Satoma Asadgamaya

Riding in the city rain
Can be a bit of a pain.

Take an oversized raincoat
But what you need is a boat.

Put on straight-line speed
And you got to take real heed.

Touch the skiddy disc brakes,
You'll end up in roadside lakes.

Try overtaking a big bully of a bus,
There'll be more than some fuss.

All he'll do is deposit some mud
And make you look like a dud.

With umbrellas, pedestrians will poke,
For them fencing is a big joke.

In the end what you get is a cold.
Maybe riders shouldn't be so bold.

Riding in the Rain - II

Riding in the country rain
Is the elixir for all pain.

It's great to get all wet,
With someone you'd have met,

On the road by the seashore
Can't ask for anything more.

When the rain kisses your cheek
Your knees go wobbly and weak.

Feel her holding on to you,
Under the canopy of grey and blue.

The machine pulsates with your heart
As if pierced by Cupid's dart.

When her hair swishes past your face,
Just hear the fuddled engine race.

On a rainy day, for such a pillion
Would I ride miles many a million.

The wind....

//Damn! Why do I always wake up at the wrong time?!

Management Class : Idylls of the Wannabe

Whatever happened to the oversized dog
Who was furry and slept like a log?

Some say he finally started to slog
And chronicled his adventures in a blog.

Those battles he had with Shelob and Smaug
And the moment of truth with the fiery Balrog.

He was bustling with life and was all agog
That in this great wheel, he was a tiny cog.

But I think he was actually mired in bog
And was groping about in smothering fog.

Maybe he just went out for a jog,
And died on the road - like a dog.

An afterthought :

Dog, I know your tail will never wag
But don't let your dead spirits sag.

Because I'll do what only I may
I'll show you the hidden way.

Take the dark master's hand
And step into the promised land.

Behold the lights of the city.
Shimmering far away - for eternity.

Management Class : Idylls of the Wannabe

I once had a head of hair.
It was truly beyond compare.
But some things aren't meant to be.
Now most of it is pretty bare.

When one is a twenty something old
Hair is as precious as gold.
When it vanishes into thin air
It's like being left out in the cold.

It doesn't feel terribly good
To hide it under a cap or a hood.
Maybe it was my genes at work
But I really haven't understood.

I do feel swindled and robbed
By the creams and shampoos I've daubed.
When two mirrors showed me the back
The other day, I could've sobbed!

The conspicuous absence of locks
Weighs me down like a ton of rocks
When there are pretty girls around.
It's like taking some really hard knocks.

There are many options they say
To right my feet of clay.
But I guess I've made my choice
I'll go Lex Luthor's way.

Management Class : Idylls of the Wannabe

Let there be light
And darkness will prevail.
Let the heroes fight
And mothers will bewail.

Let there be life
And death will banish.
Let there be no strife
And peace will vanish.

Let there be love
And hatred will cleanse.
Let loose the dove
And the hawk will make amends.

Let there be hope
And gloom will smother.
Let the world desperately grope
And it wouldn't be worth the bother.

Let there be beauty
And ugliness will cure.
Let there be fealty
And treachery will make it pure.

Let there be truth
And hypocrisy will mock.
Let there be youth
And age will debauch.

Let there be justice
And the law will die.
Let those who may search for bliss
And tumult will make them cry.

Let there be good
And evil will defend.
Let there be all that should
And they will all end.

Let there be kindness
And cruelty will reign.
Let there be happiness
And misery will be its bane.

Let there be pleasure
And pain will heal.
Let valour have no measure
And its doom cowardice will seal.

Let there be victory
And defeat will consecrate.
Let there be glorious history
And the future will desecrate.

Let there be God
And the Devil will rise.
Let Him, in armour, be shod
And yet, it'll be the end of His lies.

Management Class : Idylls of the Wannabe