Not poem

One page here one page there
Spread all over in home like pieces
Of my lost world
On this avalanche or altar where no drop of reliving
Remained, secured love dried like leaf on tree
You may congratulate my loyalty, still joined with them
I said cast off me, discard me, denounce me, humiliate me
Think dead for you! ‘cause I won’t wait thousand years forgetting
Death like you.
I hope my message reached to them or not?
Still they are like before, no change only smile or touching
My feet, or crying tears not remained true signs of arriving
Blooming Spring
they are also part of make believe play like shot by
Sham bullet for you or selfie
They expect may be I sleep on death – bed for less days.
Money – selling body holes to wash or on hire than sweat
Of moron honesty and confess before them your true
Bleeding emotions like inner morbidity they would listen
(Mock or ridicule how petty vulnerable, helpless you are)

Next to cheating or deceiving by clever or cunningness
So I tried to steal the swooning truth that fell on earth
So I never liked rebirth and same faces around me
I like a one day match or episode of forgetful story
Created on imagination and power of writer, like a dream.
Where inserted crying reality to prove ability of artist.
So I yelled in dream don’t deprive me of my rights
Tied my legs, trimming my wings of freedom of
Unlimited sky but nobody listen.
Castrated my bold masculinity to tell what I feel
Use their conditional orders
And then counts beats of Keats for points to win game
Of heart pain
So I yell in night apocalypse now! this island of apartheid
And apothecary.
Here everybody seems sad melancholy depressed suppressed
Twenty four hours singing forlorn love songs.
If somebody chasing, commenting and one day asking for
Dating and inviting to hold a stable hand ( they would grasp
It earlier was cute, hot dog smelling) but then they are not liars singing
Always sad song? they only need to prove they also have
Pain in heart and we know more about love look! how I
Wrote an ode to love in a thousand words.
Their mind never letting you enter in prohibited areas of soul
And this community of liars play this game in disciplined
Rules because they have to survive this game of gambling
Keeping money under pillow
Let the words play with willow
Here my power to reveal the truth has to walk on their lame support
Of prepositions
Where I stole the truth falling stranded in the street
tempting illusions that tried to victimize it behind a curtain.
I also closed my eyes wearing it and terrifying by death
As in childhood i feared darkness.
And ask him why you choose me as nominee?
Still I am not much grown up to accept death any time.

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Copyright © Shivaji Pandhare

Shivaji Pandhare is on facebook at:

Image Credit: Vijay Vaghela

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