And the critic too a surveyor?
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With politics to do,
The women, widows and childrenOn Human Rights Day,Refugees, daughters and those in flesh trade.
Not
Plugged into the earsFro musicAnd the mobile phoneHandset men,But the crow-hairedBlackiesOn the roads,I meanThe street loafersNot with the studsOn the ear lobesBut withThe crow-haired,Crow cut hairMistersWanting to beFashion designers,Stylists,Mr. Handsomes.
I know it
Divorce meLeaving me on the crossroad of lifeSo devastated and distraught,But how to give up so soon,End up?I shall keep fighting up to the endWith the newest, latest of survival strategiesTo support, support myselfAnd to survive.
Lawrence as a poet
Of birds, beasts and flowers,So casual and occasional,Eventual and non-serious.And for taking poetry lightlySpoils he his poetic genius,A poet switching over to fictionAnd endowing with poetic prose,Really, a dark genius.A poet of the ship of death,The dark journey of oblivion,He is religious in poetryA poet of the dark godsBut poetry is but verses to him,Tidbits,…
The young maiden in the hijab,
Went nearer to,Stood by herAnd kept marking her.It was love at first sight,Saw and fell in loveWith her.
Devadasi,
I can feel itNowWhatThe horoscope-makers,Astrologers,Soothsayers,Oracle-makers,PunditsDid to you,YouWhat the middlemen,Courtiers,FloristsDid to you,You,Devadasi?Your pain,Your pain,Devadasi,Devadasi,What theyDid to you,You,How,How did theyTake youTo the temple campus?