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Puspanjali Sahu Jul 2016
For me,
love was
my favourite
pale yellow chiffon dress
or may be
my light brown hemp neck less

Brightness of diamonds
placed closely on my fingers
Or darkness of black lines
around my eyes

Love,
may be smiling, giggling or crying over long phonecalls
Or spending hours and hours
and someone’s savings
in a overcrowded mall

Tell me.
how could I realize love can be
more than my imagination,
and your life

It could be choosing
sleepless nights in dark forests
filled with pointed stones
when chances to throw your body
over a cushy bed
in a warm room
is still on

How could I know
how it feels
to take a bullet
directly on your chest
only to
protect the soil on which you were born?

And we, whom you left
in our five star rooms
to sleep peacefully
watch movies with bowls of popcorns
will never understand
what you did for us
even though
we are not related with relations


Today
When I saw you
sleeping peacefully
in the arms of tricolour
and 21-gun salute
could not touch your ear
Today when
thousands of bodies like me
with tear filled heart
raised their hand

I realized
my heart can never love the way
your heart does
and
your soul can never be touched
with my prayers

because

I have never been there
A trial to express the unconditional love every soldier feel for their country.....A tribute to Indian soldiers and and soldiers of any other country, sacrificed their lives for their nation

We can try to feel but I am sure we can never feel what a soldier feel for their nation because we were never in that situation..we have never been there
Crystal windows rest,
Glistening at the faintest of lights
Its ivory body filled with luster and glints of awe
Pure, neither tainted nor cracked.
Iris is at an ocher hue with umber undertones,
A mandala etched by nature on polished stone
Centering a void that engulfs
All that gaze upon the ascetic purity it holds

"Its fairness is a lie," cried the Right eye.

Ruby stone fractured,
Crumbling at the gentlest blow of wind
Its crimson dyed sheen is broken beyond repair
Bloodshot, both pained and aggrieved.
Iris is jet as the night that is starless,
Singularity of corruption and indignation made stone
At one with the entropy
Emanating from its core, its truth breaking away

"Says you who bathes in rusted scarlet!" shouts the Left.

But both window to the patriotic soul fail to see
That their visions made one is what's needed
In steering society towards a panoramic view of tomorrow.
Read more of my works on: brixartanart.tumblr.com
Military Bill -your solid soul hold still,
Flashes, pings, cracks, echoes…
And solid soul hold still,
And solid soul hold still,
Our military Bill,

The war it grows, the war it grows,
And military Bill,
Your solid soul holds still.
Solid soul hold still.
Our military Bill,

Flashes, pings, cracks, echoes…
And solid soul hold still.
And solid soul hold still.
Our military Bill,

Solid soul hold still.
Solid soul hold still.

Our military Bill,
Solid soul of Bill,

Of military bill,
Our Military Bill…
Graff1980 Jun 2016
A flag does not deserve allegiance.
It is only a symbol woven in cloth.
It does represent truth or justice
but the expanding providence
Of undue influence;

Mind controlled population
subservience
to the country you were born in
by chance.

Though it may be pretty
flapping in the wind
it is not a worthy friend
to any woman or man.
It is merely a symbol
waving for the those
who cannot understand
life is more complicated
than their flag lets on.
Military hats; have set up a road block,
Military hats; have all the traffic stopped,
Military hats; are searching a freight train,
Military hats are frantic about something?

When I see military hats acting like these do...
I tend to get real antsy ‘cause I’m stopped and want to move.
And when those military hats started running across the field,
I cranked my car and stomped the gas and left that line of steel.
Where I left, those military hats, -are lying on the ground,

Military hats; are lying, -where the bodies were found.
A tribute to the sacrifices of those in service. No one ever stops to think about how those that serve think of those that do not? Or vice versa. How can you not appreciate what these people do? Even if you disagree with all of it; war. Even if...you LIVE because of them.
Aditi Kumar May 2016
This is my home
This is where I sleep
This is where I hope
This is where I dream.

This is where I cry
This is where I scream
This is where I'm home
This is where I'm me.

I live for it,
Breathe it in:
All the faults
In the skyline
But the breathtaking dawn
Is my lifeline.

This is where I raise my voice
This is where I made my choice
This is where I decided what to give
This is where I decided to live.
My city is still the beautiful wonderland it was when I was still little, in my eyes. I love it with all my heart. I would do anything for it.
Ignatius Hosiana May 2016
Isn't home a place you run to when the world betrays you
isn't home the peace you seek when your heart's at war
isn't home the sanctuary that hides you from the hurricane
isn't home the road you take when there's nowhere left to go
where you finally sit to dust your tired feet
wash off the sticky perspiration and get some relief
isn't home a church, mosque or temple where
you run to when you need to refill the gas of your faith?
Isn't home the light in the darkness, the answer to questions
isn't home the pillar of freedom which when crumbled wrecks our life?
isn't home the beautiful moments curved in stone of memories
like sculptures for a tired mind to remind itself years later
Don't they say east or west, north or south there's nothing better
than the comfort that awaits in the passionate family embrace at home?
Isn't home the pat you need on your shoulder to be strong?
But what happens when the pillars crumbled
when there are no warm arms left for you to return to
no beautiful smiles to welcome you after a long tiring day
of doing nothing, for there is no resting from doing nothing?
what happens when home is a battlefield to be
when Jet fighters buzz like flies and military roam like cockroaches
in an abandoned latrine with piles of **** that gave up its smell
what happens when home is a playground for ugly politics
  that reeks like poorly preserved rotting Nile perch
or Mukene, what happens when home is lost to shameless aliens
when all who live are too afraid to appreciate your milestones
what happens when the landmarks that guided your way home
are all eroded by the flashfloods of deception
and the moments that mattered are buried by the landslides
of looming political turmoil and the wails of those crippled by the regime?
when the earthquakes of greed have buried family under the rubble
when those who can come to the rescue are ruffed up like insurgents?
what happens when the centrepiece that once held home together is shaky
when things are surely bound to fall so far apart?
shall we all run and leave behind the huts we've built
and if we do so shall we ever live a life free of the burden of guilt?
shall we say  goodbye to all this beauty and turn tail
like little rodents frightened of the storms and hail
or shall we stay and defend our home like our forefathers did
like the lions defend their Den with anger and greed
and bleed rivers of blood because our land isn't for sale...
shall we? Shall we fend off these outlanders back to the bush
back to dictating over the cattle or are we still content and
enduring the inhuman lashes leaving bruises on our tattered history
are we going to demand for the reforms we're entitled to
or shall we keep living like the paupers we have been reduced to?
where shall we go when the leopard starts making for us
after the ravenous old beast has eaten all our livestock?
There's no more home in this place, the savages have their machetes
right at our necks,
simply because we're all so afraid of bleeding
forgetting some of our ancestors bled for the home we've lost
and that if we're all afraid of blood, none will be a butcher
if none is a butcher none will eat meat like they say...
who will fight for our home, who will dare face this beast?
Where will we turn to if we can't find warmth home?
Who will welcome us when we have nothing to go home to?
Who will listen to our cowardly story if we never try
who will understand after the pearl's cracked and lost her value
Who will even be kind enough to hear our cry?
Where will we go when our home is too ruined to recover?
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