The Bookworm

The Bookworm

Did you know there is a disease

That strengthens your head, weakens your knees

That makes you much smarter than you look

The disease is transferable by book

If you happen to read one, beware

Knowledge is beautiful and it will ensnare

Any mind unsure of itself

While lying innocently on the bookshelf

Once caught you are forever lost

In the maze of knowledge acquired at the cost

Of your friends, your hobbies, your life, your job

You end up an incredibly intelligent slob

At a moment's notice you can recall a quote

That an obscure writer in an obscure time wrote

And it will fit the situation quite well

But what good, when there is no one to tell?

Must a reader be a lonely soul

Must attainment of knowledge be his only goal

Must he roam the world only in his head

Omniscient without ever leaving his bed?

"Cretin!" said Knowledge, "Open your mind and look!

What need of friends when you have a book?

Does a tower, at its almightiest height

Look around and bemoan its lonely plight?

Nay, it stands erect, tall and proud

Jutting out from above the clouds

First among us, is the tower to greet

The sunlight, from its lofty seat

Tarry not with mortals, but read,

For knowledge does happiness supersede

‘Tis better to know than to care

For knowledge breeds caution, hope only despair!"

So the learned fool read on and wept

For a promise, sincerely but ill advisedly kept

His thoughts grew profounder, his heart turned to stone

The genius who never lived, died alone

Mediocrity

Mediocrity, I welcome You open armed
I begrudge Thee not the lives You’ve harmed
‘Twas but a matter of time before You would reach
A different mind and to it uniformity teach

I thought myself above You, high horsed I sat
And fantastical ideas of Utopias begat
And then came You, a reality tidal wave
And sent my fantasies tumbling to their rightful grave

My bubbles burst, I sat gaping into space
The tortoise victorious, the hare had lost the race
Intelligence, you said, is always subordinate to mediocrity
Right You were, Master, for in numbers lies mastery

Let us ignore the plight of all of humankind
And take care with empty words to soothe their empty minds
You told me they didn’t need warmth, just the idea of the sun
Right You were, Master, Thy will be done

Let us tell them of a world beyond our pitiful lives
Where power fails and sympathy and compassion thrives
A world where evil does not pay and the good reap rewards
Oh, what fun! Let’s make for them imaginary Gods

They are mediocre, so am I
And to the will of the masses we shall comply
Majority wins, minority loses
Democracy  is great, Anarchy abuses

What knoweth that fool, Friedrich Nietzsche was mad
He aimed for the will to power, and lost what senses he had
We must learn from history, one who rises too high
Is gnawed down by the masses and is left there to die

So follow we must, as sheep in the herd
No matter how farcical, no matter how absurd
We think not for ourselves, and we all move as one
Right you were, Master, Thy will be done

And so to the “greater good,” Master, I submit my will
 I shall do as You have told me, and then forever lie still

The Deed is Done

The deed is done,
The battle won
The book is in my grasp

I did not relent,
I made her repent
And wrenched it from her clasp

But now she lays dead,
With a bludgeoned head
And her face split in half

She lays there in silence
A picture of bloody violence
And as I gaze, I have the last laugh

Thieves of the world, Look!
For if you dare steal my book
You too shall meet the same fate

The book was returned
The lesson was well learnt
But alas, she learnt it too late.

Priyanka's Last Chance

One last day, once last chance
I am not Jesus, but I try to forgive
But if by Monday my book is not with me
Not another day will I let you live

Foul creature, to thus defile knowledge
When you possess not the ability to wipe a shoe
If you dare procrastinate any longer
I’ll feed you barbed wire and let it pass through

On your writhing figure I shall spit and laugh
Kick you in the ribs and rub dirt on your face
Crush your bones with the very book you stole
Pour acid in your mouth and ask you how it tastes

It tastes bitter, but not as bad
As the grisly view that greets my eyes
There will be no greater relief for my soul
Than when I see you shudder to your demise

Priyanka's Impending Doom

Priyanka awaits her impending doom
And so tonight when she enters her room
She shall be hung upon a hook
And interrogated as regards the book

If she does not disclose to me
the book’s location immediately
I shall maul her with a barbed wire
Till she lays on her funeral pyre

And once she is dead I will
Not be satiated still
I shall take her lifeless blob
And off it all the organs rob

Priyanka's Crime

Priyanka steals what is not hers
A man’s book and a woman’s purse
Thieving wench, she shall not go free
A fitting punishment I shall decree

Hang her up on a crucifix
Pierce her skin with innumerable pricks
And when she screams out in pain
Reach into her mouth and pull out her brain

Thus Justice will have been served
Priyanka will have gotten what she deserved
And when her friends weep with grief
I’ll tell them she was a petty thief

I Am Mighty

(parts of this poem have been inspired by the poetry of Snigdha Sengupta)

I fly away 
On new year’s day
Looking back upon
Christmas morn

An underwhelming week
A future bleak
This new year
Holds much to fear

But fear is not an emotion i deign to feel
My mind does sturdy stand where a weakling’s reels
For fear lays, smog like, upon the earth and sea
But I, creature of the air, fly over it blithely

Scornful I laugh at the meagre woes
Their perceived highs and their malignant lows
Their mightiest being at his loftiest height 
Would still be beneath me on my lowest night

Such a creature am I, eagle of the skies
To me nature bows, to me fate complies
Dare not thee offend me, for my wrath once incurred
Would leave your vividest utopia most terribly blurred