Happiness

I

I searched happiness in-

pale yellow pages of history.

    Abraham Lincoln was weeping
    on hallowed ground of Gettysburg.

    Loud gun shots silenced Gandhi
    and Martin Luther King.

eternal meditation of the saints.

    When looked at the face of silence,
    I saw children of Newtown in a pool of blood.

II

I marched along side men
and women who shouted "Azadi."
Our voice thundered hearts of evil
in Cairo, in Benghazi, in Tunis.
Then, I swam to Homs via Jerusalem
in the river of tears and sigh.
I saw my mother
in every smile and wrinkle of unknown women.

Promise of a paradise on earth haunts me.
I am a son of a cruel revolution.
Bit by bit, metamorphosis of every
thunder and promise into hollow dream.
Happiness is an eternal struggle.

III

I made friends of all sounds and colors.

Our crescendo ignited the dead of the night.
We danced to the passion of youth and acid.
All became one!

In the morning, we became different again. 

Every molecule mocked at me with utter disdain.

My only hope was in the denial of reality,
so, I built prisons in mind.

IV

I kissed my girl-
sometimes in sweat, sometimes in mud.
Her every loud cry defined me.
As the symphony of our frenzy faded,
I looked at her brown eyes without thrill.
I woke up and off to run a few miles
on the curves of the city.
I searched happiness on those curves
of less human but more spaces.
I drained myself and
found lucid dreams in sleep.

Youth and acid,
tears and revolt,
love and sex,
dream and death;

Happiness lurks.