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mayur Oct 2020
though he looked calm
he was worried all the way
as his sons carried him on their broad shoulders.

the dead brahmin, finally smiled
as he was laid
on the funeral pyre
made of finest sandalwood 
from the forest around.

that was his last wish to his sons,
you must use chandan and nothing else.
don’t give me to some low-cast corkwood
even before sum of my deeds is calculated,
i know, on the pyre, it will burn me, to the hell.
cast has created division in indian society for thousands of years, it so deeply rooted that even today it still shows scars of past and deeds of presents
Orakhal Jun 2020
A
victims
line of sight

be
cast thru
its predators eye
anonymous Jun 2020
Yesterday I was black,

Today I am frightened,

Tomorrow I’d be lost.


I thought we were all humans,

A creation from God,

I didn’t know I would be treated differently

like a fraud.


Am I a ghost,

Why does everyone run?

I’m not a criminal

No, I’m human.

So, why do you point a gun?


Religion, class, cast

Black, brown or white

I thought these mindsets were in the past,

I thought everyone were finally all right,


But I guess I was wrong.


So I run, keep running

from this little world,

But I don’t know where to go,

How starved you must have been,

that my heart became a meal for your ego.
annh Apr 2020
Spin,
Mister
Fisherman,
Throw me a line;
A fluttering lure of burnished vowel chimes

Bait, braid and bailor - snap, swivel and fly;
Dub well your quill,
Hook me low,
Run me
High

‘The reality, however, is that fishing is about the closest you can get to physically experiencing poetry. It is a pursuit based on contemplation and solitude that involves an appreciation of the elements; it is a game of chance, hope, escapism; a step into the murky waters of the unknown. There is little difference between the angler setting forth on a misty dawn and the poet staring at the blank page. Both are hoping for greatness, but will settle for a brief silvery flash of the transcendental brilliance that lies beneath the surface.‘
- Ben Myers

Fishing parlance is a language as complex and arcane as the sport itself. What a happy coincidence to discover that a ‘quill’ in angler-speak refers to a float (or bobber). How ‘bout that? ;)
Jay M Nov 2019
Student
Racing about
Scattered here and there
Learning all it can
Then, somehow
Reading a work
So inspiring
A true keeper of knowledge
Hidden among them

Seeking improvement
Of works and self
But so occupied
Barely time for such
In a hurricane of stress
Pressure and emotion
Far beyond itself
The student tried
A deed so selfish
Then reflected
A work resembling the moment
Easing themselves in part
That it was released
But horrified
Of what could have been

Looking up
To their mentor
A keeper of knowledge
Held in high respects
But when seen
At the weakest
Cast away
As one of millions
But the student
Wished
Yearned
To be more than one of millions
Pleading to be taught
To be made an apprentice
Alas
No more
No more

- Jay M
November 6th, 2019
Bob Wax Oct 2019
fbc
I need a full body cast to amend my past
Keeps me from taking my own life
Suicide felt like the only way to make it right
It's been 2 years I still feel gone
23 should have never seen past 21
It's just a game, something I didn't want to play
Following through would have made everything okay
It wouldn't really have, I shouldn't have lied
It would leave behind a huge mess
And I would be dead still feeling regret
I need a full body cast to amend my past
Belinda May 2019
stop
acting
like you're
just a supporting cast

when you're
actually
the main character

get up
dress up
change the world
Toxic yeti Mar 2019
I went to the tattoo parlour
Hoping to get something
That tells my life
Story
Yet realistic and 3D
So I ask for
An ***** poppy
For I was misunderstood
For most of my life
Like the plant
Containing two huge
Pearls
For the two
People who understand
And love me
When society doesn’t.
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