BIOGRAPHY:
BIOGRAPHY:
Jernail Singh Anand is President of the International Academy of Ethics. He is author of 165 plus books in English poetry, fiction, non-fiction, philosophy and spirituality. The Academy of Arts and Philosophical Sciences, Bari (Italy) honoured him with the prestigious position of Honorable Academic. He was awarded Charter of Morava, the great International Award in Creativity by Serbian Writers Association, Belgrade at the 60th Belgrade International Writers Meeting (Oct 2023), and his name was engraved on the Poets’ Rock in Serbia. Recently, he was awarded Doctor of Philosophy [Honoris Causa] by the University of Engg and Management, Jaipur abd Noman Survivors Literary Award from. Naji Naaman Foundation. His most phenomenal book is Lustus:The Prince of Darkness [first epic of the Mahakaal Trilogy]. [Email: anandjs55@yahoo.com Mobile: 919876652401[Whatsapp] (ethicsacademy.co.in).
Link Bibliography:
https://atunispoetry.com/2023/12/08/indian-author-dr-jernail-s-anand-honoured-at-the-60th-belgrade-international-meeting-of-writers/
IDIOT’S TALE
To explain the cosmic phenomenon
In vain doth human beings try
And come to conclusions
Which cosmic wisdom belie,
And irritate gods
Who overturn the apple cart of reason
And leave human wisdom high and dry.
Do not dare. Whatever they affair
No use controverting with gods
And the divine fare
The prophets from the
holy tops blare
Only currency
That works with gods
Is not reason,
But patience and prayer.
Where is wisdom if you try
To read and interpret
A text
Which is not fully written yet
You have yet to fume
Yet to fret
And still to write a tale,
Idiot! Don’t forget
MYSTERY
Man is foxed by gods’
Appear and disappear policy
Talk in gestures
Keep men guessing
For, reason offers
Nothing but a cloudy sunshine.
To err is human.
To contrive divine.
Man is unhappy when he fails
To decipher
The silence of gods
Or even what they say
Nee, suggest, or indicate
No Google or Chatgpt
Can extrapolate,
What is written in man’s fate
The more we try to understand
The more we irritate
The gods who deem it
A challenge to divine estate
Let it be.. let it go,
Surrender, and smile O mate!
Leave every thing we love
To it fate.
POETS LOVE
I know before the will of gods
And a woman’s studied denial
A man stands
No chance of a fair trial.
Love is a blind Passion
And a wild goose chase
Wish you good luck
If you leave this craze
They are god’s elite force
Trained eternally
In this divine course
Giveth thou no ear to His discourse?
Stop all this over-turing and tantricks*
Said God
Just stop questioning,
Thou shalt be in thy happiest mode.
As Lucy to the poet once turned
A memory sweet
Some objects of love
The Lucinian destiny retweet.
To become a part of
The diurnal course of the earth
And bless the poet
Yet give him no more than a wide berth.
(*Tantricks is reformed from tantrums )
THE TRIBAL FACE
I was a man, with a soul
And a face,
A single face
Which was my ID too
We don’t need tribals
Was having an original face
And a soul of one’s own
Being a tribal ?
They took me to a museum
Where I saw two personalities
Of a person,
Helped by a script writer
One was a real man,
With a real voice
The other, the unreal,
And public like a narrative.
What I see in the streets
Are faces
A part of a narrative
Dictated by forces of time
Gods who came to meet me,
Looking for my tribal face
Were shocked.
The real had disappeared.
I was, among faces,
Just a face,
Suffering a desperate fate
A body without a faith.
THE BABBLING SQUAD
Two words in Punjabi
Best describe a poet and his poetry
‘Bhakai’ and ‘Shudai’
‘Bhakai’ means nonsense babble
And ‘Shudai’, a crazy lot
Who only speaks, and listens not
Millions of poets like birds on trees
Are crooning their song
Of only good and no wrong
Those who are to run governments
And then in their positions thrive
Can’t on vacant notes survive
How can good and God be yoked
In the playing fields of sin
Where devil rules uninvoked.
Poets thou are a babbling squad
Better each to the other listen,
And think your job is done.
Let the crazy world in its follies engage
Keep intact the fleet of thy words,
The Prophet says.
THE BABBLING SQUAD – PART II
The words were sitting on eves of homes
And on trees
And talking loudly
The great man heard their babble
Non sense
What will become of this humanity.
He sent his armed men
To scare them away
So that there is peace in the locality
The Administrator wanted
To know,
What they wanted from the municipality
Unhappy? Why this poetry ?
They get free (sun)light, free water,
And even air is free.
He announced an award
For the Best in Oratory
And thus silenced the babbling community.
is President of the International Academy of Ethics. He is author of 165 plus books in English poetry, fiction, non-fiction, philosophy and spirituality. The Academy of Arts and Philosophical Sciences, Bari (Italy) honoured him with the prestigious position of Honorable Academic. He was awarded Charter of Morava, the great International Award in Creativity by Serbian Writers Association, Belgrade at the 60th Belgrade International Writers Meeting (Oct 2023), and his name was engraved on the Poets’ Rock in Serbia. Recently, he was awarded Doctor of Philosophy [Honoris Causa] by the University of Engg and Management, Jaipur abd Noman Survivors Literary Award from. Naji Naaman Foundation. His most phenomenal book is Lustus:The Prince of Darkness [first epic of the Mahakaal Trilogy].
IDIOT’S TALE
To explain the cosmic phenomenon
In vain doth human beings try
And come to conclusions
Which cosmic wisdom belie,
And irritate gods
Who overturn the apple cart of reason
And leave human wisdom high and dry.
Do not dare. Whatever they affair
No use controverting with gods
And the divine fare
The prophets from the
holy tops blare
Only currency
That works with gods
Is not reason,
But patience and prayer.
Where is wisdom if you try
To read and interpret
A text
Which is not fully written yet
You have yet to fume
Yet to fret
And still to write a tale,
Idiot! Don’t forget
MYSTERY
Man is foxed by gods’
Appear and disappear policy
Talk in gestures
Keep men guessing
For, reason offers
Nothing but a cloudy sunshine.
To err is human.
To contrive divine.
Man is unhappy when he fails
To decipher
The silence of gods
Or even what they say
Nee, suggest, or indicate
No Google or Chatgpt
Can extrapolate,
What is written in man’s fate
The more we try to understand
The more we irritate
The gods who deem it
A challenge to divine estate
Let it be.. let it go,
Surrender, and smile O mate!
Leave every thing we love
To it fate.
POETS LOVE
I know before the will of gods
And a woman’s studied denial
A man stands
No chance of a fair trial.
Love is a blind Passion
And a wild goose chase
Wish you good luck
If you leave this craze
They are god’s elite force
Trained eternally
In this divine course
Giveth thou no ear to His discourse?
Stop all this over-turing and tantricks*
Said God
Just stop questioning,
Thou shalt be in thy happiest mode.
As Lucy to the poet once turned
A memory sweet
Some objects of love
The Lucinian destiny retweet.
To become a part of
The diurnal course of the earth
And bless the poet
Yet give him no more than a wide berth.
(*Tantricks is reformed from tantrums )
THE TRIBAL FACE
I was a man, with a soul
And a face,
A single face
Which was my ID too
We don’t need tribals
Was having an original face
And a soul of one’s own
Being a tribal ?
They took me to a museum
Where I saw two personalities
Of a person,
Helped by a script writer
One was a real man,
With a real voice
The other, the unreal,
And public like a narrative.
What I see in the streets
Are faces
A part of a narrative
Dictated by forces of time
Gods who came to meet me,
Looking for my tribal face
Were shocked.
The real had disappeared.
I was, among faces,
Just a face,
Suffering a desperate fate
A body without a faith.
THE BABBLING SQUAD
Two words in Punjabi
Best describe a poet and his poetry
‘Bhakai’ and ‘Shudai’
‘Bhakai’ means nonsense babble
And ‘Shudai’, a crazy lot
Who only speaks, and listens not
Millions of poets like birds on trees
Are crooning their song
Of only good and no wrong
Those who are to run governments
And then in their positions thrive
Can’t on vacant notes survive
How can good and God be yoked
In the playing fields of sin
Where devil rules uninvoked.
Poets thou are a babbling squad
Better each to the other listen,
And think your job is done.
Let the crazy world in its follies engage
Keep intact the fleet of thy words,
The Prophet says.
THE BABBLING SQUAD – PART II
The words were sitting on eves of homes
And on trees
And talking loudly
The great man heard their babble
Non sense
What will become of this humanity.
He sent his armed men
To scare them away
So that there is peace in the locality
The Administrator wanted
To know,
What they wanted from the municipality
Unhappy? Why this poetry ?
They get free (sun)light, free water,
And even air is free.
He announced an award
For the Best in Oratory
And thus silenced the babbling community.