The Net

July 1st, 1999 admin Posted in Poetry |

The spider’s spinning the webs of steel,
the nets that sieve every thought you think,
free air to breathe, freedom to feel,
only through a hole or a lucky kink.

the mesh gets finer, stronger and spread
the thoughts fight hard for a piece of sky,
narrow bits squeeze through, narrow things are said,
Truth is for the large at heart, survive with a lie.

The loose fine strings of a child’s gay mind
that God made for him to play a hearty tune,
by social spiders are twisted, woven and twined,
the evening pulls in before the sun’s attained noon.

Gasping for light and a little breathing space,
they talk of rationale, simplicity and heart,
the net closes in to snuffle in a million ways,
the spider kills you quick…
the end comes before the start.

Anil Krishna
July ’99