Learning a New Language

Infants are immersed in a language soup, hear 17,000 words a day.

They coo and babble and blow raspberries, before mama and dada they say.   

As toddlers they test boundaries, make words like Goed that may not fly,

It's easy for them to grasp words and accent, they experiment, are not shy.

 

To wax eloquent in a new language, as an adult seems an uphill task,

But with a mature brain and a mastered language, scaffolding on it is an easy ask.

Language is more than words and fluency, it's metaphors that are not literally true, 

While a child may struggle with the similes, you can grasp idioms and humor too.

 

He who has a why can learn any how, this maxim in all languages rings true,

Just connect deeply with the people and culture, and you'll pick nuances in a days few.

Don't learn a dialect just to fit in, but to appreciate in original the poems and plays,  

You may not be able to mimic the native accent, but you'll not express fluently, who says. 

 

People learn French, German and Spanish, their sights set on greener lands,

It's time we pick Greek and Sanskrit instead, for non-pragmatic, aesthetic ends.

Such A Lovely Place

The gilded cage of the job, I feel safe in my captivity,

Can't call this place a jungle, it's a concrete zoo, this city.

We live side by side, but there's an unbearable chasm,

To be shunted between cages, somehow fills me with enthusiasm.

 

New inmates to discover, to observe from afar,

Commuting long distances, strapped solo in a car.

Arriving late for a corner office, a cubicle I can call home,

Coffee machines and cafe within reach—to eat, drink and roam.   

 

Some lock you in with a sauna, others restrain with a bond,

Some make your enclosures big enough, to make room for a pond.

All rooms belong to the Hotel California, between rooms you can switch,

If you check-in once, you're set for life, you'll feel welcome and rich.

 

I thought I had cashed out, had escaped from this zoo,

Only to wake up in a jungle, hunting for a haven anew.

Hope is The Thing at The Next Bend

You can latch onto the hard numbers, the odds that are bleak,

Or hang onto the lifeline, that at the next bend light will leak.

Both approaches will drown you, one from a broken heart,

The other from discouragement, neither understands hope is an art.

 

To survive you need to imagine, the shore in your mind,

It's better to be driven by a mirage, than to keep swimming blind.

But if you visualize the shore, on the very next bend,

The spurt will be exhausting, and you'll die before reaching the end.

 

Better to wear underwater goggles, the journey is a hundred miles,

The odds are one in a million, and there are likely a thousand trials.

Accepting the grim reality, will help you maintain pace,

You'll swim to finish the marathon, not sprint to win the race.

 

I can reach the shore for sure, just let me hallucinate,

If I'm exhausted, let me conjure anew, don't leave it to fate.

The Just World Hypothesis

I've been hearing since the womb, that the world is just,

We are elemental beings, and will be reduced to dust.

Our interactions are constrained, by Newton's third law,

If we don't suffer for our sins, there's perhaps a glitch or flaw.

 

I'm in chains without reason, the world is not just,

I happily share my last morsel, but others break my trust.

While I'm starving, they're feasting, the world looks cruel,

This inferno is dark and conspiring—they constantly add fuel.  

 

Whether I end up suffering or you, the world is indifferent,

It's a throw of the dice, if it's not us then someone different.

No matter how the die lands, the pain is but a given,

When there's no perpetrator, how can randomness be forgiven?

 

I can't live with this bleak worldview, I need my just world back, 

I'll gladly suffer for my past life sins, if in this world sins I did lack.

Transcending Facticity

Lines of code that used to dance, can't land me a job now,

Lines of verse have me in a grip, daily lead to feelings of wow.

Lines of faces I can read, without a degree it's of no use,

None can earn me my daily bread, this fact I can't refuse. 

 

Vibing is the new trend, I can generate code with ease,

If sonnets are out of fashion, with free verse try to please.

I can write a book on emotions, seal my implicit authority,

The possibilities are endless, I just need to display audacity.

 

The cold facts are given, the warm transcendence yet to come,

I live in perpetual bad faith, if I give credence to only one.

The future is not yet certain, the past doesn't dictate,

I have freedom to choose my cross, not bound to my fate.

 

I don't need to blame Freud or my upbringing, for choosing the cross,

That I can Houdini out of my crucifixion, is a possibility I can't gloss.

Thanks For The Tea

The monk sips the morning tea, thanking each leaf,

Drowning in the taste and aroma, of that moment brief.

The mind remains focused, the world stands still,

To experience that rapture, I'll gladly die or kill.

 

Dengue bit me hard, I almost rented the death bed,

Crawling my way out, I am now out of zone red.

A warm cup of tea, now tastes of pure bliss,

Once I get on with my life, this feeling I'll miss.

 

You may serve me exotic Matcha, but if my mind is elsewhere,

I will miss the elegant Sado, a ceremony both ordinary and rare.

Anything can become transcendent, if a moment you can spare,

But as the poet laments, where's the time to stand and stare.

 

I write for you daily, mine is an ordinary craft,

Would you recognize, in your busyness, if it were indeed high art?

Finding Meaning

Holding a job is not enough, is it another rung up the ladder?

If it makes you sleep well at night, so much so the better.

Preventing suicides is a calling, working in mental health tech a mere job,

Work is where your life gets spent, so don't let it of you meaning rob.

 

Holding a marriage is not enough, you need to master deep love,

Be a best friend, in-house therapist, a romantic partner, all above.

Co-parenting keeps you glued, you're bonded for seven lives,

Marriage is the meaningful thread, that tethers husbands and wives.

 

Love and work, work and love, that's all there is,

To find meaning in these, is to discover eternal bliss.

Spread your eggs across baskets, spend time on hobbies too,

The more friends you have beyond marriage, the better it will do.

 

You ask in your work and love, can you discover the meaning of life?

A better question—what meaning you allow, to your work and wife?