Shhhh…..don’t tell anyone, I love to throw dirt

ammasriram By ammasriram, 13th Feb 2017 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Health>Mind & Spirit>Positive Thinking

We are conditioned to freely and unthinkingly make fun of others, and we often make derogatory remarks, all (very conveniently) under the guise of jest and humor. Perhaps we need to rethink before we hit the "forward" button on some of the messages and jokes receive - not just on our phones, but in our lives.

Shhhh…..don’t tell anyone, I love to throw dirt

As a child I played in the dirt,
I picked up some mud and flung it on my friend.
My friend flung it on me, in glee,
When we went home, our mothers washed the dirt away.

When I grew older, my mother tried to wean me away from it,
Saying, it is not done my son, you must stay clean.
Alas, the habit was deeply ingrained in me,
Alas, it was an addiction that got the better of me.

Yet, the norms of my world were to be observed,
I could not be seen throwing mud and dirt as before,
So, I found a way to feed my addictive cravings.
One day, I was irked in my mind, when talking to my wife,
I churned my mind, with my thoughts and feelings of hurt,
And out came the dirt, but invisible at that.

I created thoughts and words of malice and spite on my wife,
Words of cowardice and impatience,
Words of sweeping generalizations and falsehood,
Words of insult and sarcasm,
Words of apparent injustice and indignation,
But nicely coated with the sweetness of jest and humor,
And shared them with my friend.

If my friend had not been of the same mindset before, he was now.
He shared the sweet-coated jest and joke with his friend,
A link became a chain,
A chain became a net,
And before I knew it, we were all trapped.

Oh what a wonder, that we never tried to break free,
But promoted our plight in unity,
Oh what a pity, that we never saw the dirt,
But savored the coating.

A day came when I died as a husband,
A day came when I was born and became a wife,
I saw the dirt for what it was, and the coating for what it was too,
A day came when I died as a wife and became a husband yet again,
And I wondered, “Where is my mother now to wash my dirt?”


Life Poetry, Poetry About Life, Poetry For The Heart And Soul

Meet the author

author avatar ammasriram
The writings are informal attempts at documenting spiritual, mystical and philosophical concepts learned through self-experience.

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