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Man Spoke Unto Himself

by Ashok Sharda


Ants of the earth once decided
To confer the highest award of the land
To a man they believed was sent from the heavens

Towards heaven did the man raise his hands
Speaking unto him self:
"Them I undid all my life, battling
With all my might every ant, within and without
How do I justify this irony, my Lord
What a joke I am now being recognized
As a BIG ANT!

“In what language did you teach them, friend''-
Quipped a fellow being watching him despair
"How does one convey the unknown
in a language known?

“How can the shallow plunge in
To fathom the depths of the deep?
How can ants measure the
Invisible heights they cannot attain
As the one on the top of this evolutionary scale
Alone can see below, where there is no visibility above

And there is no visibility above
What made you deduce that ants will recognize you as man
What made you play the role of the savior of the ants?''

Frustrated as our friend was, he just kept quite
Never leaving his seat, nor ever laughing again all his life
And to the utter sadness of his fellow man,
Ants, in the end, succeeded in killing him
Bestowing upon him the highest award of the land
Honoring him by placing his statues
On high rise platforms in every square.

Seeing the fate of his fellow man
Our wise being thought it prudent
To metamorphose into an ant

06/28/2005

Posted on 08/22/2006
Copyright © 2024 Ashok Sharda

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Rula Shin on 08/22/06 at 06:02 PM

Poem of the Day. This is amazing Ashok. Simply "divine" if I can be so bold as to say, no ant can see this far down, and looking up is not an option for anyone who believes he has reached the ultimate knowledge. It is a story of the most tragic irony since your "You have to BE to SEE". The depths of sadness I feel reading this piece brings me to the same conclusion: The path is narrow as narrow can be, and this means that ants are helpless to the happenings and "create" all the external "rules". But they do not create the internal realizations of any ONE, nor do they create any "truth", nor are they creators of choice or will, or WHAT IS. Still helpless, without realizing, without choosing, without knowing, and without any will, they are the creators of the Divine, and the killers of Man's potential. That's what I saw in brief. This is most powerful Ashok, and has affected me deeply. But I am happy in my sadness. Highest marks.

Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 08/23/06 at 02:05 PM

This! This is depth! I love this! How can I not want to read it again and again? —to share it with others? If there was only 1 "favorite" poem allowed in a folder, mine would be this one!

§ shalom! §

Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 08/23/06 at 02:14 PM

Thought provoking analogy of prophets, past...present...and future. Often murdered and made martyrs; how new religions get started.

Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 08/26/06 at 01:29 AM

The irony just oozes from this "treatise" on man!

Posted by Joan Serratelli on 09/05/06 at 12:13 PM

Very thought provoking write and worth every minute of it! I really liked this piece, though I cannot articulate why- Great write as usual!

Posted by Rhyana Fisher on 07/15/07 at 03:51 PM

the concluding lines tickle my funny bone. this one goes into favorites. it's nice to have internet access again, even if only for a little while. i had forgotten what i was missing.

Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 05/12/09 at 03:42 AM

Ashok! -where have you traveled to? have you metamorphized into an ant, then? i will seek you under the mounds I will crawl into these tunnels that you have so poemed and given freely...

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