"segregates" poems
**In deep sleep, her anguished voice rings a bell in my brain,
hear the screams of a woman in my blood stream,
hallucination, I loved to believe, but then it became more frequent
at night, she whispers, her intimate secrets, without shame
in to my ears, in a seductive voice.Do I like it? she snickers
I got used to it's persuasive lilt, sometimes it sounds like a complaint.
If I turn a deaf ear, she knows how to make me listen
Then I am all ears; become her single, faithful, captive listener.
She questions me sometimes"Tell me what you know about ***
I go and learn the fundas on the female of the spices,
in detail, pass the test,
wonder, how little I know about her as a person. Isn't she my counterpart?
She talks about the curtain of ignorance, that still segregates her from him
and chides me "Will you be complete, if I didn't wake you up"**
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 1:58 PM UTC
I am not exotic
But I am ******
I’m not this flesh
Or these bones
This body is
My home,
My temple,
For I am
******
Mother and
Sacred Crone
I am not exotic
But I am ******
I am the fire
Of Holy Desire
I am kundalini Shakti
Sacred Power
Life Force Energy
What you cannot
See in thee
You project
Onto me
I am not your
Mother Wound
Projection nor
The cause of
Your demonised
********
Open your eyes
To the lies
You cannot
Cage me
By category
Tick me off your list
Make me invisible
Divisible by
What is not true
For I am
Another you.
Reclaim your Desire
This Holy Fire
This creative force
You're not seeing
Is what birthed you
Into being
Embrace your Passion
Let your tongue
Kiss the truth
With compassion
Proclaim your name
Without shame
You are not toxic
You are ******
Let your desire
Flower
Own your
Power!
We need to change
The conversation
Between this nation
Of women and men
Generations of trauma
Perpetuated
In the name
Of some sod
They call their god
Defy the lie
Don’t comply
With temptation
They control
Our needs
To spark their
Insatiable greed.
Don’t cage
Your longing
To feed your
Belonging
This individualistic
creed
Consuming
Subsuming
To fill the void
Left by
the ban
On Pan
Earthy
deemed *****
Horn scorned
Turned into ****
Scapegoated
Emasculated
Devil
Demoted
Goddess
Demeaned
Rise up
Open your heart
Resist the force
Tearing communities apart
Face your fear
Shed those tears
Cause a commotion
Release that emotion
Lets change
the agenda
That segregates
Our genitals
From gender
Refrain
Unchain
Shiv Shakti
Eros Aphrodite
Mars and Venus
Liberate your *****
Own your passion
Penetrate compassion
Don’t measure
Your Pleasure
By some
prescriptive
Fashion
Embrace your
Inner lover
Honour our
Earth Mother
Stop blaming
Shaming the other
Let’s form a union
Let love be the sacrament
The Holy Communion
For we are ******
We are the fire
Of Holy Desire
Let Compassion flower
Let the power of love
Banish the love of power
Nov 23, 2024
Nov 23, 2024 at 6:10 AM UTC
Dress up, small talk, smile pleasantly,
Sea of faces, people you hardly ever meet
Smirk and tell me I've changed so much,
Well, of course. You never bothered to keep in touch.
As an introvert,
it's actually exhausting for me.
All I want to do is run away
back to my lonely room,
I don't hate people,
I just can't keep up with the small talk.
A seperate bubble
segregates me, detached from the world of social pleasantries.
I am not shy or diffident,
I am just an introvert, comfortable with my inner environment.
What I have thought over and over in my head, what I have put into words in my little pocket diary, what is simple and crystal clear to me in solitude; totally gets muddled up in social situations.
Solitude is my peace. I take time to get comfortable around someone.
-Hello there.
-How are you?
-Nice. I left my phone in my room. I'll go get it.
(hurries by)
Mum: Are you hiding? They won't bite you, you know?
(sigh)
Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 2:58 PM UTC
After life
When
Soul
Segregates
From body
But
What happens
After that
Many are curious
Even me myself
Some say
Rebirth
Reincarnation
Or some say
Soul waits for
Fulfillments of
Desires
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 3:55 PM UTC
What things might come from the beating drums
Of feet stomping the dust
As cymbals chime with swords that fly
And clash like rain to pavement
What things might jump from the trump
Of a million voices shouting against one another
As the juice of life is squeezed out in strife
And blood covers the hand of many
What good will flow from ashen snow
As fire consumes and engulfs
And man sees not the face of the human race
But segregates himself from his brother
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
**** these seats
How close they are
Yet seem miles away
Make me that much further away from you
**** the arm rest
How it segregates
My body from yours
Keeping me from you
**** the dark
How it's never quite dark enough
For me to feel confident
And truly alive with you
**** the others
How they inturrupt us
And take your attention
Away from me
**** my hands
How they're sweaty and shake
Unable to take yours in mine
Cause I'm a coward
**** the time
How it slips away
Like sand in an hourglass
The sand is gone in the blink of an eye
And **** me
How I ruin everything
Like the chance to get close to you
I let it all go to waste again
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 12:09 PM UTC
Let me bloom into the Source
Let every microcosmic aspect of my whole me fold into itself
Let me be free of form
But fold into good company
May I love myself through all darkness
May I hate myself, but ask for
Forgiveness every time when I remember, and reclaim who I am
I am love, lust, and luxury
I am a powerful woman
Infinity; blissed into a dualistic formality
It evaporates, and segregates no longer
We are one
We get along with each other
Sister, brother
Father, mother
Beyond our blood we teach other
Intertwined in a love connection
Through sound alone we break an illusion
When we know ourselves
We know our wealth
When we breathe in our bodies
We indefinitely raise hell
Wake the dead
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 8:08 AM UTC
So beautiful, so safe
Makes you feel
At home, at hope, at faith
Makes you question the boundaries
Of the infinite beauty
In this world God made
As her surface radiates
But as the willow retaliates
And as the widow segregates
You see the resemblence
Of duality on her face,
In her eyes an infinite cold
The kind you would still embrace
Just to be blessed by her grace.
So you could die at least,
Again and again and again
Comforted you might feast
On her illusion of radience
Amongst the ones, she recognises not
Seen as just another self righteous,
Humbling, esoteric beast.
Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 9:36 AM UTC
Our world, though claimed to be enthralled in hues of green,
Resides in purgatory, an abyss that is not black and white, but sterile grey.
The horizon, seemingly bleeding crimson from the wounds that skyscrapers rip into the clouds,
Fades, into nothingness brought by with the darkness of night.
Not sunrise, because sunrise is rebirth,
But sunset, because sunset is expiration.
The taste of copper that used to flood our mouths
When teeth pierce skin,
Now dulled to bitterness that lingers in the corners of our lips.
The poison that we indulge in for instant gratification catching up to us,
It’s venom spreading through our veins, until it is as much of a part of us as is our blood.
Though it is not black and white, but sterile grey.
White emanates of weightlessness, insubstantiality, peace.
It is the lightness in your heart and freedom in your soul,
As your mind numbs to a point where you are free,
Yet somehow in agony.
White is the release we long for our whole lives, the simple
Pleasure of letting go and falling,
Simply falling.
Black emits of power, depth, and regret.
It is the ash that is the remains of the fire that had once burned and scarred,
Now dowsed with the ice water that is the harsh reality.
Black is the slowness of our movements as our muscles grow stiff
And you fall.
Fall back into the ocean that is our depression,
Comfortably numb until all air would have escaped our lungs,
And the void would have consumed us entirely.
And grey, the sterile grey that paints the walls of hearts and souls,
Is the gentle balance between both. That contrast, between
Day and Night, Love and Hate,
Peace and Chaos, Black and White,
Is our eternal fate of somber nihility,
The simple quiet that keeps our hands at work and minds at bay.
And yet, we long for more.
We long for pain, pleasure, the good, and the bad,
To fulfill our lust for things beyond the thin line that segregates our youth and wisdom,
And leaves us yearning for a choice.
Because perhaps, when the contrast between black and white grows too dense to bear,
The tightrope amidst life and death becomes the only thing we have power over.
And only then, perhaps, we have a choice:
A chance to escape the world that is not black and white,
But sterile grey.
Nov 5, 2020
Nov 5, 2020 at 11:19 AM UTC