Poems on "People"

Weaving Silence

a poem by Satish Verma

Do I have a choice
before knifing the page
for a meaning, when I was
drowned in a nostalgia?

Cinchona bark. This was my
keyword for living bitterly
under a tryant inciting
the riots of colors.

The digital death comes as
a reward for insane truth.
You turn the back on home
and walk towards the sea

to count the empty shells on beach.
Here life completes a cycle
from emptiness to emptiness.
You are ready to go in void.

(On the death of Steve Jobs.)

Grandma

a poem by Shubham Kamble

Her musky, aged, antique smell.
Every Wrinkle on her face had a tale to tell.
Cracks on her palms, treasured stories of hardships and struggles.
Walked with a limp, like a boulder on her shoulder back.
Didn’t fall even with the deepest toe crack.
I lay my head on her motherly warm lap.
Her silvery smooth flowing hair,
gleamed with pride for her only heir.
She caressed my hair, sent chills down my spine.
Don’t you worry grandma, down here everything is (not so) fine.
Wish you were there for me when I needed you the most.
I will be there in the stars, will meet you once I’m mighty close.

Woman and her struggles

a poem by Priyal Narang

Women are born with great powers,
She is a life giver and a miracle creator.
Women are very beautiful.
They are worshiped as goddesses.
They are as precious as pearls.
Yet in the end it is she who suffers all twists and turns.

A woman has the power to heal,
But all she gets for herself is so many ordeals.
Not a single day passes,
When women are not dealt with abuses.
They are molested or beaten every day,
Which breaks them from inside.
God, keep me safe today is all that they pray.
So tough is their life!

Every year we celebrate Women’s day,
But do we have the guts to say?
That there exists a small place,
In this big world,
Where women can be safe.
Where there is someone whom they can trust,
Who is not craving for lust.

All women need to be strong,
You need to overcome all fright.
Remember that you were born with might,
And you have to win this fight!

Because men will be men.
Their nature will not change.
It’s their mentality.
It’s you who need to be firm.
And show them the reality!

S-H-E

a poem by Lopamudra .

You and me were friends before
Everything you did I tolerated
In me the song of trust for you serenaded.
I am sorry for hurting you till the core

But what did you do?
You left me and broke my trust,
Left me and our friendship to rust.
Those were great times that we had spent
But whatever starts has to have an end.

I thought that you were a bit irritated
So the hope of peace inside me waited.
But you turned your face and changed your colours
Went and gave me away to others.

The darkness about you is much more than I thought
Or wait! Was it me with whom you exactly fought?
After a few days I expected you to be as before
But now, to me you are the biggest whore.

You took people’s support to maintain your position
But this is only because I didn’t take action.
Don’t think that I’ll still be waiting for you
Because people like you for me are nothing new.

And please remember that if I ignore you
Doesn’t mean that I’m scared of you.
Because if I start speaking
For you voice you’ll keep begging.

Humans or Puppets

a poem by Death Pawn

Who are we?
Puppets of someone,
Or Puppets of something.

Perhaps Puppets of something
Dreams’ desires
Lust’ greed
Virtuality of happiness
Reality of pain
Stupidity of emotions
Providing the driving force
To run the hollow, shallow system.

Maybe our assumption is wrong.

Perhaps its Puppets of someone,
With interesting, amusing expressions
Stalking you
Judging you
Watching fom sidelines.
Giving you choices
Giving you hope
With satire in the eyes.

Playing with a page
First line starts with birth of Puppet
Last line ending with death of Puppet
And leaving whole page blank
With satire of fireworks.

Maybe both of our assumptions are wrong
Or we can fill the middle blank page
With puppet of something
Completing the whole page
Completing the fate of puppet.

Homes out of human beings

a poem by Karen .

They say don’t put all your eggs in one basket
It’s the same with humans too, don’t ever forget
The more you trust only one person
The worse the pain when it all comes undone
Don’t fall for the charm, words and promises
You’ll end up alone trying to put together the pieces
Love yourself first; only then others embrace
You never know what lurks behind that innocent face
You can’t make homes out of human beings
They too are human – different outside, different within

My Men

a poem by Alok Srivastava

Living in a foreign land of aliens,
I desire you, I desire you, my men.

Men who are silenced by sunrises,
who make noises at car races.
Men who teach their children bicycle,
who make love like angel Michael,
I desire you, I desire you, my men.

Living in a foreign land of aliens,
I desire you, I desire you, my men.

Men who shed a tear for their neighbors,
injustice who fight with their labors.
Men who earn a living with justice,
who give up their lives with bliss,
I desire you, I desire you, my men.

Living in a foreign land of aliens,
I desire you, I desire you, my men.

Men who live with love in my heart,
who with patience wait for the Lord.
Men who wash their souls all the day,
who go to churches in order to pray,
I desire you, I desire you, my men.

Living in a foreign land of aliens,
I desire you, I desire you, my men.

More than you know

a poem by Sunil Rajagopal

Do you know me, sir?
I speak not of the colour
of my face and hair.

Do you know me, sir?
No, not by the tongue I speak
Or where I am from.

Do you know me, sir?
I meant not the name of my
God or what I eat.

Do you know me, sir?
Not by where I live and work,
Or my golden hoard.

Do you know me, sir?
I ask not how loud I talk,
Or my love of stage.

Do you know me, sir?
Not by how much I know and,
how fast I can run.

Do you know me, sir?
Never by what you think of
my man-woman-hood.

If you think you know –
This is but a bit, I am
more than all of these.

Know me when my heart
is in what I say and do;
By the paths I take.

I am how I treat
the old and poor, weak and meek,
And other men’s gods.

Know by how I let
my friends and better half fly;
By my dear folk’s pride.

Read me from thoughts in
my head, the flowers I smell;
By how I know you.

If you still must know,
We are all rivers that must
once end in the sea.

Growing up as a Butterfly

a poem by Tanvi Gadikar

Excited to get out of
My egg of childhood,
Willing to know
And travel this world,
Experiencing life
As full as I can.
With a bite of
Every problem,
I grow,
Better than yesterday,
A little to work
For tomorrow.
And with every new
Problem,
I get better,
Better in growing,
Better in flying.
Just like the people
Within my life,
I first crawl on
Those Green leaves
And try to judge
Their taste.
And then,
I eat them
With their sour
But admirable flaws,
And slowly,
I learn that
None of them is flawless
But everyone is different
In taste.
Then I notice
The stalk,
Of the plant
That I live on.
It is full of
Spines and Thorns.
And I also learn
To get past them
Without letting myself hurt.
But I am imperfect.
Some of them do hurt,
And hurt deep,
Leaving the scars
And the broken skin.
They are like some
Of the situations
I had to get past through.
And as I get hurt,
I heal,
And grow.
But
When I feel weak and exhausted
With the times I tried to
Embrace myself,
I cuddle myself up
Into a cocoon
With a promise to
Get up as a
Butterfly in the
Morning.

Sometimes I wonder whether it all matters

a poem by Devaki Purohit

Sometimes I wonder whether it all matters
The efforts, the suffering,
The hopeful eyes;
The prayers, the pleads
All asking for better deals
When all it takes for the privileged few
Is a flick of a finger or the click of a call.
Life is unfair they mercilessly say
Yes, ‘they’ are the ones who have it all
And the ones on the other side just wait and watch
Not all are silent though
Discontent brews through and through
Challenging situations and status quo
Organizing, agitating and questioning the power flow
Being the eternal pessimist that I am
I revert to my earlier question whether it matters at all
Structures and misgivings are so deeply entrenched
Easier it is may be, even mountains to be moved
Beyond social action, revolution, subaltern theories and all such paradigms
Lies a higher emotion which has been furthered by many a wise man
My humble attempt is to repeat it here
Not to copy, ‘plagiarize’ or claim authority mere
It is of love, love for humanity, love for each other
Look beyond social constructions which are but external
Do we recognize it, do we realize it… we are all of the same flesh
Are we willing then to keep aside our egos, our ‘positions?’
And come together by the virtue of our very being.

Free Flowing

a poem by Devaki Purohit

Walking down a winding mud path
A stone here and a stumble there
A virgin forest beckons me;
Beyond the meandering brook
Away from the city nooks
A people and their untouched forest
Beckons me;
Layers of trees, a rainbow of greens
A dash of butterfly wings
A forest deity, the people and their legends
All entice me;
The wilderness and the ‘Wild’ welcome me–
Unconditional and unreserved
Would my shiny world do the same, I wonder
My own thought mocking me, questioning me.
I trudge along the mud path;
Feeling like an intruder in a pristine world
I cannot give back what I receive, what I take…
Knowing also that I will never belong.
I halt at this thought.
Retrace my steps – back to my high rising world
Leaving with memories and a sense of loss
Loss of something I never had
Loss of something that never will be.
The virgin forest still beckons me
I make do with virtual view now;
Dreaming of another life
Where there would be no boundaries
No guilt of stealth, of intrusion
A life where I could flow like the meandering brook–
Unobstructed and free flowing!

Few people in my life

a poem by Sangeetha Mohan

Like each day’s dawn
People come and go in my life
But only a few remain permanent
Like the evening sky
Even when the wind doesn’t blow
And water refuses to flow
My heart will melt and beat for them…

My Teachers

a poem by Anu Pillai

Oh! my teachers,
You are the paragons of knowledge and love,
You are the temples of light,
You are the wings to protect me,
From the snares of life.

You are the one I can hold on,
You made me stand,
To show my breeding.

In distress and confusion,
You are a great force,
To turn on.

Teachers, I was your child once,
Can’t I be forever?
My teachers, let me take your footsteps.

Thank You

a poem by Ardhendu Bhatia

Between the Diwali shine,
In the arms of newly dressed bride,
Rambagh Palace
A couple of hours
With your hospitality
Became a joyful ride.

A journey embossed in our heart
Don’t think it will tear apart
With your tender smile
And your warm hospitality
The elegance and fragrance
Does mark up your beauty.

Thank you “Prarthana”
For all the pain you took for us
We wish you a great future
Which is obviously conspicuous.

The Farmer

a poem by Mabel Annie Chacko

The dawn is here! I climb the hill;
The earth is young and strangely still;
A tender green is showing where
But yesterday my fields were bare…
I climb and, as I climb, I sing;
The dawn is here, and with it- spring!

My oxen stamp the ground, and they
Seem glad, with me, that soon the day
Will bring new work for us to do!
The light above is clear and blue;
And one great cloud that swirls on high,
Seems sent from earth to kiss the sky.

The dawn is here, I climb the hill;
My oxen too seem to thrill-
To feel the mystery of day.
The sun creeps out, and far away
From man-made law I worship God,
Who made the light, the cloud, the sod;
I worship smilingly, and sing!
The dawn is here, and with it – spring!