Saturday, April 16, 2011


I struggle in this land of ruins,
resisting and thrashing out
against the shards of time
to survive.
I don’t see a moon
but some soiled clouds in the sky.
Stars are a few white scars.
Hunger, like a vampire
sinks its teeth on our stomach;
dried tears make a strange path
on the dusty cheeks of the children;
a rag doll, a top, chapped knees
and torn clothes
flaunt their missing childhood.
hiding many different sorrows
of diverse colors, of various shapes
among the folds of my sari,
 I wait for some food and a little place;
what do I care about your political beliefs
and all those rallies and endless promises?
It is none of my concern
if there is going to be a change!
What do I care whether I belong
to a temple or a mosque
or some particular land?
Cobwebs cling to the soundless words
of those freedom fighters,
independence is hung like a shabby old portrait
in a dusty desolate corridor.
What do I care for motherland and nationality?
Let me just live on this Earth
and mind you I am not alone
but there are several nameless
unidentified insignificant me
fighting to survive
to be called a human.


Rose said...

Heartrendering! Sad but so true. Dear Celest - you are a wonderful poet and you bring such vivid images to mind. Very well written :))))))

ayala said...

Moving and beautiful !

Brian Miller said...

heart wrending...yes there are many that see just the significance of being recognized as human and allowed to live with a little dignity and respect..great poem...

Anonymous said...

This is so sad but you have done an awesome job, excellent piece of work and touching!

Eileen T O'Neill ..... said...

Celestial Dreamz,

Your words echo a desire from so many people, world-wide.
Simply to be allowed to live.
I liked the words'cobwebs cling to the soundless words'....

Superb writing.
Thank you for visiting my blog too.
I have added your blog to my list!
Best wishes, Eileen