"capitalised" poems
Enter 2014, the jungle became a democracy,
And elections were held.
The lion won and became the king,
And the opposition were decimated.
A similar thing happened 5 years later,
And the hyenas all united beyond factions.
2024, the elections were held yet again,
The earlier king got lesser votes.
But the lion was chosen the king anyway,
Still, the hyenas behaved as if they won.
The prince of hyenas, 53 years of age,
Claimed a moral victory and they celebrated.
It's like the silver medalist celebrating,
And their minions are to blame.
We voted without thinking,
And they capitalised the game.
Everything they did to build the jungle,
Into a paradise went down the drain.
Jun 5, 2024
Jun 5, 2024 at 1:01 AM UTC
A Girl was pushed into a new World
When she was just seventeen
That new world named her as ****
Her Body became an Opaline
It was the time when
Recession Smacked the City
She was fired from her Job
Left with no complicity
Soon she became a sensation
Her Business became a calculation
London was again capitalised
But she was Stucked Allied
She lived a two face life
Different during day, Different during night
She wanted to make it all same
But every time her bills made her lame
One Day she accidently visited a Grocery Store
She used to visit with her mom
“Oh I have been here before!!”
She murmured that and fell in lore
She got stumbled
But she recovered soon
Walked out of the store
In a B-RIGHT new boon
“Yes I Love my Job
There is Nothing Wrong about it”
Being Different in the Mob
At least she is not cheating the blob.
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 9:47 PM UTC
Eyes wide open,
mind tightly shut,
we play victims to the postman
slotting news and letters
where little light filters through,
only as he sees fit.
Grotesque, gross manufacturers
spewing out page after page after page
of page three scandals -
of rich brats waxing lyrical,
American hip-hop DUIs,
fat cats cat-fighting.
Media
breast-feeds her gullible men
and milks the misfortunes.
We are part of the orchestra -
synchronised puppets looking to our
Master
to tell us
how
to read the notes.
Outside
there are flimsy flyers
advertising freedom
that have morphed into paper-planes,
but are impenetrable of ignorant masses,
flitting around the heads of the blind -
like cartoon characters after
being beaten up by
fists.
It is injustice.
Peel the scales from your eyes
and open the flood-gates, let forth the criticism!
Ask why an American singer's ten minute jail sentence
is more important than an Afghan girl's sentencing to be gang-raped.
Ask who the ten percent of the South African population are that receive sixty percent of our gross national income and how to alter that socio-economic gap.
Ask what is to become of learners who pass with thirty percent and if that is even possible when books aren't being delivered to schools.
Ask where one can find manifestos instead of accusations from each political party.
Do not let them dictate
your truths as
CAPITALISED LETTERS
with no urgency.
Do not let them confine
your insight to the ink on a page.
We are worth more than glossy sensationalism.
We are worthy of urgent honesty, transparency and enlightenment -
herein lies true freedom.
The liberation of the mind.
The uncoiling fist of a freedom fighter revealing the truth held within.
Amandla awethu.
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 4:09 PM UTC
Equality?
There's no equality!
You see the tyranny of the heart,
The hands that exploit, the mind that steals,
From the hands that make,
From the minds that conceive,
The little ones and the old.
All cease
After time capitalised.
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 12:46 PM UTC
the fledgling light being carnivorous ate up the stipends
of the hopes that suggested anti-colonial rule
beginning with India and pop-culture;
i'm sure they recorded Frogstomp aged 15...
imgining it, Israel's Son teen fancy for politics, **** me,
Nevada in an hourglass trickles a month through...
curses worse off than attributed to Nirvana -
i'm with Heath Ledger on this one
and his joker dubbed Neil Swats
given the drunk accenting debauch;
called him the Watts or the Volts,
or Tom Waits - grr, gurl or curl the toothpick -
for use in chop-chop-Bruce-Lee
mitigating Springsteen with chord rhythm -
i get it, a crowd pleasing type,
i wasn't, never will be - i minded midnight
tomorrow than the noon of today -
so many people ended up on a car-boot sale of
expectations that few geared into owning a
sports car - it was wonderful, thank you,
some of us educated ourselves for no reason,
that we know happened, because all the **********
capitalised on your stupidity -
we were never the nuclear physicists,
so why did we bother rather than investing in being
supermarket cashiers? why did we?
what was the point? i guess we fabled having parents
who wished us a better life, and in so wishing
begot themselves a better one, and for us a worse one...
oh well... what awaits us in redemptive spirit is
a Samurai's death and nothing else;
akin to Isaiah's oath demanding populist demand
from the heights of formerly being a socialite
in the rigidity of an Israelite king's courtship -
for sooner the pauper claiming to be king,
than the king claiming to be pauper - should both
compete to make his stance righteous among
the merchants / Mohammads / or among those
selling pigeons for worth of postage stamps in
Jerusalem's sacred temple that suggested the news be spread,
rather than those spreading it be whipped and
thrown out - so a pauper-king precedes a king-pauper?
oddly, had that Tibetan prince not descended to India
rather than scaled his way to China - then the similarity -
as the man who desired the northern lands but had
misgivings to the Arabian soil.
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 9:14 PM UTC
*Nobody remembers the losers but not even a million years
will make me forget the passion and the tears
it was not just a game, it was totally hard work
albeit chances weren't capitalised besides the bad luck
You're one player who hasn't had it easy of late
but I hope you don't second guess yourself for the errors of fate
I have never shed a tear because of sport
but yesterday I did for your tears broke my heart
You may never read this, maybe you've seen worse
but as one of your biggest fans, I couldn't let these words pass
It's a pity about yesterday, when the best was not lucky enough
such cruelty, the game is sometimes unfairly rough
so I will always remember the tears after centuries
just as I remember that equaliser at Camp Nou
that you were among those who won at Munich
the emotions that day were equally unique
I wanted a repeat for you yesterday and truthfully
much as you didn't impact as much as the younger you would
at least you won them a chance to level it earlier
it was missed, maybe destiny played part or nerves
but I'll never forget that moment, the torment
No body remembers losers so I'm gladly a nobody
who will tell your side of the story every time I get the chance
it equally hurt, the win going the other way for the second time
it equally made my heart lose its rhythm and rhyme
but like Wenger often says, next time better
for failures often season the triumphs sweeter
Tell Diego he's wrong, colchoneros will always remember
the fight and spirit depicted until the fateful surrender
I will always remember.*
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 8:31 AM UTC
Love is real,
Love is real when you feel it,
Love is real when you taste it, say it...
Love is real when you think it,
Love is real when you are loved,
Real love is capitalised!
Never take a chance to cry,
Love is not an argument,
Love is discussed,
Love is real cause Love is us,
Love is open never close to darkness,
Love is embracment from me to you,
Love can't be thru cause its you,
Love is real!
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 2:11 AM UTC
She had introduced me,
To Hello Poetry.
'Twas a day like none other,
I reached Amritsar for her.
Accompanying me that day,
Was my kind physiotherapist.
Yes, the very same physiotherapist,
Who I dubbed physio the ******
For the pain used to be unbearable.
But no,
'Twas necessary for my betterment.
Coming back to Amritsar,
She was pleasantly surprised.
For she thought I'd play a prank,
Just like she had played one on me.
Giving me a false hope that she'll come,
Anyway, I went to her home.
I wished her on her birthday,
My physiotherapist went away.
I tuned her guitar as E A D G B E,
Eddy Ate Dynamite, Good Bye Eddy.
They laughed, her friends.
For who eats a Dynamite!
Well, that's the standard tuning,
Now I played a few songs.
Her friends were impressed,
Of me, she was proud.
I presented her a pen drive,
A Gaņesha adorned drive.
She loved it,
And thanked me.
After the party, she insisted that I stay,
I slept beside her father.
She shook me awake, and I was like,
"Who are you," she put her hand.
"Shh, it's me," she whispered,
I understood and relaxed.
She kissed me again at 3:30 a.m. on 24th,
This time I was awake and gave her my warmth.
Later, before sunrise, I went to the Station,
I had united with my Physio The ******
I hugged her for one last time,
And we climbed on the train back.
Now nothing remains but memories,
Bitter ones to be more precise.
She cheated on me in 2015-16,
When I couldn't go to Amritsar.
My former best friend capitalised,
The ******* induced the breakup.
But that girl, who got so easily seduced,
She Wasn't Sad — Droņa Wept Like Kids.
And the immortal Droņa died,
Unable to trust anyone again.
Sep 22, 2024
Sep 22, 2024 at 2:05 PM UTC
So much poetry is about love
What even is this?
I say I’m not the romantic sort so
How is this my life?
Tell me why I write
Verse after verse
With a ‘you’
And an ‘I’
And why do I think that
You should be capitalised?
And I was the I
Who ended it with You
And I don’t miss You
-Je ne regrette rien-
But my blood box does not listen
To my head
I think this is where the problem lies
Which one I should cut out, ah
That is the question
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 2:19 AM UTC
you are fading ,
i hate change ,
i hate it almost as much as i hate non capitalised letters ,
or poorly punctuated - sentences ,
you may not think you're fading ,
but you are ,
and once you've been drained ,
that will be it ,
there will be no restoration of colour ,
no feeling of content ,
beware my fragile brain because you are fading fast ,
faster than i'd ever have imagined.
Nov 22, 2018
Nov 22, 2018 at 3:25 PM UTC