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Mr. Wiseman held the Cup
But it did not win his favour;
He winced and grimaced, frowned and scowled,
Repelled sorely by its odious flavour.
Legatee of a hoary, rambling Ape
(Charles Darwin averred) was he.
Fossils, on the contrary, hinted at
A legged-fish ancestor, out of the sea.
They thought him noble, faultless and bright,
Built and led by powers ultra-wise.
Freud, though, said N-o-o-o and posited Id,
A blind fish deep in a sea of sighs.
Harried by soul-searing angst and pain
H.S. quaffed to dregs, full many a vial;
His heart for ever rings the wrong number;
He has forgotten how to dial.
World is propelled by wayward whims
The Tribe is troubled and conflict-riven;
Decreed luckily, by Seer Arthur C.
Family is united, satellite-driven.
Irked by his greedy ecological crimes,
Polar caps melt, in an icy rage,
Drowning the lands of the warming globe,
Ushering, if unheeded, a demolishing age.
A hate- spawned mushroomy, Nuclear puff
Could soon wipe out Mr.Wiseman’s race.
But Hope stirs, with water on the moon;
His progeny may people the outer space.
Kalakeeerthi Edwin Ariyadasa,
written on his 87th birthday
(Thursday) |
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