The American Nightmare The American nightmareWhere children are murdered in their classroomsWhile the police wait outsideWhere black and brown people are murdered in broad daylightby police pointing guns at their backs and up-stretched armsWhere women are forced to birth children they cannot raiseMother and child fall deeper into chasms of inescapable povertyWhile rich white politicians…
Category: Original Poetry
Stand Still
How can a country be simultaneously the greatest country in the world and also need to be made great again? Our parents immigrated to this land of opportunity With dreams of success and happier lives Hopes of futures for their children That otherwise would not have existed Upon arrival, they quickly learned To work their fingers to the bone…
Family
Family Family wraps you in its arms From the moment you enter the world It nurtures your growth Consoles your tears Corrects your mistakes It guides your feet to walk the earth Family cooks your favorite meals And makes your favorite sweets It feeds your heart and soul with love It sings old lullabies that…
a silent goodbye
two children separated by a decade in time. their coexistence was at first like parent and child. the older one had spent a short life being taught unhealthy lessons punished for mistakes seen through the eyes of a tarnished mind lessons not meant for anyone of any age much less a child. in desperation he glued…
Who is Forgiveness Really For?
“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.” [Mohandas Gandhi] I have recently been perusing the old poems I have written, some dating back to my early teenage years. I think I have not written as much poetry since college, aside from one or two poems here and there. I have been…
Sounds from the Outside
Sounds from the Outside Even on the warmest nights I like to keep the window open For the slightest hint of breeze But mostly for the noises of the world That remind me that life is not in stasis That neither my feet nor my mind Are glued to the ground My heart is rejuvenated…
Resurrected from “The Waste Land”
Several years ago, I took a course on Modernism and Post-modernism. One of the topics of study was T.S. Eliot’s widely read modernist poem, “The Waste Land” (full text here). The themes and intricacies were so intense that we spent a solid three weeks reading, digesting, mentally churning, and understanding the poem. Three weeks may…
Orange Walls
Deep orange walls infused with the muses streaming through his trumpet Fingers pulsing what the soul is feeling Eyes closed for one sweet moment hips swaying slowly in the heavy, fragrant air Collective strangers bound by notes and lyrics heads nodding agreement Yea, that’s the feeling A couple dances her loose curls falling on his…
chaos withstood
A night that’s changing colors from the green of summer to the pumpkin cream of autumn leaves Brought to not quite bustling life by lights and glows from lamps and streets Seated in a tiny square a few stairs up from city feet, with lilies as the centerpiece So clean, they deceive the gorgeous grimy…
For Jyoti Singh Pandey
This is a poem I wrote several years ago. It resonates with me each time a tragic headline or untold personal story of a woman comes to the surface. Today, I dedicate it to Jyoti Singh Pandey, may your brave and strong soul find moksha. We Are My first lesson in gender inequality Came at…
immeasurable beauty
sharp is the contrast between brilliant blue heaven, soft and clear as powder on silk, and rugged golden rocks speckled with green spots that dripped from the paintbrush of divinity. salty are the tears that poured into the sweet earth which burned their feet and bore their fruit. lovely is the wind that lifted coal-colored…
The Lotus
A resonant chant sung by voices Rich like her roots Divine like the secrets of a goddess Devotional Pure Heard only by the soul tumultuous and yearning Behind closed eyes A sacred lotus Untainted by the dirty water it floats in Thus is she seated there on the floor where millions pass each day Breath…
pen . paper . storm 