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Dibakar Ghosh  Jun 2020
SLAP
Dibakar Ghosh Jun 2020
Life of millennials are so juvenile
A day they walk down the stars
A night they run through a beaconof light
Encircled by a drape concealing darkness
To baffle those minds with no clue left aside
With no hope to survive
Either to curb those filthy signs
Or to get chucked in broad daylight
Is this how those spotless minds
Keep their body & soul together
With lies and iniquity all together .

Life's so miserable and impolitic
All we do around is so hasty
With a bunch of ethics to live by
All we do to turn Equality upside-down
With a flock of literates heading through
Under the norms of monestry
All we do to be a cannibal out of misery
Is this how we dream of a paradise,
Where there's no humane ilk left in human minds.

What if a girl wants to live her life
And breathe the air under no ties
What if a lassie wants to be a bit sassy,
To fulfill every yearnings that come by
And to be around those masses
Who makes her feel devine.
What if a wife wants to outlive that happiness
Which she craves round-the-clock
Even after she pampers indubitably
Every requisite her spouse endures.
No matter what she contemplates,
Alas! Those desires land to oblivion.

This generation never fails to stagger
Even if she suffers and serves
Every needs of a man that deserves
And ease his pique even if he resents.
But a man never blunders to let her guard down
Frowns like a ruffian who got on the loose
Hit & slap her as if she's the lost cause
All he does to take control
Over his priceless possession
As if he enslaved a jailbird in his mudhole.

This mankind never rue
Slapping someone without a clue
Even if there's no rationale to go through.
Such a despisal is hard to ponder
Even if a girl neither hold out against
Nor cross swords against those odds
Till there's nothing left to lose.

Maybe it's high time,
One should stand audacious to those crimes
To stand tall against the ferocity
That beholds million lives
Maybe it's time,
To let go of those henious folks
That make their life miserably unknown
And oppose against those slaps
That make them devour,
As everyone's one and the same
In the eyes of the impartial law.
Hope this poem directs each & everyone towards impartial justice and seek out for a better tomorrow.
Peter Pan Feb 2013
There are thousands of us with burning eyes, angry thoughts, clenched fists, muffled screams, broken hearts and failed dreams.
We all gather to show our support for the despisal of the world, or at least what is supposed to be 'life'.
Our power together is tremendous as we all have focused on the same points.
We are something bigger than reality, a linked collection of moments all trying to find the same solution.
We need a purpose, we grasp for any reason that justifies all we have been through.
Together we can try to form one complete life by filling up all the missing parts with faded memories.
Each one of us contributes his moment, his thoughts, his minuscule beauty and then takes his place along side with all the other empties.
Together we look at our shrine to purpose, standing back to search for any aspects of reason.

As the dark falls on our coalition, we realize that nothing has changed, we cannot build a complete form or find our complete purpose.
So every one of use sinks back to our holes and our corners, to go back into hibernation from present reality.
Slowly the creation falls apart and finally, we are nothing again.



*Spring2005
David Hilburn Aug 2022
Judged appointed
Anoint a challenge, in the cue
We work for, all too soon, jealousy's lot
Waiting on me, the condition of a query to look...

Salty exchange
The core of decision
And the irony in a look so strange
Weal, to verify a stay, of what is derision

Spaces for pain...
And the cold shoulder of a quiet
Knowing a name has the courtesy to stay
Will we save a shared eye, from the blessing we saw, have twilight?

Pairs of discipline, taken to tokens
Of worth, ornery and otherwise
When also comes to a ribald joker
The truth in a careless whisper, that knew what to despise...

Despisal itself
Poor old countryman, with a bitter lip
The poise of purpose, a choices wealth
If the savior, the dare, the nary come whit?

Destiny
And the callous cowardice of a journey to sate?
That has come and went, with a riper intendency
Till we meet again, the ruse of what was another mate...?
Goodbye, now and then, I found absolutely nothing, wrong...

— The End —