Monday, October 3, 2011

A deal with you too

I am a sales man, sell is what I do.

I can sell anything to you.

True Is my story knows the lord.

The first thing I sold, was my umbilical cord.

I was making deals before I could stand.

I got through school by being in a crappy band.

Easy it was, to get through university.

They let me pass for hiding their atrocity.

In the real world soon I was a big man.

Every corporation was my fan.

I was selling stuff across the earth.

They took my word for my goods worth.

I convinced the Indians, the Taj Mahal was mine.

I was selling to the French their own wine.

I brought half the world with my treachery .

My new product was slavery.

Weapons are what I sold to the hungry crowd.

To the market I brought the mushroom cloud.

I am not dead but I live in heaven now.

Also, I own a mansion here don’t ask me how.

I work for the devil and am protected by god.

Beyond your wit is my fraud.

In sleep sometimes I can hear my little girl.

She says I brought the hell to the world.

I whisper back to her these words,

I am a sales man sell is what I do.

I can make a deal with you too.


Pradeep Soni

Monday, June 6, 2011

Me,My and Mine

Does it always have to be about you?
Is there anything that we two can't better do?

Why are we, so stuck with my?
Our ego has split water, land and sky.

Atom bombs and cheap guns,
This is what our selfishness has done.

A little share and a bit of care,
and life will no more be a nightmare.

I have made my point, and if you get it it's fine.
But please don't forget this poem is mine.

Pradeep Soni

Saturday, June 4, 2011


If you shake the tree, a few words may fall.
Which ones to choose, will be your call.

You can feel proud if they rhyme
or make any sense.

But feeling proud is not what poets do,
their head is bent and they are looking
at their shoe.

Because underneath, is the dirt which they see,
that is what we all are going to be.

Pradeep Soni