candle and a roaring Fire

A gentle glow and the piercing flame.

‘Tis these lunatics that lead Man astray today

As we see in our world depravity supreme,

Are we living in a world named Catastrophe

Disaster and vices all on full display, a dream.

Have we given in to the weaknesses within us

Are we bent upon self- annihilation,

Must we all sit back and accept the goings-on

In the spirit of pure, unwanted, resignation ?

When It’s Time to Say Goodbye

To memories we cling

As they do often bring

The tears and joys

Of yesteryears

And, ’cause it never is easy

To be truly breezy

When it’s time to say

Goodbye.

We shiver in the cold

And lie in wait

For the warmth of a gentle

Summer

But, when it’s time for it to depart

And for the arrival of the snow

We think of the hearth

And the fireside glow

Then, the eyes get moist

And winter wants to know

Why we wish it to go,

We’re heavy of heart

As we see it depart

The winter now warm in memory,

It’s always the same

‘Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose’

The same good old story,

12 / The Show Must Go On

For, it’s never easy to say

Goodbye.

What’s true of seasons is true of life

When we look at warmth, then indifference,

We cry when we’re happy, we do when we’re sad

We speak some sense, then utter nonsense

’Cause, we’re sane and also mad

Colours we change, is that not strange?

Like the sides we take

And somersaults make

Moving from birth to its end,

Shake hands we do

Clasp them tightly

We hug one time and then, pretend

We don’t know who that was, who?

But, friend or foe, it’s a thing of the past

When it’s time to finally go

For nothing we know

Is meant to last

And, so

We’re ‘weepy’ and teary

The mouth all dry

When it’s time to say

Good bye.

Patterns



Creeping snows on hills and valleys

Dazzling colours of the Autumn,

Silence fills the air around

Man in awe and also solemn.

The searing heat of the mighty Orb

A thing now in forgotten territory,

Cooler, kinder, nicer strains

Unravelling, the Winter’s story.

Days, spent looking for the Sun

Evenings, by the fireside,

Embers glowing in the hearth

Time waits for no one, nor does Tide.

Lighting up a dampened spirit

Is the hope of an early Spring,

That which will, to a burdened heart

Some comfort and some joy, bring.

Seasons, too, a pattern follow

As does Life, its ups and downs

Smiles, precede and follow too

The creases and the, unwanted, frowns.

Level playing fields a mirage, truly

For, there is only the one Great Leveller,

And mortality is not known for its chivalry

It's each one's track, each one the runner

So, choose the pace that suits you best

Score the goals that you wish to,

It’s your life, your exam, your test

And, it's all up to You.

The Heaven in my Heart

There’s a little heaven in my heart tonight,

Holding up a candle light,

An all night vigil for me alone,

To quietly pray and to sins atone.

There’s a little heaven in my heart tonight,

That takes the dark away from sight,

For me to see what lies ahead,

For me to know what heaven said.

There’s a little heaven in my heart tonight,

There to protect me with all its might,

From the other me that resides with in,

The devil’s friend or the devil’s kin.

There’s a little heaven in my heart tonight,

I’m glad I found it, I can contrite,

I’ll delve inside my heart and see,

The real face of the real me.

of  Ashok Sawhny and cannot be used in any way without the written permission of the author Ashok Sawhny. Having said that, The author is always open to proposals and can be contacted via www.ashoksawhny.com