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  Jul 2016 Priya Devi
Sofia
let me paint you a picture
in shades of black and white
in shades of those who ****
and those who fight
this is what racism looks like
black men with paper hearts
armed with cardboard swords
white men dipped in ivory steel
white men born armed with skin
it's a black man with hands
raised to the heavens
and seeing hell as his last sight
this is what racism feels like
it's your black breath
being ****** out of your lungs
by white hands of white men
dressed in blue gilded in gold
this is what racism sounds like
it's an 18-year old's last words
it's a mother's cry at a police station
it's a bullet racing through the air
this is what racism is
it is not poetry
it's a black man wearing a red shirt
and getting shot six times
this is no crusade
there is no holy purpose
this is the star-spangled truth
a flag drenched in black blood
this is the truth bared in ink
and no poetry can save it
this is not the time to be silent.
Priya Devi Jul 2016
When you learn to live directly under chaos,
To exist on the edge of a perforated sunrise,
To scatter your anger amongst the pebbled eggshells you walk on,
And silence the screams caught in your throat,
You learn that life treats no man or woman with favour.

When your mornings blend with your evenings and daylight become too bright,
When you trust the alignment of the stars over yourself,
When the small flames of doubt play in the back of your mind,
You learn that solace is a myth- there was never a truly and entirely happy man.

When you learn to play the game of survival,
Pretty smiles and well articulated nothings become armour and the world is a battle field
When your arm yourself with everything in your arsenal and emerge screaming battle cries in suburbia
You retreat a wounded and silenced woman
Because this is what the world wants you to be
Do not be what the world wants you to be.
Priya Devi Jul 2016
Hi guys!

I've taken a break from writing and therefore hadn't posted anything in a while. However, I'm planning to throw myself into it this summer by posting here at least once a week and recording more videos for my YouTube page.

Here's a link:
https://m.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLqlP7t52iiV4aNRbfLhOfyth7MOw_P5J5

I'll keep you posted with open mic dates/video releases!

Thank you so much,
Priya **
Priya Devi Jul 2016
You and I are revolutionaries
Right up to the ruckus we cause daily
Switchblade tongues
And coal black lungs
And bittersweet intentions.


We are the voice of a generation
We the Degenerates
We the Proletariats
We the Lost and Found among the wreckage of the millennial metropolis.


Living in our forever 21 society
Governed by no laws and lack of sobriety
We the reckless
We the ruthless
We the key board warriors

Pixels and manic pixie dream girl *******
**** boys, man buns, Jordan's not brogues
We the soulless love makers
We the relentless heartbreakers
We the snapchat sexters, molesters
We the grotesque.

You and I know no boundaries
Lines crossed and used as skipping ropes
As ***** jokes, cut throat and savage
We the endless trouble makers

We who know the end is nigh  
Hiccuping our ways through orchestrated lies
Screaming and bellowing our silent pleas to this world of terror alight
Setting fire to ourselves daily
We the terrified
We the unjustifiable
We the hopeful sad


We the gods of everything and nothing
We the repercussion of double standards
140 characters in every psalm
We the unforgiving
We the unholy
We the non believers
We the incomprehensible in the face of sin


You and I are not recognised by x or Y
We identify in binary with the wind and the stars
Honest realisation that our little lives are insignificant to the monologue of the universe
Lighthearted libertines light years ahead and behind

We the star struck
We the scientists and academics
We the prophets
The artisans
The beauty queens
The mystics and cynics

And I am the voice of a generation you rendered speechless
Priya Devi Jul 2016
I confess
I'm not beyond having a colour complex
Constantly linking colours and emotions
To memories and people
And skin and places and pride

I've tried and tried
But amber passports
And red and blue lights
And the red blush of an Indian bride
All scream to me

And
The space between Blue seas
Have come to mean
Worth

Country to country
Skin to skin
Conflict after conflict

Peace loving megalomaniacs
And proletariats
Under the same blue sky
Priya Devi Jul 2016
The morning was blue
And the world was endless,
The moon and skies watched from their fiery oblivion
And I sat on a porch drinking lemonade in the sun

The walls were blue
Claustrophobia and comfort
Tumbling into each other
Blurred and slurred
Forced serenity, forced to reminisce the sky
And fairy lights for stars in the dark


His eyes were blue
Filled with wonderlust and the heart beat of a hummingbirds wing
Ethereal sunlight hiding the smirk
Deception and beauty
Satisfied, spoiled and bored

The song was blue
A hopeful sadness too obscure for me to know
Marking the moment
Gathering the seconds among the staves

Those bluest of halcyon moments
Made up the darkest day
Whist the unsuspected turbulence
Lay offshore
As a storm at sea
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