My Poems

I Am Insured  Sonnet 192 I am insured, at last, and my insurance For life now delivers my death a 

MONEY Sonnet 191 Money. Whoever knows not this quintessence Of life; like water, air, and light, that it Occasions life's survival, growth; and hence No soul -- be a master, monk or man of merit -- Can escape the grip of death the moment They are deprived of it? But life's this key, Unlike the Nature's divine gifts, is bent Over the barter betn you, they and me, And holds the give-receive-and-live foundation For the existence of the human species. But this money, which's our own creation, Has fallen prey to avarice, hoards, abuses, Blunting the fabric of our living system -- A suicide pact by choking the breathing medium. ©️ N P Samal

ROBOTS Sonnet 190 Robots are rising. With the wings of AI, They are soaring into the vast expanse Of human life -- how humans live and die -- Rewiring the planet-old Designer's plans, As begins the human transformation -- From organic beings to inorganisms -- By dint of manufactured evolution. Oh cynics, throw away all cynicisms! Robots ain't made to do us any harm, But like designer cells of humanity Will redesign our body and rearm Us 'gainst diseases, pains, and mortality. To put decay and death fore'er away, RobotAIzation is the only way. ©️ N P Samal 

Two Hundred Sonnet 189 I am writing sonnets. Fifteen more, I will attain the summit of two hundred And gift our country a sonneteering lore That's never in the country been recounted. But I have slow'd down, neath the leaden pressure Of aging, ailings, wants that tires my body, As each step uphill is taking longer And for balance I am fighting shaky. Yet I won't settle now , though my collection Has crossed the Bard's one fifty four and left Some of other greats behind. The fashion Of two hundred's struck, will be well cheffed -- A record for my fellow bards to break: A vying I'll enjoy if death doesn't wreck. ©️ N P Samal

Acid Sonnet 188 Beauty is lost! Acid has burnt the face And made the woman ugly, scary forever. Is there an answer with the human race: Will her fate again to gayness alter? She has been forced a living worse than death, And her rewarded plight is she can't die; Beneath her crimped skin is strain'd each breath, Each beat, and she can neither smile nor cry. And there are many a woman of such fate, Surviving with the pain of the mortal wound Acid has wreak'd on them; but limp's the state, Blind its frolicking men who feel are booned. Whoe'er are there to counter for a change,  As pours on more the liquid of revenge? ©️ N P Samal 

 Twenty Fifty  Sonnet 187 Sapiens are closing in on twenty fifty, But know not what the year has kept for them; In their mind the ephemera's nest of history, So they can't see eternity's landing emblem; Nor can hear the brain's untold prediction,  That life'll fore'er be rid of the grip of death. Oh, wake up for the deathless New Creation, To say goodbye to death  do hold the wreath! The elixir's coat on Earth the year will lay, Whereupon one once born will live forever; The men of science are working night and day,  To create the world's supremest wonder. Just stay safe till the emergence of the Fountain; If you haven't died, you WILL be young again. ©️ N P Samal