Her scream is swallowed, thick and deep,
But no one stirs, no one weeps.
A fist like stone cracks open her face,
Blood spills out, a slow disgrace.

He pulls her by the hair, she crawls,
Her body a wreck, her dignity falls.
The blood pools at her feet, a crimson flood,
Her skin shredded, soaked in mud.

The walls whisper of bone that snaps,
Of ribs that break, of flesh that cracks.
Her lips are split, her teeth are gone,
Her spirit erodes, but she still hangs on.

He calls it love — a brutal game,
Her eyes are hollow, her skin a flame.
She bleeds inside, where no one sees,
A lifeless corpse still gasping, "Please."

The neighbors hear, they turn their backs,
Her cries are buried under cracks.
Her blood runs thick across the floor,
A river of red, forevermore.

Her skin is torn, her soul is rent,
A broken body, a life spent.
And when they find her, cold and pale,
They’ll say, "She should’ve screamed, but she was frail."

I came on silver wings,
drifting past dying stars,
hoping to find a world soft enough
to call my own.

I saw blue first,
a planet breathing,
wrapped in mist and promise.
I thought, maybe here—
maybe here I could stay.

But then—
the silence of women swallowed whole,
voices drowned in laws not their own.
Skin held as a currency,
love twisted into a crime.
The ones in power, chosen by fear,
speak with empty mouths
and call it truth.

I watched men sharpen their edges
on the backs of women,
their laughter carving scars,
their hands taking without asking.

The food—
not food at all, but ghosts of what once was,
pumped with things that do not belong.
The trees fall,
not from time,
but from greed’s impatient hands.

And I wonder,
do they not see the world turning brittle?
Do they not hear the earth gasping?

I do not understand your wars,
your hunger for more,
the way you cage each other
and call it freedom.

I only feel it—
the ache of something wrong,
an unraveling, a sickness,
a grief I do not have a name for.

I did not come to be a witness
to a planet choosing its own end.
I came looking for home,
but this—
this is not a place to stay.

So I turn away,
silver wings catching starlight,
searching for a world
that remembers how to be kind.

When the marriage ends,  
and the child is still too small to understand  
what's been torn,  
why is it that the man tells his friends—  
"She was crazy."  
"She never got off her ***."  
"She was too emotional."  
"She never took care of the kids."  

And no one asks him,  
"Why did you stay?"  
Why did you have children with her?  
Why did you marry her in the first place?  
Why does she have full custody now?"  

No one dares to ask,  
because they already know.  

Men stay—  
for the comfort of control,  
for the invisible chains that bind women  
with babies,  
with promises that were never kept.  

They know,  
the way a child knows their mother’s touch  
but never her heart.  

The man knows his power in her silence,  
in her labor,  
in her sacrifices—  
the ones no one sees but her.  

And yet, when she walks away, they ask her,  
"Why did you stay so long?"  

Because they know the cost of leaving  
was more than she could afford.  

But still she walked.  

Still she left.  

Why did she stay?  

For the love she thought might change him.  
For the chance that maybe—just maybe—  
he’d become the man she believed in.  
For the hope that her children would have a father who cared.  

But he didn’t.  

He stayed because he knew—  
the house wouldn’t run without her.  
The kids wouldn’t be fed,  
the bills wouldn’t be paid,  
and the image of a family was more important than the truth.  

Men stay because it’s easier to claim a woman  
than to be the man they promised to be.  

And when she leaves, they don’t ask themselves,  
"Why couldn’t I be better?"  

They just ask,  
"Why did she stay so long?"

You are a brilliant poet and writer
And a terrific activist and orator
On the head, do you hit the nail
Every time without fail!

You speak what people do not want to hear
Which makes me grin from ear to ear
Never do you sugarcoat
Nor do you showboat
Supreme, is your clarity of thought
A lot of battles, must you have undoubtedly fought
And when it cometh to your imagination
To the winds, do you throw caution
The way you repeatedly attack our Brahminical patriarchy
Leaves us all under a spell
Because your writing is so fiery
That even the Sun can't hold a candle to it!!

Your English is flawless
So brilliantly do you assess
The problems in our society
Incomparable, is your brutal honesty
Not to mention, your Tamil is a work of art
Very well, have you played your part
In fighting caste and gender inequality
To all of us, do you represent Hope
Especially in these times of adversity
Never do you sit down and mope
When the going gets tough
Rather, do you tell yourself
"Enough is enough!"
And bounce back with a bang
Loud enough to silence your detractors
Unquestionable, is your character!!

To the literary world, are you an invaluable asset
Because, there ain't nothing you can't achieve
Above all, you make us believe
That we can fight the system
And most importantly, WIN!!

I know we meet
people for a reason
and every time I didn't
think it was the case,
hindsight proved me wrong
ten times out of ten.

But us? I can't seem to accept
you were a stepping stone,
a lesson, a memory etched
in my spirit only meant to
redirect me to another place.

I just don't want what comes next
without you here to share it with me.

Tell me why I can't seem to
come to terms with us being
not only impermanent
but seemingly forgettable.

I cannot bring myself to let go

What is it that I'm "in my head"?
The shape of my brain and skull act as a maze through which frequencies are played by the thought constructs which I employ.
It is like every attribute has a string or key which can be played, and every time it is played, it conjures all the processes which that key has encountered before.
Eyes half closed places me in my head, and body sometimes too.
Looking up is paying homage to the sky.
The ability to walk on two legs places humans between earth and heaven, two limbs can reach up, and two limbs touch bottom.
I have no visible tail, only a remnant of one, which makes my movement dependent on just these four limbs.
The head and spine being shared by all vertebrates, means that its sign is more diverse in nature.
Humans have the largest brains compared to the rest of the body.
However, an extra-terrestrial skeleton proved to have a brain/skull even larger than humans.

Consciousness is held much like using all the controls while driving a car: the eyes adjust, pressure in the skull and body is adjusted with muscles, the position of the body, neck, and head is adjusted.
Sounds are drown out or given attention.
The body can be divorced from emotion, virtue, and the universe.
The Self can be divorced from virtue, organization, emotion, and the universe.
Everything in such a state is local.
When things are local, I can only observe the scattering amplitudes.
If the scattering is very low, then the gross or macro-level world is all I see.
But what is different from a chair or sofa and a star or moon?
Both are made from the same universe.
The difference is that one was formed by humans, the other a part of nature.
What makes nature a better object of focus than man-made objects?
The man-made object tends to already have a use while the natural are base elements.
They signify the lowest grade of complexity.
Thus, my body is the lowest grade, the simplest, structure in the local home.
Being simple, it is like a canvas that can be painted, or a quarry from which a rock can be sculpted.

Now I switch to morning mode, which is about waking up and making progress.
But meditation is just as hard waking up as it is staying up sometimes.
I must once again ask the same questions in a new day.
What is consciousness?
Can it really be defined as a particular mechanism?
Wouldn't DNA be the best candidate, and it is made of compounds, which are found with the elements.
Yes, it seems science must switch from a "finding a particle" mode to a global life-form mode.
One which knows that life is a web of different things without any one of which the whole planet would fail.
"Finding a particle" mode has proven to be at the end of its run for finding them, as to find a graviton would prove impossible due to the amount of energy needed that would then create a minature black hole.
It seems like I'm a couch scientist, or a science critic not contributing to the picture.
The "finding a particle" mode is so hard to give up because it has been a part of science for over 100 years, which has shaped what a scientist does, how one thinks too.
However, the "web of life" mode gives a harder picture to deal with: one of thinking about social relationships between and within species and kingdoms.
It means that insight will no longer come from a "gold rush" type mentality of a find, but rather insight gleaned from a cooperative consultative stream of thought.
It takes the center away from the individual and places it on the community and the biosphere.
The biosphere or world civilization perspective takes away a lot of physics needed and instead offers a simpler picture, far simpler.
Now, I ask: how can social groups become more enlightened?
How will personal growth, science, the humanities, and social justice play a role?
How will spirituality, which so often is "other worldly" actually weaken this social structure if it is not focused on the simple practical matters in the "web of life" outlook?
I now see that asking "what is consciousness?", if asked too much, will prove to individualize and hamper people's worldview by placing its concern on minutia.
This "find a particle" view could even be seen as an illness which keeps people from having a more social outlook.
It means giving up the personal glory of the scientist, for the practical glory of the community, of the whole.
Instead, what will cause love to grow and hatred to end?
What will make conversations and interactions become more mature?

Now I turn to the element of virtues, which can be divorced from the human body if its goals are not aligned with them.
Addressing trama and how to cope, or simply depression and anxiety too.
The goal of course being a utopia where all can flourish physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.
We must come to some shared understanding of how society best operates, or else we will keep contending with each other for a millennia.
I feel these shifts occur form injustice and the rally for justice in its wake.
It really comes down to the people in power making decisions today.
To how we treat those who share different beliefs, and how we distinguish from mere differences of opinion from a difference between knowledge and ignorance.
I can see both sides of abortion having good points.
I can see good all the way from a flat tax (like religion) to very high taxes on the wealthy.
I can see the difference from helping poeple survive to helping them thrive and knowing the good sides of both issues.
Moreover, I can see why too much nationalism and too much globalism could both be unjust due to the particular opinions of a mother nation, and the need for global unity.
I can see why adherence to one religion will only work if it is based on love and freedom, for love without freedom is not unconditional.
Meanwhile freedom without love leads to destruction.
However, erasing safety and protection from love and freedom would also lead to disaster.

Where is the balance?
That is what the "web of life" mode needs to deliberate.
This is a slow process.
The willingness of one can only affect others through wisdom not fanaticism in any degree.
What is consciousness?
The highest consciousness is deciding public affairs and interacting with others about public affairs.
Therefore, read, write, interact, and work.
Then reflect again and see how far we have come.

I am sick and tired of being sick and tired
I am tired of the fights,
The political wars,
And the real ones
Of the lies and deceit,
Of the blinding ignorance

You don’t care
You. Don’t. Care.
Because you don’t have to
Your brothers aren’t being shot,
Your mothers aren’t being locked up
Your aunts aren’t being deported,
And your cousins aren’t beating themselves up
You don’t care,
but I wish you did

What do I have to do?
Because all my talking and all my speeches aren’t helping
I am being called an angry child,
so you can sit comfortably on your throne of privilege

So please, enjoy
Enjoy as your world crumbles and falls around you
But know this
I may be tired,
I may be fed up,
And I may be frustrated,
But I am **** sure not done yet

Humans draw borders on land
As if Earth is unchanging
And our lives immortal to witness the stance
We lay claims to insignificant materials fleeting
But the world and so much more could be all yours
And all yours could remain for Earth's time
If we could only learn to fly our lands as birds do the skies
Traverse the currents as fish do waters

Because just what are you attempting to obtain
With these imaginary labels and lines invisible
Cowardly caging yourself in
From supposed evils of the world
Never to be wiped out
If you are harboring the worst of vices within