Warrior

I gargled my pain,

To quench my thirst

Of war with ink.

I filled my pen,

With the quest of dream

To unravel my fancy.

I finished my poem,

With the portrait of a warrior

Who gargled the world

With a pen in hands.

Poetic Muse

From this grassy shore;

I invocate my glassy muse,

To bring new ink and bore

the ignited heart to fuse,

his thoughts with fancy and fill

the void mind with seeds;

Of love, war and tears and to mill

them into the pages of deeds.

And this grass will wipe,

my fancy to make it real,

And my pen will find ripe

fruits to make it feel.

Thus, I invocate my poetic muse,

To bless me with her poetic booze.

Euthanasia

I wish to be rescued from,

the horrors of pain.

I wish to be relieved from,

the frightening medicines.

I wish to be dead from,

the endless fear of death.

I wish to be dead from,

the painful horrors of life.

Dalit

She was born to a Dalit family;

And she was a Dalit woman,

Who never made jaggar

Without sweating.

She was born to Dalit parents,

Who never taught her to loot.

She was born to a Dalit community,

Where she was taught to be humane.

She was born as a Dalit,

And never lived as a whore.

But you may not allow her;

To drink from your well,

To sit with you,

And to talk like you.

But when she die,

She can embrace the soil like you,

She can be eaten up by the worm like you.

And when she die,

Her soul can meet the creator, not like you,

But as the soul healed by the heavenly nectar,

Which you denied when she was alive.

Letter to my death

Dear death,

Meet me soon,

as I am worried and frightened,

Of the events happening around us.

I know you will come,

But I don't know when!

I know you are powerful,

But you are not masked,

Like the ones who surround us.

Meet me soon without delay

As you are not cruel,

Like the barbaric leaders.

Meet me soon to sanctify us.

Sanity

I want to prove my sanity, 

Not by selling my insanity; 

But being insane among, 

the looters and dupers. 

But being insane before, 

the crooked hearts

which pierced the flesh. 

I want to prove my sanity, 

before satyrs and zealots. 

I want to prove my sanity, 

As a blind, 

As a deaf, 

As a dumb, 

And finally as a corpse. 

Lament of a mother

None can stop me from wailing, 

No pain can be greater than mine, 

And this will stab my heart forever, 

And this will fill my eyes with blood. 

I lost my blood, my flesh, my dream;

The one who was hidden in my womb, 

The one who took breath from my lump, 

The one who should bid farewell for me...

But now I gave him the last kiss;

And it was as soft as his first kiss, 

which made me his mother once, 

And the death knell was like my lullaby...

Now I mourn for him, And, 

None can stop me from wailing.