Thursday, December 25, 2014

Merry Christmas!

What is Christmas for the poor man
Who cannot afford a Sunday Best
Or Christmas tree, gifts for his
Little ones who so fiercely believe in
Santa Claus?


What is this season of joy for the broken hearted
Who has been robbed of hope
And cannot fake a smile for the
Photographer’s capture of
The season’s true meaning?


What is this just-around-the-corner new beginning
When one is torn between
Political drama and promises of
Reduced prices, better houses and
Freedoms that will never be theirs?


What is the use of celebration
When there is nothing to celebrate
But the loss of life, of friendships,
Memories forgotten and
Lack of kindness?


What is this commercialized holiday
That was once a day of birth and prayer
To the mind that is skeptical
Of any higher being in this
Pitiful, miserable world?


What is the use of gifts, poems and wishes
Season’s greetings
When we can’t stop pointing fingers
And reconcile without
Pretending to accept and understand?


What is the meaning of ‘Merry Christmas’
Said in cheery voice, laced with wine and cake
When there is nothing merry about the days
But deaths occurring too frequently and
Winds blowing away houses, hope and faith?

Friday, December 19, 2014

Ridiculous

During his exploration
The great explorer
Young, arrogant and
Great seducer
Discovered that
Contrary to his beliefs
The stems he pulled apart
Were thorny
The petals he kissed
Were crushed slightly
And upon closer inspection
And insistent inquiry
He discovered that
The land he had chosen to
Explore
Name after himself
Had already been visited and
Revisited
By other
Great seducers
And that he
Certainly wasn't the first

The great seducer
Young explorer
Out of disappointment
Spat on those petals
Stepped on those stems
And called his object of desire of
A mere second ago
A shameless whore
And walked away with complaint
That no longer does the world have
Any pure females
Any virgins

And she found him
Absolutely ridiculous
Was thankful it had ended
Before he left his misogynist footprints
On her land
Call her his own
Claim sole ownership
Due to seduction, discovery
First to toil
Virgin soil
And she smiled to herself
For whore she maybe
But a happy one
And yet, she couldn't help wonder
Why female who lay with man
Numerous
And not husband or
Husband-to-be
Was whore
But man who lay with
Females numerous
Females unknown
Even men, in secret
(Who knows? She thought)
Were not whore or slut
But
Prized possession
Trophy
Great seducer
Experimentalist 
Scientist
Anything but a whore.

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Revision

Stop asking me to change

Stop asking me to be a person

I am not and will

Never be

You say it’s me you like

But your words are a lie

For you don’t like me

You like changing who I am

Take the flesh, skin, tissue

The blood, words, thoughts

And alter, edit, redo

You’ll have a twenty year old female

But you won’t have me

You say you like me

But you like a revised version

Much more

What is wrong with me?

Am I undesirable?

Tell me what is it about me

That tugs at your mind?

Is it my looks,

Size or hair?

Is it the way I dress

Or behave or speak?

My thoughts, then?

My words?

Hobbies, interests?

My principles, values

Beliefs and morals?

What is it about me

That tugs at your heart?

Is it me, the person

Individual?
If so,

Go find the person

You have in mind

Leave me alone.

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Father

He chose to
Work in faraway land
Earn money
In order to feed
His children
The sweetest of fruits
The richest of food
Even though he was
Never going to be
Part of their childhood memories
And he knew
Deep in his heart
His children were not to blame
For who would remember absent
Provider of comfort and luxury
Instead of
Parent present who
Offered love
and care.

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Dear god (if you exist)

Why do you insist on
taking the good guys
and leaving their loved ones
with immense grief and pain?
Why do you not listen to
the prayers of the poor
the kind people who
are helpless and in need of help?
Why do you only perform miracles
with the lives of people
who can afford to pay for
a miracle?

Is it because you are selfish
and want to keep
the best of your creations to
yourself?
Is it because you are cruel
and don't want us humans
to have an angel
among us?
Is it because you know no joy
and don't want us to
have what you
don't?
Is it because you are
not the forgiving, merciful
and kind omnipotent being
you claim to be?
Don't expect me to
believe in a god who
can only take away the
good people
and give the bad ones
years of life
the good should have been
awarded with

Don't expect me to
pray to a god who
can only listen to the prayers
of the welthy
and who can add to their puja
enough money that could
buy a poor man a
few more years
of being alive