when your words intend to impart advice
or new direction towards a better day
tell me through your story
not some short collection of words
that ring pretty in my ears
or look as if they carry weight
when your words are short and sweet
and their poignancy implies reverence
i will struggle to understand
because i know that sugar can cause rot
and i know, time spent alone in the dark
is how we learn what shadows hide
please tell me more than one line
of some truth you came across
i will listen, if you sell me more than candy
I found somebody who carries my soul gently.
He took the demons you left me with and cast them all out.;
He planted flowers where you left weeds.
Although I was nothing but a dimly lit star to you, he sees the opposite.
I am his sun, he is my moon.
And together we rule the galaxy.
He takes care of me like no one has ever before.
-Thank you for leaving, for if you hadn't I would never have found my diamond in the rough.
The following poem is a generalization, on that, we can likely agree,
but this is the way that most Trumpists appear, to many a person like me:
Dear Trumpists, I am here to say I think I understand
just what you're really all about across the troubled land.
It really bugs you, does it not, when walking in your town,
to see so many people with a skin of black or brown?
To hear a foreign language when the immigrants converse.
To see them in a headscarf or a turban makes you curse.
Their differences, their ways of life, you see as disrespect
and you hate being asked to be "politically correct".
Then one day came a savior shining brighter than the sun.
His name was Donald Trump and you knew he was the one.
You knew you must support him 'cause in every speech he'd give,
he'd validate your hate and he'd fit with your narrative.
"The Mexicans are rapists", "The Muslims seek to kill",
"Black lives don't matter quite so much". Such thoughts gave you a thrill.
Sometimes he was outrageous. You could not trust every word,
but vote for him you did because you felt you had been heard.
Well, now your man's in power and it's no longer fun,
with half his staff revolting (and that's in more ways than one).
He hasn't drained the swamp, it's just become further bogged down,
with all his slimy yes-men there to praise the orange clown.
He comes across as ignorant and looking like a fool.
He's subject to fact-checking and resulting ridicule.
The press, it has a field day and comedians rejoice.
His opponents have united and have found a common voice.
Dear Trumpists, I do understand that this has made you mad,
but sense and reason don't support the notions that you've had.
So you rant on social media with foul, insulting fits,
like a bunch of whining, shouting, howling, idiotic twits.
So Trumpists, don't you realize, your chance has passed you see?
Oppression has been in decline since the end of slavery.
So here's a new idea that I'd really like to share:
You might try something different by showing that you care.
Why don't you go extend a hand to those that you attack.
They might provide you insight that you desperately lack.
Just open up your heart and head and throw away the hate,
and America once more could be a nation that is great.
Link to video of this poem: https://youtu.be/-wpxNc-BtXE
Written February 18, 2017
I don’t care for you.
I don’t care for you anymore.
We had the best time.
The best friendship.
But you wrecked it.
Yes I could put on a smile,
But now you know, will you see through?
See through the cold expression?
See through the cried-out eyes?
Every poem, comment, an invitation
a lead in, espousing wit
an erstwhile conversation
of a literary fit
Respond and retire
words cleverly commit
more fuel for the fire
not a fail, to quit
Teasing and priming prose
not a challenge, or a dare
assuming that you know
yes, I really care
Meri aankho ka tara hi , mujhe aankhe dikhata hai
Jise har ek khushi de di , wo har gam se milata hai
Jubaa se kuch kahu , kaise kahu , kisse kahu maa hu
Sikhaya bolna jisko , wo chup rahna sikhata hai ||
Sula kar soti thi jisko
Wo ab shab bhar jagata hai
Sunai loria jisko , wo ab taane sunata hai ||
Sikhane me usse kya kuch kami meri rahi sochu
Jise ginti sikhayi galtiya meri ginata hai ||
Tu gahri chao hai gar zindgi ek dhoop hai Amma
Dhara pr kab kaha tujh sa koi swaroop hai Amma
Agar ishwar kahi par hai usse dekha kaha kisne
Dhaa par tu hi ishwar ka koi roop hai Amma ||
Naa ucchai sacchi hai naa ye aadhar saccha hai
Maa koi cheej sacchi hai naa ye sansaar saccha hai
Magar dharti se ambar tak yugo se log kahte hai
Agar saccha hai kuch jag me to Maa ka pyar saccha hai ||
Jara saa der hone par sabhi se puchti Amma
Palak jhapke bina darwaja ghar ka taakti Amma
Har ek aahat par uska chouk padna fir duaa dena
Mere ghar laut aane tak barabar jaagati Amma ||
|| Puchta hai Koi Dunia me Mohabbat hai kaha
Muskura deta hu mai or yaad aa jati hai Maa ||
Sulane ke lie mujhko to khud jaagi rahi amma
Sirrhane der tak aksar meri baithi rahi amma
Mere sapno me pariya phul titli bhi tabhi tak the
Mujhe aanchal me apne le ke jab leti rahi amma ||
Badi choti rakam se ghar chalana jaanti thi maa
Kami thi par badi khusiya lutana jaanti thi maa
Mai khushhaali me bhi rishto me bas duri bana paya
Garibi me bhi har rishta nibhana jaanti thi maa
Laga bachpan me yu andhera hi mukaddar hai
Magar maa hausala dekar yu boli tumko kya dar hai
Koi aage niklne ke lie rashta nahi dega
Mere baccho badho aage tumhare saath hai amma
Kisi ke jakhm ye dunia to ab silti nahi amma
Kali dil me ab to preet ki khilti nahi amma
Mai apanapan hi akshar dhundta rahta hu rishto me
Teri nischal si mamta to kahi milti nahi amma
Gamo ki bheed me jisne hume hasna sikhaya tha
Wo jiske dam se tufanoo ne apna sar jhukaya tha
Kisi v julm ke aage kabhi jhukna nahi bete
Sitam ki ummr choti hai mujhe maa ne sikhaya tha || ||
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kiss on the lips,
a shivering trickling
supplication, that kiss
To love you like this,
twisted, listless heaving,
sweat, flesh, blood, ash,
billowing away; Ephemeral.
Just like dreaming, air,
something sweetly seminal,
the nothing that keeps us living,
You are sublime; Exceptional.
I need you like breathing.