Standing up to injustice is the only solution

‘That you, in the dim coming times,
May know how my heart went with them
After the red-rose-bordered hem.’ —W.B. Yeats

The roads are littered with gold, they said
Hard work and belief in oneself if one possess
Enough to make a new life, they merrily proclaimed
Come one and come all, we will all progress

El Dorado it was not, didn’t matter to folks
A hard working lot, they not afraid to work
Melting pot of civilizations, they wrote the songs
Built roads to carry produce, beef and pork

New immigrants not like us, they say it’s wrong
Coming in hordes stealing our jobs and bread
Something is rotting in heaven, stench is strong
Skeletons brushed under the rug poking their head

Time to stand up, trouble brewing in the horizon
Standing up to injustice is the only solution


This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Thirteen

 

 

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My mistress, till death do us part

Away, come away:

Empty your heart of its mortal dream.’ – W.B.Yeats

Seducing me at every step

From the moment of grand entrance

Alluring mistress are you

Promising to keep me company

Till death do us part

I fell into your trap many a times

Weak of mind in moments such

Seduction irresistible to come away with you

Dreams of afterlife, mysterious unknown beckoned

How must you be disappointed with my betrayal

But my sensuous mistress you did know

I have promised myself to someone else

To life, with all the sufferings and pain

I have promised my heart and soul

And when the time comes, as promised

I will leave this body to you

Till death do us part

My mistress

You are no mystery to me

I embrace you with open arms

Death, my eternal mistress

Let me go away on my terms


This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Thirteen

 

Morning Bloom

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Photo by author:Nov 12, 2017

‘He made the world to be a grassy road

Before her wandering feet.’ – W. B. Yeats

O’ morning bloom

Cheeks turned lovely pink

Gently touched by rising sun

One look at nature’s boon

All it took

To shrug off the gloom

 

O’ morning bloom

Fill my heart with joy

Banishing dark, gory mood

What a joy to behold

Your smiling, radiant face

Warming my heart

Driving away chilling cold

 

O’ morning bloom

Spread the joy all around

For a moment

Give us hope

Push away thoughts

Of dawning doom


This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Twelve

How many more moons

‘Where time is drowned in odour-laden winds
And Druid moons, and murmuring of boughs,’ – W.B. Yeats

Rains have stopped long ago
The river shifted
Land under deep water, now
Caked mud  and mass of shifting sand
Million moons have passed
Monsoon and drought
Everpresent harrowing floods
Curse of erosion, a
Constantly changing landscape
Amidst the hardship
Life moves on
Chanting and dancing
Music and culture
Living monasteries
Cycle of life
Constant struggle of
Destruction and construction
As the dragon to the north
Dreams ambitious
To throttle the life line
Turning enchanting island
To lifeless desert
Simple souls carry on
Oblivious of the fate
That may soon befall
How many more moons
How many more moons
Only time will tell

Image result for image of majuli river island
Image of Majuli Island from Google


This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Eleven

Darkness as the sun shines

‘And he saw how the reeds grew dark
At the coming of night-tide,’  W.B. Yeats.

Darkness as the sun shines
Vultures are circling ready to dive
Sun hidden by their wings
Hyenas surreptitiously closing in
Beacon of hope to entire world
Crawling back to the womb
Alternate facts eviscerating truth
Enemy within us ready for the kill
Party time for the vultures and the hyenas
Smirking their lips
As darkness creeps slowly
On the land of the free
Swamp reeks
Home of the braves held
Hostage to fear and lies
Drain the swamp, yes
Start at the top


This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Ten

 

 

Cursed forever to a life wronged

‘Troy passed away in one high funeral gleam,
And Usna’s children died.’  – W.B. Yeats

Thou shalt bear the fruit of love
Thous shalt bear the fruit of passion
Thou shalt bear the fruit of lust
Thou shalt bear the fruit of the demon
Thou shalt bear the fruit of rape
Thou shalt bear the fruit of incest
Gave her the boon of motherhood
And the strength to bear the pain
Took away her freedom, freedom of choice
One that cursed her forever to a life wronged
Must be the One created by man


This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Nine