this morning isn’t sunny nor rainy;
just walk the streets the whole day moody,
dump, dump, dump, dump the thoughts
with every step weary;
neither the hills and nor the trees yours,
there are plans for every grain from rulers
and neither you are your own perception---
you are perceived on IDs,
the ten digit telecom numbers
and which belief system you were born into;
you are just a stamped document
and the face of a certain belief,
the one belief from among many sprouted
sprouted out of what, we forgot,
what was it, what was it that made them sprout
and to add, you are born out of a fragile body,
a body that has nothing more to add to the identity
than the textile mill’s different cut out
clothes
and the curves and flesh and nothing more
so you are nothing more;
your neighbor, your friend or anyone may,
yes, they may judge you for every turn of your
body,
for every step you put on earth and those not
put,
for you maybe, for them, imposing your belief,
don’t call your sibling the name your mother put,
yes, for that may reveal your intention of
imposing,
imposing beliefs others may not find familiar;
it’s a crime, it’s a crime to open your mouth
or live the only way you were taught to live
and where ever you sit, anybody, anytime
yes, anytime they will infiltrate your abode
through your ten digit numbers and IDs
you are fragile, vulnerable and confused
this morning isn’t sunny nor rainy;
just walk the streets the whole day moody,
dump, dump, dump, dump the thoughts
with every step weary;
some roots are calling,
roots that are spread under the sand
that run close to the earth’s heart,
to hear the hum, hum, hum, hum reverberating;
back to tree bark from branded nonsense,
back to river-side meaningfulness from
cutting-edge technologies
and even for this you may be labelled,
labelled as backward, foolish pessimist;
the irony of intellectualism reigns
and you as a person dumped…
this morning isn’t sunny nor rainy;
just walk the streets the whole day moody,
dump, dump, dump, dump the thoughts
with every step weary;
some roots are calling,
roots that are spread under sand,
that run close to the earth’s heart
to hear the hum, hum, hum, hum reverberating
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I can relate to the feeling so much. The beautiful poem acts as the mirror to reflect awareness with great depth. Love this.
ReplyDelete"roots that are spread under sand,
ReplyDeletethat run close to the earth’s heart"
Beautiful lines of a very expressive poem
Like how you've crafted this...
ReplyDeleteWow, this really is a wonderfully philosophical poem! So much depth, things to think about. Strong feelings well expressed.
ReplyDeleteVery clever, how this composition causes us to reflect and suggest a possible reward for that reflection.
ReplyDeleteThe repetition and rhythm really resonate in this poem - well written
ReplyDeleteI love the way you set up a space and then take the reader through it to arrive at the point. One has to work out for salvation every day. Philosophy of life goes hand to hand with the philosophy of poetry. Beautifully penned, as always, Sreeja!
ReplyDeleteThank you all... feeling blessed!!
ReplyDelete