Tuesday, June 22, 2021

A poetess in the country (My verse)

A poetess in the country

Her poem

stomps on

mud

and splattered into pieces.

it's fluid
wets the soil

Her poem
raged
when shadow is
slapped over
its face by
slammed door.

it knew
everyone watched
and no one care
about what happened.

it's eyes
bulged
knuckles squeezed
yet, grew silent.

Her poem
lied
to hide
its shame.

flaming pages
fluttered
to annihilate its heat.

words rose up
powdered tower
of black smoke
as if its
waste truck's rear

it's
hard-hitting truth
stinks pungently
to ensure faces
cringe

Her poem
witnessed
its
underaged daughters
exploited by
male chauvinistic men,
greedy government,
gutless on-lookers.

it has
many dust-covered
pages

One from Austin, US
that gasped
for breath
when a bent knee
pressed on its neck
and bellowed
'i can't breathe'.

Another from Khairlanji, India
worse than an
kinky pornography
that kins are forced
to indulge in incest

Her poem
for centuries
always faced
gallows offered to
those who stand for right

Her poem
managed to
weave it's precious
love for
the people
who read it

it
tried finding
what all are lost
In the country

erected above
under gushing utters
people pushed there
to search their
daily fistful of rice.

Her poem
dog awakes people
at night
barks
at those who
wag their tails,
smiles to
those who answer back
the bark.

Her poem
never end
with or
without her

it wept
for caged
& whispered
to them
never give up
their will
to free.