Expect Problems and Eat Them for Breakfast ~ Alfred A Montapert


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My Song

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Amidst the music of the days I was lost as a song And Life seemed to be awfully long Dancing to the tunes of the globe Thought I was being right always wrong And Life seemed to be awfully long Lost as a song.. Seeking shelter from the rain I missed the rainbow Closed the doors as joyous raindrops came knocking upto me The saplings climbed up on the staircase of the blue sky But the ladder of success was all that I could see On the rocky road I could have walked a mile In this bargain my friends I lost my smile In the music of life lost as a song Life seems to be awfully long.. In my canvas I painted myself black and white Day goes by and so does the night The sunlight blinds me now I can no longer see My shadow no longer walks with me Every night is a nightmare of mornings to come The clock ticks to remind me to be on the run In the music of life I want to sing my own song Something in me seems to be awfully wrong.. As I learn to dance to my tune Where the music be my own Let me fal...
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Cursed Apples

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 Once upon a time in the Garden of Eden there lived Adam and Eve in the shadow of an evil serpent, the evil in disguise whose jealousy introduced them to greed. Since our origin we have been breeding greed. As life began the wheel of greed turned to lead to the birth of more and more Homo sapiens day by day, every moment. The jealousy of the evil serpent remained veiled behind silence and formed the cause that sprouted as the sapling of greed in the heart of Eve. Greed is highly contagious like any other communicative disease and thereby spread to Adam and from then on wards to the generations that followed. Many a times greed gives rise to jealousy and quite often greed arises from jealousy. They both move on hand in hand as knives equally sharp and hurtful and are known to cause the death of many a conscience. The philosophy regarding the search for soul mates destined to meet is meant to adorn the parchments found at the back of the drawers of the poets but th...
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Who has the answer?

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Who has the answer? What is holy, what is not; Forgive me I know not. But, I see right from wrong. In either black or white, We do not belong. Neither are we brands to be labelled as a caste. Nor is body and face moulded or cast. Why does gender chalk out boundaries, Draw out birth and death? Strata decides cradle or filth, vanity or shame instead? Do we fit in the puzzle of the society, is the decision ever mine? Who is rightly empowered to decide where to draw the line?
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