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Narendra Jul 2015
What if a day
While trying to set
The sun gets aborted suddenly
And life comes to end.

What if a day
Ganges or Mississippi
Experience menopause
Feeling how long have been wasted
Their inexhaustible fertility.

May be
Tomorrow is the day
When sky decides to fall back
Can it handle that much of depletion for infinity?

I am confident
Such days are not afar
When earth loses its ability to conceive
And the seeds of human desires
Will die untimely death.

Oh! all good thing are not forever
A poet may not see things beautiful always
Some truths get fertilized before
Nightmares are born.
Narendra Jul 2015
If earth is a mother
We are mother *******,
I swear it's not an ugly name
It is a name
we have earned after awesome ashamedly acts.

We are not simply satisfied with unclothing earth
We love to drill deep inside her womb
And love to ***** huge minarets of her own meat and bones
On her emptied-self;

Earth is a symbol of our unending desires:
Our need are not in our little stomach
They reside in our devilish mind
We are ******* pampered children
We have learnt to live on her depleting signs.

Ignorance is our times' global religion
Lured easily by biblical stories
Told by our corporate priests
My stomach is a warehouse of fast-food chains
My mind is advertisements' gutterhole
Every night I wait to be slaughtered like a hog;
May be now days we are not born with brains
We are jungles of moving men
With umbilical cords gone.

We are dead suckers
We are mother *******.
Narendra Jul 2015
When I was born
There was sky
Over my head
It was blue, sometimes dark
Now there is a canopy of  black tar
ash balloons, concrete shadows
Monster clouds;
Have stars committed suicide too
In a mammoth black hole?
Eagles that chased cotton flies
Also disappeared
What's happening to my little world
It's getting Somewhere lost.
Narendra Jul 2015
No one asked the glaciers
Did they like de-freeze?
Who had that much warmth left?

When was it when someone asked the oceans
How their  thirst was quenched ?
Or how they managed to gasp
As layers of greasy filth floated over their breathing pores .
The rivers  that flew to them were already dammed :
The little ants are never inquired of their tiny aching backs
Stiffened and sore.

The winds were voted popularly
As spreader of venom
And they did not know why?

From the bosoms of earth
Is ****** all verve out
In name of maternal obligations.

The Indus stained in the blood
Wails violently amidst deep gorges
For relentless rapes occurring over her watery soul
We call power stations.
Narendra Jul 2015
A river hides a river inside
May be it has more
By dissolving identities numerous
A river flows.

In the womb of a river
Lies a history of disappearing names
Armies of men
Of the periods
That have been dumped  into ocean.

From its birth to end
A river is never same.

A river is cursed
To live up a death every day
In journey of its being.


A river is not a mother
As is the saying revered
Rivers don’t descend from heavens.
In our times contemporary
They are dying civilizations
Shouldering human filth to thousand miles
Before they meet their unnatural demise.

A river hides a thousand truths
Under its transparent waters
While ripples emanating from the streams
Hardly reach the shore.

— The End —