dear brother

faced with heroism on one hand
cowardice staring at you on the other
you fell into the arms of villainy
brother you are on the dung heap of history

we waited with bated breath
for we thought you were the mid wife
there would be much ululation and whistling
the mid wife then became the murderer

brother, you chose not to be a warrior
could not resist the allure of trinkets
you have lots of company in villainy
these are memories of a miscarried era

strip tease

when the light comes on suddenly
into the crevices the cockroaches go
leaving the feasting on the crumbs
the love for darkness is exhibited

suddenly night turns into day
many hide the nudity with leaves
those were the first clothes in the garden
trying in vain to flee from ourselves

now they seek to dim the light
am too tired of this monotonous script
stripping away the cloak of falsehoods
the light now shines in the crevices

the first stone

they turned and walked away
walked away shame faced
their holier than thou stance
crumbled like a straw hut
engulfed by a fiery inferno
stung by wasps of imperfection
not one could throw a stone

today i stand condemned
let the perfect one throw a stone
like in those days of old
they walk away shame faced
that is the start of introspection
their minds befuddled by that wisdom

doubting thomas

subjected to too much evil
at the hands of fellow human beings
holding onto socratic scepticism
tortured still for this approach
undaunted i move on still

not a saint at all
that is the root of this doubt
been a victim of terror tactics
forgive me for espousing this doubt
maybe doubting thomas was not wrong