Pensioner’s notebook

When the  word comes, the idea’s genesis occurs
In the  deep night, when idea happens in our eyes
Open from sleep, having been quiet on sleep’s bed
Or in ghostly rapid eye moments of broken dreams.

 
Body is thought, on a wrinkled face, deep in poems,
Or on a furrowed brow, bearing daughters like Sita
Who are destined to suffer as wives for bigger glory.
Daughter has to prove her life and innocence by fire
All because she is someone’s wife in the deep jungle.

 
A pensioner’s notebook has to record his existence
He has to prove his aliveness to the birds in the tree.
The birds have to prove their aliveness on the wire.
They have to hold a daily parliament on T.V. cable.
So nobody will deny their existence in color plumes.

 
A pensioner has to prove his existence to the world
The world needs a viable proof of earthly existence.
A body or a signed paper is proof of yearly aliveness.
September poems are not recognized for the purpose.

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