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Anais Vionet May 4
You’re so HOT when you lie to me
young republican
I love your insurRECTION
I prefer my men dumb and dishonest
so come Lie with me
give me your BIG one
about how Trump won and
how the big steal couldn’t be stopped
ooo, slower, yes,
Tell me what a strong-man Putin is
with truth in abeyance
Yeah, uh huh, like that
Oooo.. uh..
restrict me, control me.
take my choice, my privacy
Ummm.. yeah..
right there..
impede my vote.. yes, yesss
Keep, keep, umm..
nothing’s wrong
don’t stop, oh,
don’t stop now..
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: abeyance: a state of temporary inactivity.
Eslam Dabank Apr 23
Sirens, ballads of anguish are singing, ears are ringing, 
     Our nightingale is shrieking, and children are clinging.
Our Kalyna is red, but wrapped in blood now, not love, 
     From the massacres aeroplanes bring from far above.

My uncle, enters the now upside-down house of his, 
     “Welcome”, with a phoney grin, and wariness he says. 
The house holding memories is now clogged rubble, 
    In the land that shall never greet occupiers or trouble.

His daughter's dreams shattered, for the reverie of filth, 
     It matters not; the nation of his deserves blood spilth, 
We deserve not peace, but the delusions of a hag pass, 
     May he rest in peace, along with the delusion he has.

My mother may never hear the raindrops fall again;
     Missiles seal ears with noise, and the death of men. 
The men, women and children, who will lead us all, 
     Through scorched fields with whispers old and small.

She is a hairdresser, she might braid hair for the fun, 
     But other mothers, braid the hairs of daughters gone, 
They keep them safe under a pillow where they smell, 
     The warmth of days before the dictator's missiles fell.

Red and black are the only colours they pervaded here, 
    They wish for our colours to diminish and spring adhere, 
But beauty routs the devil of ugliness and his conceit;
    Our colours saturate our resistance, painting your defeat.

They shall not sprout in our fields, like poisonous herbs, 
     They "rescue" us, but the gunshots my brother disturbs, 
We did one day exchange our dreams for a pistol facing - 
     Facing the bear who is destruction, within embracing. 

Blood accumulated in heaps on the sleeves of killers, 
    Like a marvel detested in a chapter of stained thrillers.  
But thriller this is not, it is lives of the innocent lost;
    He plays chess in reality, after a coin he has tossed. 
      
Mothers, daughters, sons and fathers are everyday slain, 
     but spring soars today, prevails tomorrow - in Ukraine.
This poem was inspired by a video I recieved from my uncle, who entered his house for the first time after fleeing it to join the Ukrainian army with a fake smile, saying "welcome! Welcome, Oh God!" - the Oh God was a reaction to the rubble and the wreckage he found. His family had to flee to another region as well.
[अज़ान-हनुमान तो बहाना है,
असल मे तो महंगाई से ध्यान हटाना है!
]

(एक आदमी दूसरे कौम के आदमी से)
प्रदर्शन की सुनाई दे रही आहट है,
तभी सत्ता के गलियारों मे हरबड़ाहट है।
ऊपर से अपने लिए कोई संदेशा आया है,
फिर से उन्होंने आपसी सौहार्द बिगाड़ने को फरमाया है।

(संदेश पढ़ने के बाद वही आदमी)
मै लूंगा लाठी हाथ मे,
तुम भी पत्थर रखना साथ मे।
मै जोर जोर से चिल्लाऊंगा हनुमान,
तुम भी लाउडस्पीकर मे ही गाना अज़ान।

मै अपने लोगो मे, तुम अपने लोगो मे, फैला देना ये बात,
की सामने वाले कर रहे हमारे धर्म पर चोट की शुरुआत।
अगर हमने अभी ही नही बदले अपने ये हालात,
तो अगले ही पल खतरे मे आ जायेगी हमारी पूरी ज़मात।

उसके बाद, हमारे आका सामने आयेंगे, (हा वही आका जिन्होंने संदेशा भेजा था)
दोनो कौम मे नफरती आग फैलायेंगे।
मुझे और तुम्हे आपस मे लड़ाएंगे,
फिर खुद ही शांतिदूत बन जाएंगे।

(लेकिन उसके पहले, उनके शांतिदूत बनने से पहले)
खून की नदियाँ बहेंगी सड़को पर,
दंगों की गाज़ गिरेगी हमारे लड़कों पर।
खून के आँसू रायेगी मासूमियत,
किसी कब्र मे लेटी होगी इंसानियत।

आग की लपटे होंगी चारों ओर,
हर तरफ होगी चीख पुकार की शोर।
आपसी भाईचारे की तो कट ही जाएगी डोर,
हर तरफ धर्मांधता की होगी एक नई भोर।

कट्टर हो जायेगा इंसान, कट्टरता होगी हर रस्ते मे,
पेट्रोल-डिजल का तो पता नही, पर इंसानी जान मिलेगी सस्ते मे।
निंबू का दाम कोई नही पूछेगा, क्योकि खटास तो होगी हमारे ही भाईचारे मे,
हमे लड़ता देख वे हँसेंगे, और अट्टाहस होगी सत्ता के गलियारे मे।

(फिर वही आदमी कहता है)
लेकिन इससे हमे क्या, हम तो है नफरती मजदूर,
लाश पर इंसानो की चलके, बन चुके है हम बहुत क्रूर।
जरूरत कुछ हमारी भी है, तभी तो तलवे चाटने को है मज़बूर,
देखने मे लगते इंसान ही है, पर इंसानियत से अभी है कोशों दूर।

(अंत मे वही आदमी)
हमारा तो है बस इतना ही काम ,
हम तो सिर्फ है अपने आकाओं के गुलाम ।
जिस पल हमे मिलता उनका फरमान ,
निकल जाते उसी वक़्त, हम बर्बाद करने को सारा हिंदुस्तान।
It's my observation that riots don't occur by themselves. The people in power plan and create it; they appoint goons from both religions (Hinduism and Islam) and ask them to spread hatred against the other religions in their own community; these people are known as "नफ़रती मज़दूर" or "Labours of Hatred," don't know about others, but at least I call them. Riots are usually created when the people in power think any protest is going to happen against them regarding their policy. And this time the issue is "inflation" in India, which is why several riots are occurring in the name of Azaan (ISLAM) and Hanuman (HINDUISM)..! 


Planning to recite it out on my YouTube channel... So that, it may create more awareness.
Eslam Dabank Apr 19
Two planets with their two darker moons, resurrect us - 
     Each day, with the white moonrays we daren't discuss, 
Two slivers from the divine universe, a universe blue, 
     Little slivers from the forbidden universe we pursue. 

Planets beloved to the thirsty, lustful, and followers -  
    Upon glimpsing, they are not human, but wallowers!
There, they are the purest, truest, and free of lies, 
    Where embraces, forced or not, reveal the disguise. 

Life in the core, beige seas, and a moon blessing, 
     Are what is unveiled with a universe *******, 
It weeps, it bleeds stars, and breached by invaders, 
     But they care not, those ****** greedy crusaders! 

If close enough, ghostly sanity lost is what remains, 
     But blame yourself not! Blame a universe in chains!
"The dreaded desires to occupy are the poor victims",
     Said some of the species, the law and judges' dictums.

Their planets' soil is honey, we are bears longing, 
     Moons are grapes rare, and beauty we are wronging.
Withered, breathless and embroidered in oldness, 
     Are those planets, caressing fabric killing coldness. 

Non-Indigenous habitants wish to knit filth to them, 
    Impermeable the unknown are, with their ***** stem. 
They cut air, with their unclean air, as if it is theirs! 
    They are afraid of the charm, yet they want shares!

They seek them undercover, the religious, and all.
    Yet play pretend they prefer, from the US to Nepal.
Dazzling is humanity's cheerful reign on morality, 
     It is filled with nonsense, yet they shape our reality. 

Sheet yourself with an atmosphere black as smoke, 
    From the animalistic createurs close whose fire stroke. 
Knives shall be your trees that bloom, to protect, 
    And save you, from the ****** beasts you reject.

In the words above, and what is not their delusion, 
    Women are universes, divine and soaked with effusion -  
An effusion of fear, power, insecurity and greatness,
    Whose fight is wrinkled with rigidity and lateness. 

Planets two, that if shown to the eyes stop cities,  
     Anger narrowness and to wrap, form committees, 
Planets called *******, giving out milk legendary;
     Reviving of race; a continuum of us, the secondary. 
     
A man's world this is, but God's universe is not, 
    Touch not the grace bringing life to blood, you clot, 
The universe is womanhood, and refuge they seek, 
     From their womanhood defiled by thoughts oblique.
Robert Ronnow Apr 12
You can acknowledge the emptiness at the core of your being
or go crazy when the world goes crazy.
The numbers of us overwhelm,
an impending tsunami,
my hopeful eulogy about our responsibilities to each other,
2 jobs 2 hobbies,
the biomass in the crosswalks,
fears that rend and own us,
the Muslim-Judeo-Christian condition.
Your soul is immortal,
it exists outside of time and politics. Just kidding.
Forgotten, forgiven and foregone.
A man’s ego needs no encouragement.
“I’m gonna be huge when I’m dead,” John said
last time we spoke.

Life is fine!
tough
the reward for our colossal imperfections
a back and forth game
the rivers and selfies of an empire
daily low intensity warfare
Good
a gift
not a curse
new, so let go
a veil, thin if one doesn’t believe in mystery
like all things that are forever changing
thriving
enjoying the passage of time
or will be good
but a dream
okey doke, short, a lazy-eyed tiger
क्या क्या काम बताओगे तुम,
राम नाम पे राम नाम पे?
अपना काम चलाओगे तुम,
राम नाम पे राम नाम पे?
---------
डीजल का भी दाम बढ़ा है,
धनिया ,भिंडी भाव चढ़ा है।
कुछ तो राशन सस्ता कर दो ,
राम नाम पे, राम नाम पे।
----------
कहने को तो छोटी रोटी,
पर खुद पर जब आ जाये।
सिंहासन ना चल पाता फिर ,
राम नाम पे राम नाम पे।
----------
पूजा भक्ति बहुत भली पर,
रोजी रोटी काम दिखाओ।
क्या क्या  चुप कराओगे तुम ,
राम नाम पे राम नाम पे।
-----------
माना जनता बहली जाती,
कुछ दिन काम चलाते जाओ।
पर कब तक तुम फुसलाओगे,
राम नाम पे राम नाम पे?
-----------
अजय अमिताभ सुमन:
सर्वाधिकार सुरक्षित
मर्यादा पालन करने की शिक्षा लेनी हो तो प्रभु श्रीराम से बेहतर कोई उदाहरण नहीं हो सकता। कौन सी ऐसी मर्यादा थी जिसका पालन उन्होंने नहीं किया ? जनहित को उन्होंने  हमेशा निज हित सर्वदा उपर रखा। परंतु कुछ संस्थाएं उनके नाम का उपयोग निजस्वार्थ सिद्धि हेतू कर रही हैं। निजहित को जनहित के उपर रखना उनके द्वारा अपनाये गए आदर्शो के विपरीत है। राम नाम का उपयोग निजस्वार्थ सिद्धि हेतु करने की प्रवृत्ति  के विरुद्ध प्रस्तुत है मेरी कविता "क्या क्या काम बताओगे तुम"।
Svode Mar 6
I feel like Christian Bale
in that one movie
"Am I... the American ******?"

the emic and etic personas
collapse in pantomime
like how the Donald destroyed democracy and civil rights for four years.

I feel like the average citizen
who has no choice but to vote
so that I don't get deported once again
Zywa Mar 3
Empty the meeting room
The chairs lined up again
The screen in the corner still spouting
the latest news reports

I lie down on the round table
stretch myself out and surrender
to pleasure, caressed
laziness, oh, don't

think of your hands now
not of decisions taken
plans and action points and
not of the noise outside

the air rippling around
the boxing hustle
the profits bouncing
across cartwheels of hurry

the life of our excesses
of deeds, although I prefer them sometimes
to words, although I prefer them sometimes
because each life does count
Collection "The drama"
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