Tuesday, 18 November 2008


My enemy within me

The enemy within rises
To soaring heights
Through nose, eyes, ears,
Scull, belly, penis…
Through the pores of my skin
Amounting to thousand sculls...

My enemy within – but he is mine –
Whom I embrace for lifetime
To rid of my enemy within
Only once perhaps
When I enter death
Death an unknown region
Beyond living consciousness
Is the only hope led by the fire –
The path of struggle – destruction
To open the gates of Death.

* * *
Baroda (Vadodara)
(I wrote this compostion during my sat in Baroda (now Vadodara). Then I was the witness to communal riots, exploitation of the scheduled caste and the schedule tribe in Gujarat State. It was no more a peace-loving State. But what I witnessed then was only a tip of an iceberg.)

© Remigius de Souza, all rights reserved.


  1. A poignant poem, Remi. I'm glad I came here. Thanks for inviting.

    1. Thanks! Being a farmer at my core, I observed silence for many years... when poetry comes as a safety valve.

  2. Profound... Aligns with my inner being.. I just stumbled upon your blog..

    1. Thanks! In the World-Wide-Wilderness of Internet we somehow stumble upon in this way! I saw the blogs you follow... I appreciate your choice... my interests too.

    2. worldwiderwilderness, the www better expressed... :) I enjoy your writings and paintings although I don't understand much of modern art.. Thank you for sharing..

    3. This is non-art, not modern art really. It happened at the spur of the moment after long reflections... Perhaps it might have had happened because of a photograph of Italian sculpture: A column covered with human figures trying to reach heaved, some were being pushed to hell.
      My miniature painting --- Tentacles -- at side column is a presentation damage to Environment.