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 colorful pigments of sin  
colorful pigments of sin
all around,
brilliant colorful resins
of unpardonable sins.
all scented with costly sandalwood
sanctimoniously cut preserved by
all the involved
and brought up to the sacred feet
of the Devil Goddess
heaped in flowers, bright colorful flowers
of horrible sins, concealed as daily chores.
The sins of Ego
bloated ego
blinding us;
its brilliance hurts my retina.

Truths are bitter.
Since the days of Christ
and crucifixion.
outside on the rickshaw
the emaciated frame crouches
on the rickshaw
waiting for,
his master to fill his stomach.
with money earned through
colorful resins of sin.
mosaics of sins of daily living.
own eyes washed out
own ears washed out
brain half sold, half pledged,
half pawned,
the owner of the soul despises
the gods of creation by
wanting to go to heaven ;
yes, heaven, nothing short of heaven !
and he is promised entry into heaven
in the gathering here of all.
promised by whom ?
the rickshaw man goes surely goes to heaven
his eyes ears soul is with him
he sees clearly
nothing disturbs his vision of reality
no not, the resins of sin and ego.
There is no noise of panic hurried prayers.
There is no explosion of fragrance
and colours.
There is silence of reality.
In it he sits as does the cuckoo
on the high tree twigs.

d.parameswaran  02-07



   The Population Poem////                            APPLEHEART

Wherever they saw it,                          once apple

The people dropped it,                       met the atom bomb,

Thinking that                                         the new apple of mankind.

Is against children                                    the atom bomb said

Flew our of windows                                   to the apple;

Of homes, schools, churches,                      in less than  moment.

Cars, Libraries, and Govt. offices.                 I can wrap up your life

Some burnt it secretly                         the atom bomb

Not wishing to see                               I can reduce the thirst

Even traces of it.                                 And hunger of man

People grew without                         for more than several

Reading it and survival                         moments.

Was difficult                                           I can yield for generation

Also for the poem;                                  I have seeds.



 You walked in


what's a poem doing in the kitchen?


one day in our lifetime

I am becoming a poem,                     

we'll all know

a man unbecoming.                          

how closely related

like a poem                                        

we were all .

I must lose life 

to each other.

like a song                                         

till then

I must lose life                                 

we'll fight & kill

like a song                                         

as many in our wars

I must spread in the air.                   

so that not many

like a word                                       

will have that day.

I must pass thru your lips.


  ( care typographic error: read follg two poems
left and right separately
.... takes time to correct.    ---.DP)


touch me without my asking                             god next time

the barber & the photographer                  you roast a chicken

I hate the camera eye                                for your housewife

cause he stares me in the eye                      roast me too.

and asks me do the same                          each day here

I love the barber's eye                          I'll be good to her teeth.

picking one or two grey hairs                     each day here

from my head                                           i am putting my hand

he lets me fall aslepp.                               into a jackpot

later, shaking my shirt                       and pulling our

he says thank you come again                 a hair

                                                              and I am seeing

                                                           God's sunshine

                                                 in my poor brother's  eyes.

 2 poems below -----

Plants and trees                                              Not for the sea.

fought to see the sun,                                      Not for the sealife

and the skyscrapers won .                         Sealaws, for man.


Man made freedom his own.  but he never knew/with it,
all his miseries his own. 




                                                                 man reproduced


man designed his freedom                              within four strong walls.

disturbing the design of nature.                             within four strong walls.

                                                                                             all others were limited

freedom freedom freedom.                                                      in number by nature's own hands.

man fought for it,  killed his own men and enemy's,

and marketed so efficiently,

plotted bombed to get it.   


                                 THE ZOO

freedom freedom freedom.

nature's other children.                            at the zoo

they brought it with their life.               the animals parade,

and when they lost it                              all of them,

they never fought for it,                          one by one.

plotted or bombed to get it.                    for man, to see.

                                                                 a thousand eyes watch them



MAN NOW                         


                                                                      a thousand eye watch them

                                                                   watching a thousand

the ground which bore me                       scenes of nature.

now bears my feet                                   wittily grows the great great

 and my head always                             inventions of the mind.

keeps high in the sky,                                and side by side

                                                                  unwittily and quietly

                                                          grows the unwieldy weeds

                                                            of Destruction.





 Man has lost much of his sanity

by mostly believing in false and hollow things.

By celebrating a wrong feeling, a wrong thought

which grew later into a wrong faith,

he has smeared his views and blinded himself.

No doubt he has defended evil concepts

and straight away embraced the darkness of the evil.

what is evil, is merely what is of no use to earth

What is evil, has no power or force of its own.

It is men like you and me who give it help to stand up.

We feed it with energy and we fight for it.

We do it because we are ignorant of it.

We do it because we think it benefits us much,

Not caring to know whether it hurts others or the earth.

Nodoubt there is benefit, instant and physically felt,

That accrues from the evil.

But it really is forsaking a chance for eternity

By opting for a transitory bliss.

It is like sex without live.

It cannot last long.

Because you have pledged your immortality

For a mortal and flimsy momentary joy.

Once your thought or action jeopardizes the earth,

The nation, or the society or merely an ignorant or

Innocent fellow human being,

you will be injuring your own future life.


Evil is merely a weed that grows in the farm or garden,

In your heart or mind, as an instinct or thought,

In your intellect or soul as concept or faith,

In the society or nation as an anti – element.

You must stop its growth wherever it grows.

If you fail, your future will fail you.

You are related to your future distant or nearer.

This cleansing process is everyone’s responsibility.

One who fails in it, betrays creation’s intention.

The power to preserve is uniquely man’s.

Preserve congenial things to life of the earth.

It is not difficult to discriminate the good from the bad.

Keep sharp reason to cut the weed.

Keep true love to promote the good.

And use your faculties of the self

For improving the common good for all.


 July 4th 

  for the bird, up in the sky, swimming in the air.

  for the sun or for the moon staying close together with the earth.

July 4th

 for the squirrel up on the tree up by a flight of stairs, up & home.

July 4th 

 Is for the wind showering her love upon my face. 

and for the wind flowing into the valley fresh and cool,

and pervading my senses.

July 4th

  I lie imprisoned, by the walls of avarice and greed. 

The walls of many doors and locks of the human self's

 only I am aware of the conflict.  

July 4th

  I Lie Imprisoned. 

July 4th I see outside

  The monkey, and dinosaur, and every beast say July 4th.

"don't touch me" says a girl - culprit, to a cop. 

don't ask for my card, this is a country of liberty".

July 4th

 never lasts more than a few moments of vision, for me. 

My spirit unassailed,

I wait for its permanence. 

July 4th,

for a second, I see  god's face appear,

but then, soon I see

the permanent human faces of greed and avarice. 

The usual, the familiar, the ugly only remain

 left with me.  

July 4th

up in the sky, as a star.

We, are, on waters. 

At sea.

Some on land,

some trying to fly. 

miseries still unsaid.

July 4th



- D.Parameswaran, 56 yrs, male, awarded poet, yoga propagandist,  INDIA

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