Please go through these poems, our masterpieces. Best Poems by We Are The Writers:
Table of Contents
THE POWER OF RED | Best Poems by We Are The Writers
Red is that isolated crimson color that travels through the sanctimonious valley of revolution
Red is the depiction of blood
Blood is the witness of myriad street protests, placards, deluge and devastation
She is also the colossal witness of birth, of care, of rejoicing,
She like an old friend has been a part of growth
She has seen a mother’s love and a father’s pride
She has been a part of heartbreaks and sleepless nights
She is a traveler within us, that keeps us alive
We accept her when there is the arrival of a new life
But we defenestrate and raise our eyebrows when she wants to be a part of someone’s adolescence
She screams her heart out and destroys the age-old wall of belief
With a cocktail of rage and anger, she creates a cyclone of realization
The cyclone gains speed when she remembers the abominable moments
Moments, when Aashi’s grandmother held her back, stopped her from entering the temple as her vagina was bleeding
The garland of marigold, which she stitched with love and care
Was discarded as a waste, as a sin
Aashi’s tears remained imperceptible, as she celebrated her Durga Puja through the caged window
They barred her from entering the temple
But they failed to bar 17 years old Sohail who tried to rape his cousin
As these moments continued to haunt her, her cyclone reigned the measureless land of voidness
She knows that one day her power will introduce everyone to the language of justice, of right, of equality
One day, she will be accepted as nature’s gift
And not as a demonic sin
PERIOD
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THE LAST OF US | Best Poems by We Are The Writers
I’m afraid this may be our last season together.
The plot-line was intriguing, the characters were passionate, the score was classic. There was potential.
Alas, the episodes were far too few and the leads didn’t get much screen time together.
The female lead was perfect in all her eccentricities, the male was lovable but there just wasn’t enough character development.
You could sense the chemistry, the longing, the affection.
There was a palpable will-they won’t-they in the air, but they didn’t.
The male lead soon faded into obscurity and the female went onto global recognition.
THE TREES HAVE DRIED UP | Best Poems by We Are The Writers
It’s a long, long journey. There’s no water and the trees have dried up. The Sun is angry. The previous companions have either died or left for greener pastures. The rations are sparse and the end is not in sight. It’s never in sight. You’d find a friendly face once in a while but no one tenacious enough to join this futile? endeavor.
There’s no one to blame for your decision. You knew things were going to be tough. But you still made the choice. Self-belief? Or foolhardiness. Only the end will reveal.
But,
Till then,
Trudge on.
I beg you. I think I speak from experience when I say you made that choice because you could do it. Our decisions come from a place of knowing. Feasibly, no one but you had the inner resources to accomplish this task.
You didn’t know this but we’re counting on you. Your triumph will set an example for years to come.
I hope this letter finds you.
Three gone, two more to go, Best Poems by We Are The Writers.
THROUGH THE DUSTY ROAD | Best Poems by We Are The Writers
And I came out from the dust,
Standing beside the road
Below a broken mast,
In a thoughtful mode.
Thought about the cars passing by
Blowing gases and dust on me…
Imagined, if the cars could fly,
No more dust and dirt on me.
Thought, if the fact, the pedestrians could see
And hoped to walk on the road in glee.
To make the cars, glide through the air,
Felt, “I was the Novice to novitiate it”
Being the da Vinci’s heir
On the matter, to start to initiate it.
For now, I see a Car
Approaching; monstrous eyes growing in size.
Leaving my thoughts behind,
I launched to run, run for my life.
In the end, the thoughts left to rust
And I found myself nowhere, back in the dust.
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YOU ARE | Best Poems by We Are The Writers
Going round the world,
I see you,
In every corner of it,
In each heart’s beat.
You are that,
In one, when the beloved is dead.
You are the origin of the tears
Of each pair of eyes,
You are the ground of the fear
Settled in, every living mind.
You are the blow of anger
From pieces of living heart,
You bring on the danger
When one is hurt.
You are the depression
And, the cause of one’s oppression,
On others and oneself.
The depression, the hearts forever hide,
Creates the thoughts to abide
By the laws, very vile.
But, you create the cause,
Of a good deed, done.
You are also the mind’s beat,
When a good deed is done.
You are the intellectual beat
When something is achieved;
You are the nervous beat
When a destination is reached.
You are the cause,
Of every fine and vile in the world;
I see you,
Going round the world.