Tech Poems

[bharadwaj-mishra]

[bharadwaj-mishra]

[bharadwaj-mishra]

[bharadwaj-mishra]

[bharadwaj-mishra]

[bharadwaj-mishra]

[bharadwaj-mishra]

[bharadwaj-mishra]

[bharadwaj-mishra]

[bharadwaj-mishra]

Pervasive Computing

This printed circuit board is a town

And the mother-board a city

Of interweaving highways and subways,

Like relations.

 And there are Integrated Circuits

Of relating and all relatedness.

Pervasive computing of networks

Permeate / parch all around like cortex.

 The new city like calculations,

Of uncertainties, of permutations and combinations

Go on like rye dialectics between good and evil,

Between moral, immoral and the amoral.

[bharadwaj-mishra]

Sustainable Tomorrow: A Song For The Future

Why this confusion? Why this rage?

Weightless memories pervade my space,

starships hit the mermaids of bygone days

and Olive Ridleys die in old Hemingway’s seas.

 In this chaos I make music for you,

my lovable kids, to march in tune

to another morning that I may not join.

Remember, tomorrow obeys your tonight dreams.

 Tell this story to your children and see

how their eyes flash like camera clicks:

Tell them your father used to wash his car

every Sunday with a gallon of water and shower.

 Tell them we had hens that laid eggs

and we had fruits that grew on trees.

Tell them we had something called petrol and coal

and that we had telephones and TVs to entertain all.

 Don’t forget to mention that I owned some land

on which I built a house and managed a lawn.

Do tell them we had seasons like spring and autumn.

and you heard stories that your maternal uncle is moon.

[bharadwaj-mishra]

One World Is Enough

One Stephen Hawking is enough for the world and worth.

Rest game planners are heretics

Out to invent a black hole on the earth.

Environmentalists and development activists

Will remain stuck in discourses on paradigm shifts.

One Pablo Neruda lived in Madrid,

The Madrid of bells, clocks and trees.

Yet in his ears rung the bowels of volcanoes.

He is back in action now from Chile to Kolkata.

This is when you ask me ‘why I shy’.

A reply from a bedazzled heart

At the glorious celebrations of Disraeli,

While Carlyles shed tears and bones in their graves.