It is time to liberate them and have the wings grown.
It should not be easy to divorce them.
Women are not captives or slaves.
Women are not for sex andbhoga.
Women are women, nari-shakti.
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Wole soyinka
Sings heWole SoyinkaAs an African,Of the Dark ContinentBy being the heartthrob,Heartbeat of it.On the telephoneDoes he the conversation,Talks he of the civilian and the soldier,Landscapes unfurrowedAnd contrastedIn a muffled and muted in voiceSymbolically aboutRace, ethnicity, colour and complexion.
The cheetah with slim body,
Printed spots,Slim and fastSaw I sitting.The beauty of the forest,The mystery of the wild,The miracle of CreationWas it the catSprinting through the forest.Cheetah, tigerly cheetahRunning, sprintingAll through the forestAnd the hillsBeautiful and picturesque.To see the tear-like streaksNear the eyes,The printed, spotted coat of itCovering itAnd it going.But the claw of it bloody,Bloody, brutal and bestialA…
A poet of Dorsetshire,
He is Lawrentine,WordsworthianSketching the thingsWith the personal paintOf human tragedy and loss.An Orwell,A Shaw,A LarkinHis is an anti-thesisIn revolt againstThe Divine set-up of things,Man and poor destinyAs assigned to him.A writer fatalistic,PessimisticAnd so individualisticWith a strange love forArt and architectureCombined with skill and trainingIn the same domain.
I saw you, saw you,
and never could I think it,Feel it,Take to myselfThat I would,I would fall in loveWith you,YouAnd after falling in,Falling in loveWith you,Started I loving you,Loving you so deeply,Deeply and madly.
Gender Studies,
She is a female child.
It is picnic time,
Jonha Falls calling,Calling me.Pack the bagAnd let us be toThe falls,Jonha falls.At the edge ofThe Ranchi plateau,Waters falling downFrom the hanging valley falls.Cascading waterfall,Pouring downwards,Crossing by verticallyAlso known as Gautamdhara falls.The frothy gurgling watersFrom the Jonha fallsComing down,Passing by as spillover.Pack the bagAnd let us be toThe Jonha fallsAs it is picnic-time.