"jayant" poems
Dear Men,
I am a woman,
Whom you never saw As a fellow human being.
But as a body of blood, Holding those assets,
To satiate your cannibalistic desires.
You never searched the “me” within ‘me’
I also have the feelings which you never try to understand.
I am that conscious soul,
whom you call unfathomable.
I am a woman
I gave birth to you
I keep you in my womb for nine months
but, I see you staring at me stalking me
like a hungry beast
I am not a just a pound of flesh;
I am that conscious soul,
to whom you deny the rights.
When you strip off my shame,
from my parched skin,
You degrade your birth too.
You label me with names **** *****
but you never think it’s you,
who come on the knees to get me at ‘BROTHELS’.
to prove you are the MAN
there, you don’t just play with my body only then,
you not only **** me but **** your souls too
Yes, I am that woman.
You pretend to worship me in temples
you fancy me in your dreams.
But, never adore me in reality.
When you sell me
in the market like an object then,
you sell your souls too.
Whenever you ****** me
Try to bully me
beat me in black and blue
For your pride
You step down As a man.
I am a woman
Yes, I ********** for five days
each month from puberty to menopause
to get prepared for becoming a mother
but, you treat me as untouchable on those days?!
I am a woman and am proud of who I am.
I am that being who is the alpha of all.
I am not just my body
I am a conscious soul.
(C) Jayant OM
Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 7:56 AM UTC
Happenstance, my resentful muse appeared in front of me,
in a bleak and bitter night
to mourn over the death of my feelings.
and, I standing over the edge of a cliff
a snowy cliff
I was not alone,
my feelings were by my side.
my feelings which are
half parched, half shriveled
and I began to strip those feelings furthermore
so they can be heaped
and I can exhume them for good in the fire within.
the sullen muse smiled apathetically; Ironically my lips curved too
as we both knew each other.
And, the night was astonished to see us smiling.
and I took my confidant, it read.
The coldness within is far colder than
the snows; you might meet soon your beloved at the dawn
but that dawn never ever came to knock the closed doors
of my heart.
my heart like a cloak
has encompassed my being
and it knows
what they call LOVE
LOVE IS NOTHING BUT AN ILLUSION.
as relationships are always
a gamble, merely a prediction
which by the times turns into
a dessert.
and the dust of time
makes is barren
more barren by each passing moment.
Night, by then was about to bid adieu
and it stopped just for a while
to say
your disclaimed existence is not a song
it is a lullaby of your soul
which is in a deep slumber
and I along with dawn shall make you love again.
it is a promise to you.
And, that promise is even today remains a promise
unfulfilled promise.
© Jayant Kumar Sheen
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 8:16 AM UTC