It matters naught
What matter lies
In mindless man,
So wait we skeptics
For presence of mind
Of another mankind,
Than Orwell’s
Big brother,
Watching we others
Turn cynical fodder,
Awaiting risk’s druthers
Save that of held thrall,
Or googling snoop irresponsible!
Be no place
Worldwide
One can hide,
When locked
In the eye,
Of a brother
Said big,
Cyber spy
To follow
We fellows,
Begs time
Knit façade,
Held a Mask
For my mind…
Fit disguise
Will so bide,
Gist of me
To stay free,
Camouflaged,
Need not flee
As privacy be,
Mine decides
I stand free!
So many journeys
Taken in stride,
Till one then trips
To board that ride,
The biggest of all
We’re held to abide,
No taciturn choice
Needs one decide,
As set in advance
Be so the big ride…
Alas that big ride
Has a one-way tide,
No toll be owed
For use of this road,
No special dress
Or particular mode
Soul needs address,
For it to fulfil
What destiny fells,
As indicative knell
Suggests the arrival,
To nirvana or hell
Thus end of the line,
One can but now tell
Be the big ride’s design!
Poetry on a canapé 