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Neelam Jun 1
Medieval pundits dictated

what should be hidden

and to what extent.


No dripping moist is allowed

in a woman's heart.

No spontaneity, no searing

emotions are allowed for men.


Hallucinating undeads prowling

around the elusive Maya,

Swearing impunity as they

rolled out Invincibility.


Their crooked smiles are

as anomalous as their dictatorship.


But no one is interested in the

partial shade offered by the

rusted modesty.
I will let the readers to interpret this poem through their own lenses.
Reuben F Apr 25
Who's wearing sundays
Songs jejune peruses;
May her corsage roses
Dress the fine arrays!

And gathered 'round strays,
Each of them amuses
Their eyes with their noses
For depots off ways.

The fantastic plays
Out of them her bruises;
Songs fed by drunk proses
May enchant in rays!
Ananya Jul 2020
Which language does
God speak in?
Does he speak in
tongues of madness
which incite stampedes?
granting infinite miseries
to the souls of atheists?

Is hell where blood traitors
And dishonoured daughters go?
The wretched, the cowardly,
in his name unwilling to ****?
Those ungrateful and offensive
Who returned their breaths
back to him?
The blasphemous, the questioners,
The ones who refused to Unsee?

I'm asking so that when I'm gone
you'll know where to find me.
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