This Poem Is.......

photo by Margaret @ Real Toads

                     I

This poem has abyss eyes

Of the blistering souls

Who live on burnt landscape of suicide*

Yet dreaming of the sky to melt into blue water

And douse the hunger-flame in each gut

This poem is a groan

 

                     II

This poem pulls each groan to unite

Against the hot powdery earth

And birth deep ponds, trap rains, heed to BAIF

Whose labor of love would give magic yearns

To weave dreams of higher life

This poem is a battle-cry

 

                     III

This poem shows how magic was wrought

How soil’s wrath mellowed into green dreams

How drought’s vengeance was on the back foot

How prosperity embraced one and all

How every atom danced to the rhythm of life

This poem is a victory

 

                     IV

This poem is a groan of despaired souls

This poem is their united battle-cry

This poem is the magical victory of Man

*In 2012, the National Crime Records Bureau of India reported 13,754 farmer suicides. India is an agrarian country with around 60% of its people depending directly or indirectly upon agriculture. Farmer suicides account for 11.2% of all suicides in India.^[1] Activists and scholars have offered a number of conflicting reasons for farmer suicides, such as monsoon failure, high debt burdens, genetically modified crops, government policies, public mental health, personal issues and family problems.^[4][5][6] There are also accusation of states fudging the data on farmer suicides. Source: Wikipedia.

 

 I used the No. 3 prompt Imagined by Hannah "Boomerang Metaphors"

Posted for Margaret’s Play it Again, Toads @ Real Toads

 &

 Shared with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

Taxman

source

 When you are in this prison

Of the body

Beware of the Taxman

 

It’s not “There is one for you, and nineteen for me”

He will “take it all”

Awaits patiently the Taxman

 

Your service begins at birth

You pay with your ailment, fear and sorrow

Mail comes from the Taxman

 

He is the Sovereign

You are the subject living in false premise

There is the Taxman

 

Your heat of life will inevitably dim

“The pennies on your eyes” will stare

Will you see the Taxman?

 

This is His system

If His advices are kept

Happy is the Taxman

 

Written for M’s Get Listed – July @ Real Toads

 

Quotes are from Beetles' Taxman...

(The listed words were: taxman, heat, prison, fear, mail, inevitable, premise, sovereign, system, advice, beware, kept)

Unity

source

My prayers for all

To be the bridge

Between discord and harmony

To be the thin crack of light

Between two banks of darkness

To be the spritely spring

Between blazing summer and icy winter

To become One

With All That Is

 

Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Unity @ Poets United

Trains

source

The old man’s indolent moments

On the railway platform on a bench

Pass luxuriantly watching

These huge steel centipedes

Pouring out humans from their

Square metallic yawn

And taking away equal amounts

To some near and distant places

After long hours were well fed with dreams

He rises and goes home

Leaving a deep sigh and the shards

Of his hued youthful past

On the unending long floor

 

Posted for dVerse Poetics: All Aboard

Let Go

We can’t uproot a sorrow

From that heart space

And plant happiness

In its stead

What we do is

Breathe in and breathe out

Time

In the hope of healing

Which is as absurd as sky blossoms

For I’ll never let go

Your smile

Your tears

Your voice

Your fears

They have crystallized

In that open space

Within my being

 

 

Posted for APED’s prompt Let Go

&

Shared with Poets Pantry @ Poets United

My Philosophy of Connection

I connect with a rock

Not because it knows

The meaning of hardness

And endurance

But only for the reason

That it exists

I too exist

Thus I learn

To connect with all

 

Posted for Brian’s prompt @ dVerse ~ Poets Pub

Prayer is Power

“Power may make many earthly gods,
Where gold and bribery's guilt prevails,”---From the poem Death by John Clare

source

We are their sleepy dolls

Holding our hands in fear

Set before the high pedestals

Where the earthly gods stand

Weaving meshes of mirage words

To entangle each one of us

To dance to their tune

And become parched

We whisper prayer

To wake up from this mesmerism

The touch of each of our hands

Warms us

We feel the gushing of stream

Each droplet made of dream

In our limbs

We stir with life

Holding a flame in the heart

We flare up

Their word bubbles burst

We come out of the noir-trap

 

 

Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Power @ Poets United