For so long-

For so long-

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We’ve been quiet for so long,
Swallowing our words,
Locking them with clenched teeth.
We bury the memories
(Try to anyway);
But they come roaring back,
Stronger, fiercer
Like the crashing waves at shore.

We’ve been quiet for so long,
Nodding our heads
With upturned lips, and our
Everything is great”
Remark.
Bound by fear,
Enslaved by memories.

We’ve been quiet for so long,
At the cost of our sanity;
You and me afraid to utter
Yes, it did happen to me.
we swallow our words,
lock them with clenched teeth,
At the expense of our sanity,
And what has that achieved?
We’ve been quiet for too long…

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In Plain sight-

In Plain sight-

 

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Night sky
No longer scares me,
Neither the darkened alley,
Nor darkened rooms.
I have seen darkness,
On a bright summer day,
In the hearts of fair men
Whose smile,
Melt most people away.
I have heard darkness,
Through the words of women,
Covered up head to toe
In spirituality.
I have felt darkness,
From hands that pass the
Biggest offerings,
At religious gatherings.

Night sky,
No longer scares me.
I have seen enough of the dark
To know, the worst there is-
Hides in plain sight.

My Father-

My Father-

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My father…
What isn’t there to say,
About the man, whose voice
Carried a coldness, akin to the
December weather.

His footsteps-
you could swear left
imprints, on the cold hard
Impenetrable ground.

And his eyes,
had a constantly hovering
Guard of beetle black hair
Furrowed above them. Like a
Permanent tattoo.

He stood ramrod straight,
And spoke in an untremulous way.
He was the dictionary definition of
“Head of the household”.

Then- mama found a place
Amongst the soil,
Six feet under- enshrouded
In white.

His shoulders slopped,
His eyes sacked,
His voice lost the arid detachment
It was famous for… His footsteps,
Barely audible.

And I learnt,
Even a mountain requires
A solid ground to build up on.
Without it- it’d crumble.
My father lost his solid ground.

 

The weight of silence-

The weight of silence-

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To the women who watched him punch me and said nothing…
To the men who watched him tear me and did nothing…

I could run, but I couldn’t.
My arms were burdened with
Two children weighing heavy on
Me,
Run to where,
to whom,
With them?

I could run, but I couldn’t.
My body was pained from bruises
And contusions and lacerations;
Words now familiar to me, all
Thanks to so many,
Too many,
hospital visits.
He’d be on me before my shadow
Was out the door.
I could run, but I couldn’t.

I could say something, but I couldn’t.
What would words impact
The eyes that have seen fists,
Gracing my skin
Like a punching bag;
Seeing is believing I heard,
You saw- but you did nothing.
What has words gotten over vision.
I could say something, but I couldn’t.

So I caress my limbs with Ice,
And swallow my words
As darkness envelopes the sky..
A coward- maybe.
But how do you sleep at night
With your silence?

Agoraphobia-

Agoraphobia-

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He looks like someone,
Who has seen enough of life
To know,
It is not all hunky dory;
There is no pot of gold,
At the end of the journey.

He stands ramrod straight,
slouching,
Only to give a penny,
To the old lady on the street.
A man who is more than,
What the world sees of him.
But I do… see it.

After all,
What else does a home bound,
Fear stricken, panic roped,
Woman got to do but watch.

And I watch the man across the street
Whose smile, is like a warrior
Out of a horrific battle,
Happy yet knowing-
As bad as it was,
Even worse things lay out there.

And he fades around the corner,
Into the unknown….
I look around my walls,
Imprisoned by irrational fear,
Restricted to my limited knowings.

 

One more day-

One more day-

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It doesn’t always take a rope,
To end a life.

Its the breakfast you skip,
For the fear of gaining pounds,
The lunch you nimble at,
For the fear of being judged
By the crowd.

Its the road you cross,
Without checking twice;
The nights you spend,
Without shutting your eyes;
The body you push,
To its brink without regards;

Some deaths aren’t sudden,
Its in the little trivial acts;
Hoping no one would notice,
Thinking- none would miss your departure.

You have survived this long,
And your Lord wont leave you stranded,
If there’s one thing i’d say-
Pls stay alive,
the earth needs your presence.
One more day is all I’m asking,
Always- one more day.

Facebook page: words of a random.

Humanity-

Humanity-

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It is we who buy the guns and we who pull the trigger.

It is we who make the bombs, and we who set its timer.

It is we who pay the price, carve the knife, pierce it into another.

It is we who take the drink, drive the car, crash our brothers.

The gun has no brain and neither the bomb,
The drink has no restraint, neither a knife.

It is we who make the choice, choosing evil over the better,

It is we who wreck humans and wonder where humanity’s gone?

Facebook page: words of a random

the above image was gotten from PInterest

First of all-

First of all-

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I am not your personal poet;
Churning words at your whims,
Do you approve?
A few more here,
A little less there;
Pouring your emotions,
From the tip of my pen.

I am not your personal therapist;
Listening to your woes at your
Convenience,
A sponge to absorb your torments,
And a seal to my comments,
Because You and You is all
That should come first.

I am not your doll to be used,
Or better yet abused
At your beck and call;
My legs aren’t yours to move,
At the beat of your drum;
Right-left-forward- now back

But I do write your poems,
And I do listen to your woes,
I’ll move the ground and skies for you,
You don’t even have to ask.
I don’t do it for your status,
Your might or your “prowess”,
I do it because i’m made that way,
To give and bleed unreciprocated.

I do it because,
my heart’s wired to give,
Even if yours isn’t.

 

 

Of despair & hope-

Of despair & hope-

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Depression,
is a friend to despair,
trudging along the same path;
when one comes,
so does the other.
As is said in the kid’s rhyme-
Birds of the same feathers,
They flock together.
They could have just said-
Depression and despair.

Depression,
has got an enemy in hope.
The different ends
of a magnetic pole.
When one draws to an edge,
The other pulls to another.
Depression and hope,
Do not last together.
When one stays,
the other has got to go.
(Depression has got to go)

Depression,
Brings along its friend-
Despair.
Hope is its own force,
Sufficient against them.

The above image is courtesy of Thehealthyplace.com

 

A writer to another-

A writer to another-

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You have your love,
I have my darkness,

You pour your heart,
I divulge my soul,

You have your lover,
I have my black dog,

You write of the future,
I disdain my past.

You write of rainbows,
I write of dark clouds

You write in free verse,
I drown in rhymes,

You are a writer,
I write in hiding,

When you’ll write of heartbreaks,
I’ll write of hope.

You bloom under sunbeams,
I strengthen with lightning,

Our swords are the same
Just not our pattern of fighting,

When my clouds dissipates
And you, darkness visits

Here are my words,
To keep you company.

You have your love,
I have my darkness,

We both need each other,
In a world that keeps changing.

The above image is courtesy of Tumblr