Red

A colour has dominated the painting of a people 
A colour red
The colour isn't of excitement or warning but of aftermath
The colour has a stench
A smell of loss

And each day the painters keep painting the colour
On a group of innocents
Children, women and men without defence
Helpers too
To them, nothing matters but the point they aim to prove
And the scenes are live on stream

The world watches as the painter paints
And the grief fades as the children grow tired
A genocide

If I must

Poetry carries me through much in my life. It has summarised my thoughts, healed my blistered soul, satisfied my imagination and made me better at being human. I do not claim for a moment that I am fantastic at it, leave alone better than anyone at being human. But, poetry has been my blessing.

There have been many tragedies across the world. And many of these, have rendered me helpless; making me feel small and useless. Some are far beyond my effort, though still I have tried to do right. Some, have made me furious and distraught. Human actions, have caused all these tragedies. Actions we choose to take. Killing people. People who are children, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters. People who mean something to other people. And the world in its dark form, has become a hopeless place.

Palestinian Poet and Professor Refaat Alareer wrote a poem before his death from an air strike in Gaza. I can only amplify his words even after his demise. This is for the children of Gaza.

Photo credits to reddit

Black mind man

To be young, gifted and black
Oh what a lovely, precious dream

My face so dark
One with the sun
The son I once was
Running 'cross the fields
No thought in mind
Joy
Flowers 
Laughter
My heart full
My belly full
The sun gently kissing my skin
My words, of only gladness
A healthy idea at a time
Once a upon a time

Now, life has creased my mind
My skin still black
My bones, tired
No fields to run across
No time
Just many countless thoughts
Unhealthy
Uncreative thoughts
Of a black man in another world
Someone else's world
And memory is all I hold so dear 
Of how sweet
Oh how sweet it is-
 to be young, gifted and black.

Encouragement

*sigh*
You'll break
You will break

Like a clay pot too weak and too hot
Like the glass vase tittering on the edge of a rickety table
Your sanity will break
And your smile will fade
No matter how hard you try you will break!

Just take a moment and cry.
Break before you are broken
Feel before you have fallen
Speak before you are lost
Before the words fall too far from your grasp
Before you are no one
Just emotions 
Take a moment 
Cry.

HIGH

HI..

Everything's static
Pretty. Fake
The cars are not real
The town is not real
The air is an illusion
The time imagination
The lawns manicured
The lady prim and proper
The ghosts gone
The silence dead

And a bubble forms in this space
Where nothing breaks and nothing falls
The frame in shape
And the ink has stuck
Words in bold of shocking truth

"THIS TOWN IS FAKE BUT PRETTY TOO.
AND TIME IS REAL BUT NOT FOR YOU."

My words, my choice

I refuse to write into existence what i think anymore
The last pen I put to paper proved near lethal to my reality
My ink shan't be predictive!
Now, I have my thoughts and I choose to keep them in limbo

I will write of my moment in blissful joy
When the sky was calm and the sea as blue
I will write of the food never tasted to my tongue
Only imagined in my mind
I will write only of good things
Like the day first when I paid for a tea with a rupee currency
The day of when I spoke to life a hope that was long snuffed out 'fore I came along
Thousands helped
Purpose found
Life lived

I will write of life for I am alive.

First time I washed my hands.

The first time I washed my hands
My skin had been hot and tough
Like a leather hide; been through a proper dry
I had been used to the soreness by then

First time I washed my hands
My palms were so red, I could fill a cup with blood
By the prick of a spinning needle

First time I washed my hands
I'd never thought of the dirt 'fore that very moment
Let alone a balming oil

First time I washed my hands
My heart slowed down almost to a halt
And freely did my tears fall

First time I washed my hands
First time after a long time
My palms healed
My hands stopped shaking
And I knew then, that I'd needed it

My first audition

Oh how impossible to be an actor
I remember my first audition
I sat on that table opposite of my judge
I knew nothing then-
safe for the imagination of a smooth sail ahead
How naïve of me

He was so self aware
Or maybe a better actor
And I began my audition
The camera at me
Clapboard

"I am quite sentimental.
I like to love and to be loved.
I cried at the end of the titanic.
I like…"
And on and on I blabbered
And sighed after long a speech-
With pure intention

I had fully committed to this act
It was me
The character was me!
I had known very little about life but all about this character
He was me with a different name

My heart in my sleeve
My body in my feels
My mind in my body
My soul laid bare
And he said,
"Thank you, next."

I smiled.

Catfight

It ends poorly
Grim
Blood, blood and sweat
Good cardio-
but, blood, blood and sweat
It's a fight
It is a never ending cycle of a fight
Hurt get hurt and on and on
Black eye for a black eye
Left foot on the right cheek
Blow for a kick
Screams!
Grim!
But it's from pain
Pickled pain
Like Kudzu
Developing, growing
And around the pain, Donald the tree
Mindless of the goings on
Breathing, living
While two cats, fight for nothing
No gun pointed at them
No cause of any repute
Just fighting

How I feel

Standing in a vast field with a forest at the edge
A storm is coming as the clouds gather fiercely and rapidly
And I, still staring at the sky
From when it turned from blue to grey-
Dark grey
Everything around me falls apart
The people formerly having picnic breads and wine
Now Helter skelter
The birds that flew high and by now gone
The trees dancing vigorously to the wind
And I should run for cover
The thunder now viciously warning-
I should run for cover
But my feet are stuck
My eyes are fixed
I'm still staring at the sky
"Fix your state!" Shouts my mind
But I cry inwardly and still stare at the sky
And it pours!
Torrentially!
Tis only then that my feet carry me to safety 
And now it's too late
I am wet!