When words move out of their homes
And emerge like stubble, all prickly
It is time to shave them off
We carve our future with a dose of ambitions
But sometimes the cravings get out of hand,
Boisterous. It is then time to take the whip out.
A stubble can be boisterous but not a gangster
Nor does it crave for the murderous thrill of a gang-rape.
Yet we happily shave off stubbles and rejoice.
Where reason fails and entreaties are trampled
Throw desires out to crave until they agree
To return at your terms. Strengthen the social fabric.
Why can’t the evil within us be a mere stubble
And go away, disappear when a razor appears
To swish over it to whisk it away?
We know stubbles appear again and again
So does evil. So does the razor and so does
Public outcry when a wrong is done.
Stubbles and crimes are poems on the edge of reason
Where a step beyond can obliterate
And a step inside can fade the edge away!
07 January 2013