Why do I love Okra?
It is mucous and sticks in my craw
To tell the truth.
Why do I still eat it sautéed?
I ate my first helping
While on my mother’s lap,
I cried all my four years’ worth
But thought I never had it so
Good fed by my mother.
Past my prime I still eat
Okra that sticks in my craw-
For it is not mucous but a lump
Of memory and it fights for
Posted in poetry | Tagged Benny Thomas, food, memory of first taste, personal poetry, poetry | 3 Comments »
Mulla one morning came across an ice-vendor who said, ’Nasruddin, here is the father of all ice. Straight from the mountain.’
‘Give me his son.’ He took a chunk in his box and said ‘hush lil baby I’m gonna eat you.’ Paying the vendor he walked off.
He went to Hamam. After a steam bath he felt thirsty. Under the shade of a tree he sat. ‘It is time I heard some baby-talk.’ He opened the box and poured the water down his throat,’gurgle, gurgle.’
With satisfaction he stood up to tell the standers-by, ‘I knew his grand father.’
They laughed indicating the mulla was a bit mad.
Then came hailstones and Mulla lifted his eyes to ask,’ Does your grandfather let you play outside at all hours?’
Posted in humor | Tagged Benny Thomas, Mulla Nasruddin Tales, Mulla tales, Pleasantries of Mulla Nasruddin | Leave a Comment »
I would rather be a splinter of dust
Hurtling through space and time
Than an opinion settled and grown
In the mind of men -they call it god’s truth
And mow down God’s children left and right.
In motion was passage of light
But too soon I am snuffed out by cold breath
Of earth grown settled in ways.
Rather than this corruption
I would rather be dust, -not knowing
its station nor its destination,
It blows hither and thither
And pass from wakeful sleep to dream.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Benny Thomas, cold, free verse, habits, light, poetry, regeneration | 4 Comments »