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?

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.

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.

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.

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