A perpetual state of trauma

People Energy

In your society or high-class society or classless society,

of Industrial Civilisation, comprised of individuals,

as if no one is born of biological parents,

but everyone is a product of high-class-culture

of science–technology–trade–consumption,

laced with aesthetics of hedonism by your overbearing senses;

touch, hearing, taste, vision, smell, sex and terror (fear).

For you the rest of humanity just belongs to the Underclass Incognito.

And your high-class-culture (or dharma!) turns everything –

Earth, Waters, Air, Life at large… including Other Humans – into a commodity

for the consumption for your high-class-society,

and for the display extravagance of your high-class-culture.

Your high-class-culture developed (but never evolved?)

out of five thousand years of civilised society,

knows no option

either for the revival of Life,

which, of course, is not in your hands,

or you allow anyone or anything but a natural death,

but is left to live a life of an invalid,

by benevolently pumping drugs and chemicals

to leave a body —

from the Earth and Waters to Plants, Animals and Other Humans —

in a perpetual state of trauma.

Note: Sadly, fragmented split personality that I am, I address this to myself though a negligible fragment that I am of Industrial Civilisation. Originally published in blog ARCHETYPES INDIA

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© Remigius de Souza. all rights reserved.
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Tsunami! Tsunami!!

Up a hill a stream to low lands finds its way down
through the rocks, cliffs, rough land runs down!
Nectar of earth runs down! Dark clouds pour down!
Accumulated knowledge acquired from the banks

of knowledge wants to go up, builds vaults more,
acquires more by refining, by splitting hair,
fragments wholesome life; very little trickles down.
Some water goes up by capillary attraction

in a congenial body, some evaporates to cool,
a lot percolates in lower strata in soil, in a pool,
runs down to rivers, to ocean to sustain life all.

In Tsunami it lashes ashore and cleanses land,
in cosy igloo gives loving warmth and shelter.

Knowledge has to go down to the ignorant;
and the educated who move in their grooves
of expertise ignorant of vital other areas
of their personal and the collective living.

Floods, earthquakes, Tsunami shatter lives,
Yet leave behind vital lessons: To be reborn.

The meek build from the debris. Why harp on
the limitations rather than take charge of self,
when the nature in abundance is there to help?

Leave all the external aids that corrupt.
Or the silent multitude hit back in Tsunami.

There’s a scramble among the learned to go up,
up the economic ladder, keep their knowledge
mummified in the safe custody of the specialist.

Who’s that, who memorizes scriptures by-heart,
has ever received salvation, a liberated soul?
At any point of time – place is a starting point.

When it rains we rarely ‘look’ at it and feel:
It needs some animal sense, vegetable instinct
in the unified holistic life, and some honesty.

Remigius de Souza
Mumbai (23-02-2005)
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© Remigius de Souza. all rights reserved.

A Million Incarnations Now!:

A Million Incarnations Now::
Tribute to Peoples' Uprisings everywhere

'My Enemy Within Me'  by Remigius de Souza

A night of million Incarnations NOW
in millions - faces,
eyes, limbs, yonis, phalluses, 
tongues out hungry ? 
Now a million stars show  
The Way to million Incarnations imminent 

Wake up O, Ruler!  
For this dark night  
is of a million uprising  
of anonymous multitude  
A Million Incarnations Now
A million Incarnations!  

Remigius de Souza
Mumbai | 15-9-1987
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© Remigius de Souza. all rights reserved.

All Fool's Day

All Fool’s Day

Whatever may be, it’s my doing,
by choice or by force, that I forget;
my rush ends it in half-hearted doing
and in endless strife I am caught.


In my fear of loosing my doing
no moment spared to stop and look
from all sides around, inside out,
at all levels, in all dimensions:


much of it I am ignorant.
On the fast track of one dimension
never knew when I lost myself;
never realised I am the means;


and I am the end. A product, an idea,
a thought, an act, or a concept
in time is perishable and transient:
no sooner born belongs to the past.


In stagnant water all actions stink.
But waters of life are always flowing,
condensing, evaporating, raining,
reflecting; that’s the nature of water,


of life born in water, but not my doing.
In looking at doing, the doing ceases.
At the core of ocean prevails
Silence pregnant with new life.
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Remigius de Souza
(26 March 2004)




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© Remigius de Souza. all rights reserved.
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Tata's Nano car (Modern Haiku)

Tata's Nano car (Modern Haiku)

Behind your car
I am dragged –
fallen leaves.

(For a farmer even fallen leaves are precious. They burn them to keep warm. It is used as (compost) manure. But in modern India (call her Bharat or Hindustan) modern maharajas – the corporate – like Tatas – have emerged. What value do they have for - whether farmers or fallen leaves? Read more) (Translation by the author)
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पाचोळा ( आधुनिक हायकू)

तुझ्या मोटारीच्या मागे मागे
येई मी फ़रफ़टत ....
पाचोळा।

(शेताकरयाला पाचोळा फार मोलाचा असतो। त्याची शेकोटी होते। त्याचे शेतासाठी (कम्पोस्ट) खत होते। पण आधुनिक इन्डियात [वाटल्यास भारत म्हणा किंवा हिन्दुस्तान म्हणा] टाटा सारखे आधुनिक राजे महाराजे तयार झाले आहेत। शेतकरी की पाचोळा, त्यांची त्याना काय किंमत ? पुढे वाचा )
२४.८.२००८
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© Remigius de Souza. all rights reserved.
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