CLOUD POETRY (VIRTUAL REALITY)

Recently when
The police
On cloud one
Of virtual unreality
Faced up to unreal virtuosity
They were trying to find out
How reality could be brought back to the world
After travels in hyperreality
A book was just an echo
And a musician had to find a way to play with a real echo
To find out
What was real
In this world.
If reality were only a chimera
Then why bother?
Out of sheer boredom, dear
I had hoped that there will be something else
In this world than
Computer crap
Which doesn’t mean that we need crap anymore.

He told madame AAA
That he needed some real stuff
To continue his life
If all your cravings are satisfied by computers
And you are left with no more cravings to go on
Where can you find them?
In the real world with god
And not in computers
I would say.
Because the deception in technology
Was obsolete light ages back
And If we still have them
That is because you were excluded from the real
And if the real had excluded you
How and why did it happen?
Because you were still an ordinary person
And the deceptions did not in anyway ring true
Because when god is excluded
And the people are
A paradise crashes
Even if Ceasar was  served his meal
And if technology was a paradise
It had crashed because god was excluded
And the pundits had tried to deceive god
But he could see that the change was brought by him
And not by any pundit
Though they will copy his stuff and try to make them look banal
When they appeared.
But how does brick bats
Help in building a castle in the clouds?
This is not the same chess board, boy
And the columns are not
Of the same colours.
There is no king on board
And the babies are playing with toy cars
And anybody around looks queen enough.
The ships, cars and bicycles on the board
Have no rules to follow
And so the game goes on
As it were to happen.

The (R)ook is no more
Looking for caste-ling
In thin air or the clouds
And the music could no more
Play to a court of judges
Because when everybody plays
It means that everybody also listens.

The man in the race-course circle
Was no Brecht and held nobodies breath
And was choking in his own shit
As others laughed and told him
Cum on, let’s have some sex.
No sir, he replied,
I am one of my own kind
And now can be included
Because everybody is unique now
And so the music can go on.
But how can we play along together?
As equals in a game where the music conducts itself as we go on
Rather than playing to a score sheet
Which has turned a mere scare.
The police is broken
And so are the judges
Now the people can play their music 
And try kissing each other
Anywhere on the streets
And Pani is calling me with some drink and some grass
And I better be going
To smoke that cloud.