I am a Jew

We were Jews, in a German neighborhood
pigs and swine were held higher
than  lives here around
We were spat  and pelted with stones
” **** off Judas”!! screamed Gwen
isn’t she just a toddler that played with Aliza around

Monday dawn Lieutenant  Miller marched in the house
with four SS guards
too young to shave
or act warm
with women and children in a Jew’s house

“A hour Mr. Abergel”, pack and leave
“this mansion is  allotted to Captain Schindler”
“and you shift to a ghetto”
two blocks away on 22nd street

With no relief from the venom
of Aryans, the true son’s of Christ
I clicked my case and lifted my son
as  girls cried leaving their rooms
their childhood faded in sight
as we left the house

We were punched the Star of David
as every penny was seized and Jewish live’s destroyed
“But look O’ Benji” mom cooks you soup
to cure the cough and sneeze

It snows a little as the engine coos
as the black coal hides in white snow
Like, Mein Fuhrer among blue eyed boys
See how civilization has declined

 

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Tale of a lost girl

Walk with me O’ son, let me tell you a tale
of Mr. Stewart and how he bailed
leaving me and you behind
I still 18 and you stillborn

We met in Mrs. Rosewood’s house
dark and dingy room, filled with ashes and smoke
set on a hill, on a damp Scottish dawn
as I shared the blanket and we kissed along

He, married twice, with both women dead
and I 18 fell for him and his ‘stache at first sight
But, Mr. Stewart plans were different
as he left me pregnant
and settled in Mrs. Rosewoods arm

In the midnight of 12th august
I rolled over the muddy floor in pain
hearing my roars and moans
neighbors called the wet nurses

She arrived and drew the curtain
I screamed at top of my voice
as you pushed and pulled
only to be stillborn with no beats or pulse

So, the day after you were born and dead
we buried you to the mother as we all wept in pain
but hush! It’s a bliss and tell none at all
that we still run merry’s and dance till we fall
O’ my son we will dance together
till I find my path to the place
where you reside

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Single Mom

She was a father and mother of two
as she swung us in her hands
till we slept, as she tiptoed
leaving for her day job in a grocery store
to keep us fed and our skins warm

Stronger than any man, In my life
I have seen her standing up-to crisis like Christ
and sing the sun with a grain of salt
She is a woman, yes she is my mom

Now the winter of her life has arrived
as shew grows white as the moon
and old as a coal
but still she refuses to bend for pity in disguise
the storms have made her brittle inside

In this man’s world
she was the leader of the pack
men who say women are driven cattle’s
stand up and look at my mother
in her 80’s, still leading with pride

 

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What is dead shall never die

It drizzled and crackled as I stood
near the tomb of the man, my father
dismissive and mocking, the old man
about his death and renaissance

“Who is born shall die” he said
but I, pitch dark inside
darker than the pit in which I will be laid
death can’t kill what is dead

And so one day in the alley near opera
his fingers dancing on the beats of brandy
pulled the trigger on a man and his wife
who refused to give up their money

Siren blew as he was dragged
gavel sealing his life to death
hanged till death, on November 8th
and I left orphan for the winter to come

So, now I stand in the graveyard
with white lilies and red roses
“what is dead shall never die” marked his stone
Old and alcoholic cussed him the world
but for me, his wisdom was the path
My father

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Show must go on

Whatever happens
I leave it up to chance’
breakups and heartaches
millions of failed romances

I guess i am learning
like a child in a class
outside the dawn is breaking
but inside my heart it’s still dark

I think of my hero’s and villains
one worshiped and other despised
but aren’t the hero’s aimless losers
and villains die with a purposeful act

But the show must go on
even when I am not alive
millions have touched this stage
and millions are standing by

 

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We met on sunday

We met on sunday
father and me
as he listened to me whining
about the darkness in the world and bloody fights

I spoke ill for the men behind
” Cast them to hell O’ father, that’s where they are destined”
speaking as I am the only dove left
In the nest of kites

” Father, O’ you holiest of all”
don’t leave me stranded, show me the grail
listening me beg, he turned his head
and laughed at me like a child seeing a clown’s face

“Why do you assume, I am clean and white?”
don’t you see, O’ son mine
I can either be all mighty
or all pristine

Benevolence is a synonym of imbecile
and kindness is a crime
No one wins on the throne of heaven
by exchanging roses and wine

Meeting Myself

Looking back in life
I laughed seeing my state
when I woke up all nights
just to plead her to go to date

I whimpered when I saw the teen
writing letters for her
and burying it under his bed
turning into a poet with million rhymes
and no lass to sing and play

I was dazed too
to see myself swinging to and fro over her
while she never felt the same
circling around her like a dog for bone
but her heart was brittle than a cold stone

My hairs defied the gravity
when I looked in the eyes
of the child I was then
innocent as a lamb, stubborn as as a thorn

Clocks turned and here I am now
hearts still broken and bloods still drawn
only now I have cut myself a thousand times
It doesn’t feel like a wound now.

 

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Let’s get lost

Am, I lost in the woods of world?
every leaf seems new and ever trunk unknown
and the path, uneven and wet from rain
It sinks me and draws towards it’s core
rather than sail me

But sail me where?
and why?
why shouldn’t I lie here in peace
or swing with the chimps and eat sour grapes
smelling the blossoms in the wild

So, should I tread or rest
let life sweep me in her force
and just for once
cherish the journey
rather than pitching for the end

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Curse of the inevitable

 

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I still walk in the garden by the sea
where we held our hands
blushing red and kissing near the palms
feeling the warmth in each others breath

But, today I stroll in this park
kicking cans and ripping flowers apart
waiting for you to come and hold my hand
are you late today or I am too dumb to understand?

The clock chimed as it struck 12
and my feet pulled me towards your home
“Meera”,”Meera” I shouted like a 12 year old child
but no one responded, is it your mother’s despise?

Mumbling and distraught I turned my back
but someone stopped me and held my hand
“Oh! Christie what happened to you?”
“Did a lightning strike or you broke up with your beau?”

She drew me close and hugged my soul
drenching me in her sob
“Sister is dead! Raymond ” she twisted my hair
her pain melted my anger and filled it with pain

Sobering her i kissed her forehead
and told her to comfort her mom, as I counted my footsteps
all the way looking up to him
and asking him ” why lord why?

So, now I still walk in the garden everyday
with empty hands and a could soul
but I never go past your grave now
as the living and dead meet and talk
laughing at each others plight

The frost has set

Glass freeze as wind draws her art
cris-cross hairy lines, alleys and streets
and the snow falls from dark clouds
bathing the shivering men and cattle’s alike

Charcoal lights the flames as old men sit by
smoking their pipes and sipping the vintage bourbon
sitting in a dirty old pub, where men have gathered
as Christmas eve has knocked by

Smoke fills the air as the engine coos
mothers, wives and sisters attired in their best
to embrace their son’s, husbands and brothers returning from war
some smiling and some overhauled

Now the frost has set, as families rejoiced
for the dinner and supper
but I have no one to love or despise
so I sit beside the burning oil till my ink dries.

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