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It’ll burn my fat
Like fuel, like gas.
My va-va-voom[5 - va-va-voom —the quality of being exciting, attractive, or full of energy]
Will see its doom.
I’m cursed to think.
You’re cursed to think.
Parvez Kumar
THE BEAR AND THE BEES
Buzz buzz, the bees cried.
Buzz buzz, some bees died.
Buzz buzz, he took it all.
Buzz buzz, many years we spent,
Buzz buzz, waste they went?
Buzz buzz, what a horrible fall!
Buzz buzz, our honey and hive!
Buzz buzz, only some are alive.
Buzz buzz, he had no mercy.
Buzz buzz, how weak we are!
Buzz buzz, helpless so far.
Buzz buzz, back he will be.
Buzz buzz, let’s leave this land!
Bizz bizz, let’s fight his hand!
Buzz buzz, but we will die.
Bizz bizz, kids will be alive.
Bizz bizz, with new honey & hive.
Bizz bizz, nobody will cry.
Buzz buzz, we will push back.
Buzz buzz, we’ll fight him back.
Buzz buzz, so let us fly!
Parvez Kumar
|| BHARATA ||
I’m sorry to have overslept; || Bha ||
For the words, I haven’t kept, || ra ||
For the grieves, you have wept. || ta ||
Anymore, I won’t let you bleed. || Bha ||
Off shore, gonna kick the seed || ra ||
Of so called secular breed. || ta ||
The names are back which were erased || Bha ||
By some historians with certain craze || ra ||
For licking the feet of some angrez[6 - Angrez – an English person (Indian English)]. || ta ||[7 - || Bharata || – India (in Sanskrit)]
Parvez Kumar
FUNGUS
Fungus here and fungus there:
Driving a car,
Smoking a cigar,
Running a nation, —
Losing patience,—
Fighting a war,
Banging a whore;
Writing this rhyme,—
Committing a crime;—
Fungus, damn, is everywhere.
Fungus is born, fungus is grown,
Without any maker of its own.
There’s the Maker, fungus believes.
Vital life is as it seems.
Parvez Kumar
BLANK PAPER
How beautiful and clean
This blank paper has been!
Full of purity and youth
Among people uncouth!
The ink of freedom, the ink of wisdom
Is all around our solar system;
But worthy pens are out of stock,—
As budget ones are in a flock.—
Thus carnage & lust stretch their feet
Across the virgin teenage sheet.
The pen of flute, the pen of bow,
Hand in hand, must equally go.
Parvez Kumar
MY LOVE
My love is an idiot;
To be the one is fashionable now,
And proud to be hideous
To cosset some handicap clowns.
My love is dark today;
To be the one is profitable now,
Victim card[8 - victim card – a pretense of suffering and hurt, a show off of fake pain] he’s got, to play
And make the mess in usual towns.
My love is gonna be
An innocent refugee,
For houses, sex and money;
Free of cost, full is tummy.
My love is an endless pretender
With foxy and flexible gender.
Parvez Kumar
