A Pledge

Last night I visited the ground zero of the 20th century graveyard
In the East there was Mephistopheles with heartache and darkness
In the West Lucifer stood smiling with arson and a loss of God.
While I stood between them I took a pledge for the price of soul and sleep.
That I would be tolerant like my illegitimate society

I took a pledge
That I would be tolerant towards all the diabo...lic ruling party mobsters
Who, every Sunday fill their empty bottles of stolen Scotch with the defeated blood
Of all those martyrs who stood in their pathway of greed and grotesque.
I decided I won’t take notice.

I took a pledge
That I would be tolerant towards the violent capitalist hunger
That had burnt Hiroshima and Nagasaki for the last hundred years
And which is still burning at schools and play grounds at Iraq, Afghanistan and Chile.
I would rather visit Starbucks to watch the NBA.

I took a pledge
That I would solemnly accept my children dying of thirst
In unfortunate villages where the cruel Cola army have usurped their waters
To be sold at foxy Supermarkets to Silicon breasted socialites.
I would escort them to the parking lot with a smile.

I made a promise
To Picasso, Ghatak, Antonionni, Blake and Sunilda
That I would sincerely relish the defunct display
Of the cross dressed pantomime and the graceless electronic diva every day.
For it is never art if it’s not on Page 3.

I made a pact
With the devil and the deep sea under a pyre lights of Keoratala
That I would slow burn my morality at the altar of sin and satisfaction.
I would even send Postcards to all vile real estate hustlers every winter.
My mother and memory have died long ago.

I took a vow
That I would not cry for me who have been dying since the last 20 years
I would rather celebrate my soulless existence for 40 odd years
And raise a toast to my socially successful friends for Health and Hypocrisy.
I would wear a suit stitched by some Italian school dropout.

I swear
I would refrain myself from painting pornography and philosophy on church walls.
“God is dead. Let us celebrate the death of God”. They said.
White house has published papers on the different shades of the blood
I would believe that their religious divide is my way to salvation.

I assured my beloved.
That I would not ever search for the scent of spring in her breasts.
I would not crave for any women who don’t wear Prada.
I would be satisfied with only the flab and flesh that she has on offer.
For I believe in social feminism.