The Cardinal Sin

For they have eyes yet seldom see,
For they have ears yet seldom hear,
For the have hearts yet seldom feel,
For they have hands yet seldom act,
For all the cardinal sins upon this grave world,
The supreme sin is but this,

For they have minds they seldom think.



My First Poem


Guys! As you might have guessed it already, I am going to tell you the story of how I wrote my first poem. Technically it was not my first poem, in fact I am not sure how many poems I wrote before this one, but I am sure about one thing, they all s**ked! So my first poem … right!..
It was a winter morning, the class was shaking of the crispy snowflakes attached to the window railing, I was watching the pupil come in to the class one by one through the frosted window, wrestling the weather and dodging the snow balls…. Oh! Who am I Kidding, There was no snow, no snow flakes and it was a summer, a damn hot one too. And if these guys were wrestling and dodging anything they were the bullies and their unmerciful punches. I will just tell the dull story of my first poem and about the narrative I have been watching ‘How I met your Mother’ Damn… Good….
So as I said earlier, it was an average summer day in an average south Indian school, in an more than average neighborhood, in fact it was so average that the only neighbors we had were the unmistakably terribly old residential apartments and the crazy ole lady that lived in one of them, I will talk about her some other day, seriously guys I am jumping around a lot with this story. SO We had our English lecture for the first hour that day and my our lecturer  Mrs. (I don’t know a another very old lady, not crazy though) had asked us to write a poem and bring. Shall we call her Mrs. Lecturer? Okay! So as I said Mrs. Lecturer has asked us to bring about a poem. And to top it all up our poem would get read by a random person in the class.
So I had a buddy who used to sit next to me all the time and whom I particularly love because he used to be take the major share of the beating because he was a tiny bit fat a little slower than me. I just ran away and he got beaten up, I would come back a little later to check on him with a tissue. So as she had asked us to write a poem and so far (taking my friends account then), I s**ked at it. We had only hardly a few minutes left before she would pop up in the class and treat a bunch of 10 graders like kindergarteners and kick them around. We were scared of her, really SCARED! So as I said my friend who took the beating for me turned to me asked to write him a poem. Yeah! Sure! He always stuck out for me and I always let him down, but seriously guys! A poem in five minutes is hard enough, now I had to write two.
So anyway I decided to write two, two poems. And I have absolutely no idea what I wrote, But I wrote two poems. I have a bleak memory that one was about winter and life and the other was ‘The Poets’. The one about the winter was kind of nice, or so I thought, It was a very sophisticated piece of words with nice hard to guess words, you practically needed a dictionary to read that poem and the other was in simple terms, really simple. So Somehow I finished and I gave him the Poets and explained the meaning of the poem to him, Okay there was nothing to explain, It was something like ‘Poets are Crazy’ themed. But anyhow I really liked the winter poem and thought this will be my great break through, I could even imagine the whole class standing up in appreciation and giving a great ceremony in honour and all those things, the girls asking for autographs, Okay! I admit I was a bit carried away.
So all that was about to be crushed, pooh! She called out my friends name and he went in with a paper clutched to his hand, Oh I forgot she forgot to mix the papers between friends, she just asked us to read our poems. So as I said he went in and recited out ‘The Winter Poem’ and explained how crazy poets are. I don’t think anyone listened but Mrs. Lecturer, she threw him out and asked him to run around the school, the first he did happily and the second he did not do. So then I was left with the poem ‘ that I wrote for him, Nope I did not get a standing ovation, She said I could sit in the class, As if I wanted that but then that got me into poetry and I have did good since then.
Oh! this has nothing to do with the post, I just liked it. So….
SO guys! That the story of How I wrote my first poem, and for the guy! He kind of did not like me sitting and he being out, once the class was over he trashed me, and now I had Another Bully to dodge and I had no one to share a beating with till I met ‘Abby’, Oh! That’s one story that’s full of lies and even if you like this one or not, I am going to make you listen to that one too, watch me!
And if by any odd chance you liked this one, give a comment!

The castles of greed…



Stand they tall on the face,
Of all good and all that is moral.
Stand they with indiscriminate disrespect,
off all pride the papers bring
like the dead, they fear to feel,
Thinking in shades of darkness.
With no furore they break coffins,
Open the vaults of doom for pennies and dimes.
Heart they have lost to concrete jungle.
With life so fast they doth not think.
Like roaches they spread the streets,
Running blind and thoughtless.
Doom they bring upon them and all.
Heard of no responsibility but to churn gold.
A life of rot and no foresight,
Cards need not tell what tomorrow hosts.
Bring down the chapels of greed,
Bring down the priests with no mercy.
Let not our tomorrow be ruined at the hands,
Of creatures of vice, devils incarnate.
Bring them not to the gallows they made,
Lock them not behind the walls they build.
Bring them to light and bring them to love,
Bring them to the world they destroyed.
Strip them of the coats and medals
Strip of the evil instruments of deadly sins.
Change them, make them see,
Give them a chance to set it right.
They are lies and they are sly,
They can out do the chameleon with ease.
Trust them not till they act,
For greed is too evil to leave so soon.
The castles of greed, proud and tall.
The castles in nations of meniality.
Bring them down and set them right,
The beacon of a newer tomorrow.
          Rupertt Aryeen Wind