Zebra-Race In Plastic City: A Ballad Of Modern Times Poem by Harindhar Reddy

Part I: Ode to Uselessness

Zebra race flashes back to the bronze-era: on the site
Crete, in 1600 BC Minoan culture reached its height,
Minos, son of Zeus, Cretan king ordered Daedalus
to invent dotty-batty labyrinth so Did he......
yet himself devised wings and escaped with his son
Icarus - Minos became don of Hades when death raided.

Donkey's race was set in a myth: Heroics of Theseus,
the king of Athens defeated united Attica and Amazons
Also he killed Procrustes, and Minotaur: a murderous
Monster with Bull's head and man's bod troubled sons
Of peoples and trees of apples - what if in Ragnarok
he saw end of the gods in a battle with evil, shock-mock!


Part II: Life ran out of Fuel
Oh my breath caught in my throat!
See, my heart stumbled over its beat
By a route four obscure evils fared skillfully:
conquest rides a white horse; war a red horse;
famine a black horse; plague a pale horse -
They haunted me till I headed for Himalayas hilly
and then reached an ultimate dim Thule
Out of space and time and life ran out of fuel.

unfathomable vales and sempiternal floods,
And chasms, and spelunks, and titanic woods,
lakes infinitely outspread with their lone waters silly,
still and dead chilly with the snows of the lolling lily.
of which no human can discover
For which the tears that drip all over;


Part III: Am I living? What if I'm still dying.....?
One more day I can't wait to fly….
In the mean time sadness goes by….
So break my heart, oh Yama!
And look into my eyes, aye Mama
you can see what can't be seen and more….
Lo! These brick walls roar……

Part IV: Rat Race in the Plastic City
A fellow old geezer Vs little boy Little Lord Fauntleroy
in a blabbermouthed battle on a fishing ferry:
one speaks of the past, the other of the future, eerie.
Now a fish gave them a miss both realized life is fake.
In the plastic city many rats are in the race:
An endless, self-defeating, or pointless pursuit, your face!
Ultimately achieve nothing either collectively or individually, hi!
Bugged by the monotony man begs sun and moon to escape,
runs in a wheel around a maze with futile efforts, he, an ape.

Part V - No Name
Many years ago man was a simple chick
He worked as rock yet his life was clear as hick
Life ran merrily as sparkling water of Ganges led
honey and sweetness met as Rama and Sita wed.

All this, a wonder long before this sad-mad life
with its aims biramous branches, ears tobacco pipes,
hearts rustic boxes, heads over-rated types,
mouths dilapidated drums, altogether man isn't ripe


Sing a song of modern times with Gilbertian flute:
Most men whirligig in the current tout de suite:
eat and drink, sleep and sink and draws a flock
They are raised but hurl in the dust, striving blindly
Achieving nothing, they die and perish foolishly.

Reading men is opening the keyless lock
and their ideals is brainsick, they use idle words,
nothing left but the sound of someone's cries
in the rain drops with selfsame confused swords
as modern days are different as jasmines and lilies
It is an age of machines in every outward and
inward sense of that word, a pot of vagueness,
tendency to disregard reality, heart of indefiniteness.

Part VI: I ring-around-a-rosy to bring a posy
gorgonzola jumbo-jet le Fay's out-and-out
in fata morgana but worst is I have lost
a part of my orchard and garden in a witch
hunt for a punter - Perhaps, blindly
and bluntly hunt ever you know, almost a zigzag
wigwag chase in chiller-thriller, Thrill-thrall!

through daedal intricate emotions
and sky's frenzy commotion, Mephistophelian
spirits rejoiced scurrying-hurrying as my driver lost license and balance losing innocence;
debarring everything and debating for nothing
what I wanted to see, forgetting he-huckleberry,
I ring-around-a-rosy to bring a posy

Muck-amuck mucopolysaccharidosis killed mugwump, now I'm lost amid a forest of fears,
fountain of tears in the San Joaquin Valley
dilly-dally or shilly-shally perhaps my search
has come to stall, a cockamamie merry Andrew; I ring-around-a-rosy to bring a posy

I can no longer pretend even if get an Oskar
The better solution is take as I'm, for a seeker in search of love, or spiritual quest after going through a maze of jamais vu and tohubohu
the sought is finally discovered in hidden
self made burrow, a catacomb I ring-around-a-rosy to bring a posy