My Friend, Grimmy.

by Brihintha Burggee

Omnipresent in this ocean of impurity,
your justice lurks,
Great judge of deeds, you who
reap the curse of Man
As each grain of sand slips,
through the tunnel of darkness
Of your rusty hourglass.

I trace my red colored crayon
on the picture of this fascinating
Life-taking creature,
painting horns and a broken tooth to it.
I'll share your black cape
for Halloween and we'll
frighten the old hag next door with your
skeletal-like, most fascinating mask.

We shall play in the soil with your
scythe, pretending that we're Samurais
of death. We'll be the coolest kids
in my colony and our toys,
the envy of all.

I'll be Père Fouras with
your hourglass, boasting on my skills
of riddles, cheating on Time as you do
and allowing no second chances.
Every step with you will be
an adventurous quest.

I've got a sweet tongue
in my mind's heart that keeps on flattering
your precious self, Grimmy.
I'm ready to be your friend,
Only if you promise to be
kinder than usual.

Blind Religion

by Brihintha Burggee

Adorned in the shroud of a dead husband,
She dances in vermillion
each night, surrendering to the
Devil and his lemons, to
revive my dead uncle.
As if dolls and pins and charlatans in
shreds and patches could stitch the dead again!

The smoke of religious fanaticism
permeates the air, then my lungs,
threatening to engulf me in
corrupt and nefarious myths.
She seeks and abides by all
kinds of phony priests to ensure
peace to a lost and undeserving soul.

Eating my Biryani, mixing it
again with chutney - my only
purpose to attend these hypocritical rites
as a means to useless ends -
I welcome the scented smoke,
lifting my nose up, defying the archaic and
distorted beliefs of my roots.
I refuse to belong to any of them.