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Epic Freedom Poems | Epic Poems About Freedom

These Epic Freedom poems are examples of Epic poems about Freedom. These are the best examples of Epic Freedom poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ballad | |

Crying River

Crying River (The Untold Ballad) 

Undercover waters of rain dashing
The children are cold, no longer splashing
Tragic sobs, epic force of the mountain rain
Beautiful as it may seem, -shallow basin 

She cries, a tune, 
Mocking the Maple lands, a beautiful tune
Crooked Cornwall, she steams with the moon
Oceanic dreams, monsoon season, she swoon's
Frozen, dead, ice skating rink
Her winds, Pretty Chains O' Lake 
Wet and Wild, the Elk drinks from its garden
Water falls from the lids of Jordan
Beautiful as it may seem with open curtain

When the ocean succeeds away from the sea
She's awake during winter's rain torrents and breeze
Lost in the mud's of Bellaire's heartache,
River Blues, icy cold naps, bayous shutting up
Racing rivers crying by the western gutter
Silent, bells chime in the Black Mallard waters
Streams, blowing and drying dew droplets
Little rapid tears, everything spotless
Sugar, Swan waves down by Devils Creek
Listen to the thunder bay rolling deep
Beautiful as it may seem, she weeps

A northern world with streaks of falling rain
Pretty running white hair pane
A weather vane, snow dangles above her domain 
Beautiful crying winds
In the Eyes of Michigan

~SKAT~


Details | Epic | |

Pledge of love and loyalty

This pledge that l,Ntando, make today serves
as my guideline that I shall follow
happily, ungrudgingly and tirelessly
for the sake of our love life.
Indeed l am well aware of the fact that
the beauty of this pledge does not only lie
in word alone but in action as well.

For that reason in every season
I shall show steadfast commitment
to the implementation of this pledge
with a great deal of astuteness.
I therefore commit myself to be your
devoted and delivering husband for
all the years l shall live with you
on this earth.

I shall treat you with the love and care
you deserve as my wife.
Indeed l shall treat you with
the distinction and dignity
that is befitting of the queen of my heart.
That body, that bone, that breath
shall be my mine to treasure,
for sure;
a dearness to promote and protect
for dear life…and love!
I shall stand by and with you in all the
situations of our life.
If the situation demands that we sail,
sail we shall together.
If the situation demands that we
climb,
climb we shall together.

I know very well what l am getting into:
I am getting into a marriage that is
overflowing with blessings.
This marriage- with our mutual
commitment-
will stand the test of time.
I know very well what I am getting into:
I am getting into a relationship that
brims over with a transforming power
of love.

This marriage-with our
mutual commitment –
will transform naivety into maturity
troubles into challenges
pretence into practice
pride into progress
bachelorship into companionship.
I pledge to be your steward and partner
for all times.

I shall value the consultations
and decisions that we make as
husband and wife.
As head of the family I shall do nothing

 

to derail our love train for anything else
least of all for personal and selfish reasons.
Now and forever

I am your lawful and loving husband…
This pledge that l, Nothando, make today serves
as my guideline that I shall follow
happily, ungrudgingly and tirelessly
for the sake of our love life.
Indeed I am well aware of the fact that
the beauty of this pledge does not only
lie in pronouncements but in practice
as well.

For this reason every season
I shall demonstrate untiring love
and loyalty to you;
a love and a loyalty that is a living
embodiment of our marriage vows.
I therefore commit myself to be your
honouring, supportive and loving wife
for all the years l shall live with you.
I shall treat you with the love and care
that you deserve as my husband.
Indeed I shall treat you with
the dignity and nobility that is befitting
of the king of my heart.
On my mind it is always fresh
that I am the flesh of your flesh.
Green or grown

I am the bone of your bone.
I know very well what I am getting into:
I am getting into a relationship that
elevates me into a kingdom of wifehood.
I shall endevour to put my family first
with all the rights, obligations
and privileges that come with wifehood.
I shall endevour to wipe off and ward off
loneliness and lostness from our relationship,
seeking nothing but your companionship;
banking on your stewardship,
sinking together any hardship.
Since you are mine
I shall not do anything else to undermine
our relationship for personal
or egotistical
reasons.
Now and forever
I am your lawful and loving wife…


Details | Free verse | |

FREEDOM OF THE WRITTEN WORD

Does not the pen yield its ink unto the bare page,
For expressionism to spill forward expelling inspirations
Liberal curve, it’s the power of freedom of speech is
It not.
How many have died for what they believe in,
What weight in blood soils, have these brave
Individuals has cost in life’s causes of the justice
And righteous.
These voices sounding can be heard even though
The flesh flame has been extinguished, hope light
Flickers in the darkest corner of silence, and it’s mighty
Winds wave can still be felt amongst the living.
Know one stands alone in a justified cause, if the truth
In the written words is spoken out loud, and is proudly
Bared by the author.
The next generations seeks our kindling fire, to inspire
There small embers to burn more brightly let us encourage
Such raw fuel to ignite, not smother it by smug self righteousness.
Set ablaze the pages of the future generations, let their inspirational
Spark spread, setting the very heavens a fire with enlightenment's torrent.
In this world we are given the gift of speech, thought, and wisdom,
For what other reason but to share the best of ourselves with others,
It is the gleaming light that sizzles in the eyes of the human spirit,
And severs us from the beast of the fields, and it is called Intelligence,
Compassion, and the freedom of speech.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN




Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 


Details | Terzanelle | |

An Epic Battle With A Simple Question

A beautiful heart pines from afar. To parallel freedom, we choose our master. In Love, the Dragon and Unicorn are! Celestial winged heart beats faster, Over mountain and ocean meet polar eyes. To parallel freedom, we choose our master. Embarking from sun brewed and moonshine skies Two alien races, in war, collide. Over mountain and ocean meet polar eyes. All brothers' swords raise, marching with pride. Sisters of heaven let feathers fly. Two alien races, in war, collide. The angered clouds rain blood from the sky. A new path finally found. Sisters of heaven let feathers fly. Brothers' swords low now to the ground. A beautiful heart pines from afar. A new path finally found. In Love, the Dragon and Unicorn are! In universe Out bound energy Where are we when we die?


Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 29 /Many


Patradoot or The Messenger29 /Many 
  
English version by  Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor


These young boys and girls,  were brought up,  
By their parents, with great love and affection, 
Now they are mad, in love for their motherland,
To show the splendors of their youthful energy.

They are ready even to sacrifice their heads,
What to say of body pains and tortures inflicted on them, 
By seeing such fearlessness and energy of their youth,
Even the enemy gets ashamed of, dear letter.

Triloki was one of these young boys, 
Who happily took bullets on his chest, dear letter,
And kept on moving ahead without withdrawing,
Keeping the dignity of our nation and Satyagraha.

DESCRIPTION OF MY CITY ALLAHABAD

You will find my beautiful city Allahabad,* 
In an ecstasy and full of rapture, flowing in it’s air,
When you will move on its roads and streets,
Along with the Postman, dear letter.

Ravindra

Kanpur India 12th August 2010                        to continue in 30

Clarifications:

* Allahabad		Also know as Prayag or Triveni is the most ancient city
                                    of India, where river Ganga and Yamuna now meets at
                                    the holy place called Sangam.


Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around  1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. 















  




Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Freedom within Me

I know some brothers who would never see the streets again.  But then
again......"they are still free.."  I seen a lion in a cage at the Zoo, and he
had a sad look upon his face.  Capture from his environment and then
his anger is much to the roar of his raged.  But if one is not careful, the enemy will
steal your joy and lock your mind as well as your Spirit into such a rage of
indignation that it will make you feel consume to a cage.  "They are still free.."
Animals unlike humans have an objective desire to feel free, so they can roam
and expose themselves in their habitant and be free, and survive off the land,
the land where God privileged is purity and where civilization is his creative app-
roached of Vanity.  
"Let Freedom Ring," and if one take within the fallable cauces of the value of love
and survived the punishment of time.  "Then only for a little while one will domin-
ance over the viles of their crimes and still be______Free.."  {for} GOD knows the
inside of your souls, He knows why the birds flies south to escape the frozen tun-
tra of the nothern shores.  "They have ascertain a course of nature and rest on a
branch of the tree..{!!}.."  "They are still free."
But do you or I...inmates as they call-out and shout your name in an attempt to
make you feel like you're never to return.  Some are litino's, some are mexicans,
Indians and blacks or whites, doing a mandatory ten, but still lockup, for life is
hard in the pen and if it excells you to self-esteem yourself, "count it to the good
as a lesson learned..(??).."  Because deep in the very pit of me, beats the inner
roar   "Freedom Within Me'like the cageup lion and I could never be free if i make my home and ly alone
with that which now controls thee.  Stand to your feets, and show that you are strong
and have Hope.


Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them


Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!


Details | Epic | |

young American days


              
                   To be in a young America ~
           visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
               the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
             in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
      celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July 
          
             thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen 
                films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
        Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
       The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain

             exciting new visions of creating new concepts 
                 before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
           songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
               surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see  

          The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
             every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood 
         American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
            Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
 
         The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
             Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
        When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom 
             How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?

             When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles 
                 Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream 
             leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
                cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time 

                      Cereal being a cheap snack for after school 
                         school supplies costing twenty dollars 
                      Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty 
                   before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~

                         2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp 
                Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
        a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question 
         The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice 

               Never forgetting our Motor city  
                 Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
                  The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye 
               

                     What happened to us ?  Where did America Go ? 

                   

         
  


Details | Blank verse | |

he is leaving home

                            
                  In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
                       as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores 
                      for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `

                    Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
                       The red album, The blue album , The White album 
                        Then .. Abbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
                  Ringo's face ,  something hard to understand underneath~
                       
                      I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
                    the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears 
                    For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one . It wanted silence

                    Going back ..remembering when John Lennon died 
                      I was in Arkansas saddened with the world .
                      Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it " 
                      No .. this was not my hero in music and song .

                      he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes 
                      bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss

                       One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
                       The other identity hidden, tried to be part of ..coming together
                                                                                                                                                                        
                            his  world of secrets
                        He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
                       
                        Too many years gone by .let us tell the Truth. Let us be free
                         The very sad long and winding Road ~
                         Let us Bury our real Paul. 

                         No more " Mystery tour "
                             No more fear 
                                Let him be in peace ~


           Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "

                






Details | Verse | |

I Don't Hate America

I Don’t Hate America

I like the country I live in
That doesn’t mean I have to sing their songs
to prove that sh@!.
That doesn't mean that 
I can just can’t get over the fact that
they murdered the people who built it
 
America was dedicated to a proposition that
“all men are created equal, except
for women, indians and blacks

The white men were just fine is what we were told 
but what about those who were stolen that never made it over to NEW WORLD?
The ones that were thrown overboard and
those who died from sickness while in transport

Remember those who were born into slavery and never even knew what freedom was before their physical bodies left
and people like Thomas Jefferson
He understood that slavery was wrong but did not free his own until his death
What about those who beaten senseless and burned, and hanged,  
All while screaming “Nigger" What’s your new name?
Oh how soon do we forget…
That’s why I despise that word and
I don’t care who it is that uses it
#u$k that slavery sh@!
And #u$k that flag b@%ch!
#u$k you America because you’ve always made things hard .
So don’t look at me strange when I show those songs disregard and those fake ass patriotic undertones about how we are the land of the free
more like the land of the captured and the Home of the Slaves, see

I don’t’ hate America
I can be and do and go as I please
But, then I remember the poor people they injected with disease 
They thought they were getting free health care but the doctor is giving them syphilis 
Please! 

I remember the natives of this land
They slaughtered and labored them to work for freedom in their own land 

I remember the Civil War 
where we were a country divided by the Mason Dixon Line
The north and the south of the same country at war to save lives
 
I don’t hate America
This is my home 
But I refuse to let the things that 
my ancestors endured during the struggle of building SUCH A FINE COUNTRY be forgotten
It’s 2012 and the politicians still plottin to find a way to take away the black vote 
It’s the same shit, but now they just don’t use the noose to choke the life out of souls  
I’m so tired of the constitution and it’s loop holes, and amendments, and acts, and laws
This just proves that man can’t govern themselves because even with all these rules we constantly fall into the black hole deeper and deeper
I don’t hate America
I just choose to not take part in its little song and dance
I pledge my allegiance to God 
and continue to write and lose myself in my poetic trans 


Details | Epic | |

THE BADLANDS OF ARIZONA

The wilderness in Arizona during cowboy days was for the adventurous to journey far away from their home front into the great divide where wolves and coyotes could take their lives.  They were skilled hunters and master trappers that could spot a prairie dog close ready to go up their trousers.  With two horses in travel, one for each, one would take a break to stretch a bit.  The mountains appeared as a majestic landscape.  Cowboys had made it to the badlands today.

Their journey for the common good and to find new country brought a mind-set and a certain hunger.  Never to be dissuaded, even when one got discouraged, they will conquer their demons and be triumphant from their troubles.  As they camped at night, they spoke on destiny.  The altitudes they had to sustain were just an achievement once claimed.  Why ponder on what could be lost when they came to summit?  The acmes they face now.  He stands to see the apogees and views the mountains before proceeding.

Cowboys in the badlands are oblique.
Cowboys in the badlands are circuitous.
Cowboys in the badlands are seekers of faith.
Today is a day not to abandon.
Two cowboys will become jovial and rich.
Cowboys in the badlands are self-fulfilled.
___________________________________|
PENNED ON OCTOBER 09, 2014!


Details | ABC | |

Freedom

I am a Jewish boy 
I wonder if I will ever survive 
I hear people screaming and crying 
I see skinny people with shaved 
heads 
I want to see my family 
I am a Jewish boy 
I pretend to smile 
I feel very scared 
I touch something that feels like a 
rock 
I worry if I will ever survive 
I cry when I see dead bodies 
I am a Jewish boy 
I understand someone ought to die 
I say people will survive and 
freedom will come 
I dream that I will survive this 
catastrophic event 
I try to save other people 
I hope for freedom 
I am a Jewish boy


Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: II

Invisible chap
Bearded egomaniac
Probably not real


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Freedom Uprise

We will not ride alone on this momentous journey. 
We will ride gathering our numbers, from the great mountains. 
We will travel to the valley of rivers, towards the great ocean.
For we have a great army.

Those who enslaved us with their power, stand on the top of the hill.
They stare down over the army below.
An army of vengeance we have gathered.
We will ride to the battle field at the great buildings.

Our intent is to wage war.
Fear will not take us.
You are weak supremacy, you will die by the sword. 
You will die by the hand of my fellow warriors.

This is war.
Blood will be spilt. 
Men will draw their last breaths as they fall back onto mother earth.
Mother Earth will soak up the spilled blood of our brothers and sisters.


We will be fierce and haste not.
We the suppressed will not retreat.
We the people will rise, with swords and fists. 
We are ready to die for what is equitably ours.

This is not an illusion. 
The fight against the money mongers, the powers that be.
Those that hold the power, will feel our angry wrath.
None will go unscathed.

We will watch the blood spill in and about the great buildings. 
Down the concrete stairs it will flow, rich, deep cherry red. 
Into the green of the grass, it flows.
Fear will choke your breath.

Reflections of your past, rushing before you. 
Thoughts of the dead, invade your mind.
Hollow is the cry of war, as we charge ahead to fight the battle.
To take the final stand, to give it our all.

Justice will reign by the sword and the all mighty hand.
Judgement day has arrived with this great army gathered beside us.
We will ride, steadfast into the fray.
Make no mistake this day will come upon the powers that be.


Details | Concrete | |

DISTURBED CREATURE- Am I

A poem wrote by me, based on Person who is a deserving icon but still struggling hard with his career life and addressed as disturbed creature.

DISTURBED CREATURE--> Am I ??       BY Mrs.Madhavi Suyog Pagare

Am I so insane, Am I so mad,
Dramatic mood of mine is so die hard.
Destroyed my peace, Shattering my dreams,
People call me as disturbed creature.
As like mounting the pain, attenuating the drain!!

Digesting my feelings lying inside me,
Strangely nobody cared, call me sick.
Teasing me lavishly and my heart is pricked,
Hurted me like hell when addressed me as stupid.
As like showering rain, missing on the lane!!

Time lapse in journey of life,
Can hamper anybody on its path.
When I see innate reflex of mine,
I always use to brightly shine.
Though possessing every job attributes of mine,
I never thought the authorities will ditch and hamper my career line.
Falsely acting bloody swine, making my image as fade as wine.
As like affecting harmonious divine, my soul was, as is transparently pristine!!

Destroying me and testing my patience, Never wanna give up.
Transformed deviations, wanna rightly screw up.
I wanna raise up, I wanna shake up.
I wanna wake up, Tranquilize my mind.
Unzip the professional life compressed by the culprits.
Wanna explore myself, driving the motivated heights of journey.
Lastly waiting for the optimistic opportunity.
Cuffing the suspect ,I wanna rejoice by my pattern of life!! 

with Suyog Pagare


Details | Free verse | |

Ridiculous Me

Watch this scene with both eyes and try not to blink C: --> 

I stood there... silently
Like a predator near prey 
I sneak behind YOU

You weren't even aware of it!! Ha-ha! 

I made YOU jump hIgH
Like a startled hare
I chuckle and smile

You know that mischievous smile of mine? 

Your reaction was
PRICELESS - you were so upset
But YOU forgave me

Well...I'm flattered. . . 

We laugh'd together (just like the good times)
In a chorus - our volume
Picked up extreme sound

Believe me - I could hear our laughter from a mile away!

But I'm glad I did
My best to make you giggle

Ridiculous me... 
Wouldn't you agree?


Details | Rhyme | |

Black and White

You’ve maddened me to the core 
You singed me with your ferocious fire
We’re opposites… we’ll never integrate  
We can’t blend with each other…
Your love and I’m hate 
We’re contrary to each other…

So don’t even think about 
Getting us back together 
Because without a doubt, 
We don’t click with each other…

So let us go our own way…

Everything’s black and white
You love to torture me with your deceptive devices 
We’re playing this chess match – let’s fight!
Tonight, you’re going to pay the prices
You’re going to be deleted from my mind…

I’m not the one that should pay the price
You act as if you’re an angel from heaven
But, you’re a fiend…a devil from hell...who needs your advice?
Could someone unchain me from this prison?

So let us prepare for that day…

Fear and bewilderment build inside of our minds
Taking over us…we’re wasting valuable time
Terror and wrath injects into our veins…time starts to unwind 
I’m regaining my glory…this moment feels so sublime  

You think you’re innocent?
I can sense your guilt…bleeding through you
Do you live to feed me anguish? 
Don’t deny it…you crafty demon…no wonder I feel blue

Let’s get ready for battle…
I’ll watch you decay…
IT’S PAY BACK TIME . . .
Taste my fury and my agony 

Everything’s black and white
You love to torture me with your deceptive devices 
We’re playing this chess match – let’s fight!
Tonight, you’re going to pay the prices
You’re going to be defeated…

I scream before nightfall
I close my eyes to kiss my demise
I want to disappear 
Scratch away my desolation
Wipe away my tears…
Spewing out of my eyes…like a waterfall
Tonight, there will be dismay
There will be suffering 
After sundown…
Failure and glory will expose like stars in the midnight sky
Who will earn the crown? 
No one knows in silent wars – who can reveal the light in goodbye
  
Why are we black and white?
Are you too afraid to know the reason why? 

Everything’s black and white
You love to torture me with your deceptive devices 
We’re playing this chess match – let’s fight!
Tonight, you’re going to pay the prices
You’re going to suffer alone…


Details | ABC | |

The Vent

im livin in a world, where all eyes on me.
trying to curve my own route.
but route 66 keeps finding its way to me.
ive been plenty sick, in all the events layed before me.
even when i reflect to my lowest points
i dont regret any of the choices
That I’ve deployed in my era
A lot of it by error, but hey
We live in hell conditions and there ain’t no air condition 
Or any guidelines when life throws you in the sidelines
But when hindsight twenty twenty hits
You’ll begin to understand life’s a bunch of equations and you in the mix of it
An you’ll have to think twice, before running into a situation and becoming the best of it
Situations
it’s what got me here, it’s what got us here
Ran with my thoughts blazing up to her place and
Guess what happened next
She opened up heaven’s gate
And just before late I slipped out
Simply put 
I’m a Grown ass man
Doin his thing, waitin to blow up like an old land mine
In doin what he drools over
But time after time 
Something decides to creep up and cover the light
Lost my way
Then I revoked to ever know, I ever thought that way
But in the in between time, that in the mean time 
Spent a lot of time
Gettin pissed off just to medicate and lift off
Don’t need Don Perion to sip off
Already had my way with the bottle
Even thought to get back with the trouble and rejoin the hustle
That’s just what happens to a man who really knows his old ways
Whos tired of making ends meet and ponders getting back to the streets.
Memory sets in and he remembers an O.G. saying
No matter how tall your pockets stand when you ball
Eventually times gonna make you fall
Fall
And I as I pull myself together 
I don’t wanna end up like the twin towers rubble
I mean no offence to nine eleven but at that time I probably could have used a reverend
But all that’s irrelevant now
because i live with a different perspective now

there you go you made it to the end :-) comment if you like, constructive criticism wanted as well.


Details | Free verse | |

Beak of Night

BEAK OF NIGHT

Following the glow in every star in my eyes
I lay here in the frenzy grass with swimming thoughts
Escapading~
Thunder hides in the still of the night
Doves fly high in an epic way
Swans glide in the mist of night
Everest tears, run down my cheeks 
Speechless~
 ------- I left you-------------------

The wind carries the sorrow from a chime, 
A touch with aromatic perfume, that turns out control
My shadows peeks around the warmth of a Phoenix mirage
My head is losing balance to a negative magnetic seal
Secretiveness ~

Sleepwalking with the tendency to crawl
My feelings stray as I lay on this frenzy grass of snow
Years that come and years that go
Things In life I will never know
I pass the morning till the night popsicles away
A blanket of snow to cover my dream
Wings taking flight near the river stream
Mockingbirds protecting their branch
In every scream!
Silence~
---------------- Far Away-------------

Leaves fall on me like an endless Odyssey Romance
I'm a lonely sparrow with an enigmatic look
A Gothic Dance, under the stars
Prancing under the devil's claw
I hold myself
Side to side
I lose myself to an ironic form.
Zero is what I can't perceive. 
Muteness~

With and without a beak
The mystique of my lips
Is all billiard-up
My mouth sewn shut
Shut up~
--------------No Words, Indeed------

EPIC
By; p.d.


Details | Epic | |

Patradoot The Messenger 43

Patradoot The Messenger 43/50

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor



She would ask you dear,                     in  most humble and  lovely words,
To tell her,                             the true condition of her  beloved husband, 
Removing the anxieties,                which would be mounting in her  mind, 
By telling her the entire story,  for which she would spend the whole night.

Please tell me dear letter, how my most beloved husband spends his time,
With in the dark,   tough  and high boundaries  of  the prison house,    and
How he bears the tortures,          the British rulers  would be giving to him,
As he is fighting,      for the freedom of our motherland     from the British, 

Sleeping,                     in the burning hot and dark cells of the prison house, 
Where mosquitos would be biting,                    during night and  in day also,  
And facing the taunting,                    on the freedom fighters by jail officers,
While bearing the agonies of distance from me and the hard stories of others. 

Please tell me dear letter,       how he bears the hard and fearsome  pains  and 
The sufferings of the jail life,                 which we perhaps cannot imagine here,
Who would console him,         when his is in distress and beaten by the jail staff,
While bearing hard and tough tortures,     they give as a gift to freedom fighters.

When he used to come late in the night,         tired and exhausted,
After passing the whole day, for the cause of the freedom struggle,
I used to bring sleep for him,                   by talking to him sweetly,
And singing melodies to him and consoling him always, dear letter

During extreme  hot summers,                    he would be living without air,
When even the sleep gets stubborn and arrogant, due to heat and humidity,
I used to create air on him,  by moving the hand fan     made of straw grass,
So that my beloved husband,           can get some rest and sleep, dear letter.



Ravindra
Kanpur India   29th November 2010                           continue in 44

Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.





Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 41 / 50

Patradoot or The Messenger 41 / 50

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor


You will be welcomed by my beloved,  
Amid the cool warmth of her tender breasts,
She would make you her precious garland,
To remove the agonies of her anxious heart.

She would feel shy to read my letter, 
Before the elders of my family, dear letter,
Close to her heart, she would hide you in her blouse, 
While hiding even the pleasures, from her over splashing heart.

Feeling shy before others, she would not hear my messages there
While holding you close to her heart, like a priceless gem,
She would take you to her room to hear you at ease, dear letter and
To love and adore you, since you are from the place of her love. 

Remembering her love, she would take you to the room
Which she used to decorate with the delicacies of her hands
The alluring simple beauty of her charms and of the room 
Used to fascinate me to, get lost in the sweetness of her arms. 

You would see the soft and milky white sheet,
Which she herself spreads on the bed every day,
Here you would also feel, a dim intoxicating fragrance,
Which my beloved used to spray, before we go to bed every day.

Ravindra

Kanpur India      30th Sept 2010                     conti.   in 42

Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994.



Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 40 / 50

Patradoot or The Messenger 40 /50

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor



After seeing your face, dear letter,
Decorated with beautiful words,
The sadness and gloom of her face,
Would change into a blooming Rose, dear letter.

With great anxiety she would ask,
From where you have come, O dear letter,
Have you brought a message for me from my love?
From the place, where he dwells now a days.

The feeling of love and affection would flash,
On the face of my beloved wife, dear,
And the shine of her beauty would expand,
Seeing the beauty of words addressed to her.

Her lotus like hands will softly open,
Your covered face to bring you in light,
And she would hold to you close to her heart,
To extinguish the heat of her longings, dear letter.

Her arms that uses to garland me dear, Removing 
All my worries and tiredness in her soft enfolds,
You would taste the embrace of those lovely arms,
When she would hold you, close to her heart, dear.

The lovely tenderness of her soothing touch, 
Refreshed and charmed my heart always,
While she was embracing me in her arms,
Tired and exhausted from days labor long,

It appears then, that her two lovely arms,
Like the cool Lotus stems were engulfing  
My body burning from the tortures of summer,
To take away the heat in their cool enfolds.

Ravindra

Kanpur India      16th Sept 2010                     continues in 41

Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994.



Details | Free verse | |

THE HARLEY DAVIDSON MOTORCYCLE

Engraved in chromes steel, is benedictions creed
The road warrior's born to be free mentality,
A legacy's name embossed in history, behold
The American Harley Davidson Motorcycle. 
Fires hell bound creation, blazing down the
Interstates two lane highway, feasting upon
The concrete and asphalt jungle, it lives to be driven,
And is driven to live.
Emerging from brimstone's smoke, and hails
Lightning flash, a two wheeled vehicle of deliverance,
Cuts the wild heart in half, releasing mankind's
Inner beast setting it free, unto the open roads
Badlands, of ultimate abandonment to freedom's row.
The rebel unforgiven,thus follows the lost by ways
Seeking liberation’s untamed spiritual knowledge.
Held firmly beneath the wings of the American eagle, and
Draped within the standard most sacred
Under the red, white, and blue flag, of the U.S.A. 
A living entity, releasing society's inhibitions,
At the sound of it's mighty roar, a freed lone wolf,
Racing against the winds of the restless spirit.
The leather jacket's brotherhood, symbolizing
A grand belief in the declaration of independence,
That all men are created equal, and shall have the
God given right, to seek true freedom's liberty at will.
These are the modern cowboy desperado's,
 Riding upon dual engines of power,
Time bandits whom trust in God and country alone.
A stampers anvil strikes in thunders rage, 
Melting quick silver, speeds downwards
 Into a symbolic mold, leaving behind tradition's
Birthmark,  and the Harley Davidson symbol
 Is born.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN


 


 











  


  



 

 








 


 











  


  


Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot The Messenger 44 of 54

Patradoot The Messenger 44/

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor



How he sleeps, O dear letter without even a cot and bed
Resting on a rough blanket, lying on the floor, and 
Who pats him, when he faces such tortures of the Jail life?
When sleeps also does not come.

He must be eating there, the tasteless dry foods of Jail,
That too, without ever getting a chance to hear,
The affectionate words, which makes a food,
 More delicious or tasty, when it comes from your love ones.

O, please tell this also to me, dear letter,
Does my husband ever remember his life companion and
Does his eye ever get wet, while remembering,
His dear wife, who is so much away from him.

What message my dear husband has sent?
Through you, O’ sweetest of all dear letter,
What teachings, he has sent through you?
To tell his loving wife, please tell me, O dear letter.

Do not think an Indian woman,
To be a weaker sex only, dear letter,
She may sacrifices her life, for the one,
Whom she makes her life partner, dear letter.

Ravindra			to continue  in 45..
Kanpur India 06th January 2011

Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994.





















Details | Epic | |

Crossroads

Walking threw the mist of the night,
on the path that lead deep into the forest, in absence of sound;
from one whom was bought, no body shell be found,
of those who might be lost, homeward bound,
as we raven through this hollow ground.

Cross sentences that are incomplete, fractions that make you weak,
threw words that you learned so well, life is a living hell,
don't front and pull back, end of line, number check,
in the story and on track, blank page,
ink intact.


Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 39 /50

Patradoot or The Messenger 39 /50

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor



When in the nectar pond of her mouth,
My kiss use to take breathe, dear,
Even the pride of the beauties of heaven,
Seems faded before her charms, dear letter 

When during her extreme laughs and passions,
The rows of her pearl like teeth appeared, 
They use to wave like necklace of pearl, 
In the red shines of her lovely lips, dear letter.

The round mark of her forehead used to disappear,  
Whenever her face shined with luster dear, 
Also during our love making, 
When pride ever came in her mind, dear letter.

Such lovely face, of the moonfaced my beloved,
You would find without a smile dear letter,
The face that never bent in self respect,
You will find  plight full, dear letter.

Her limbs which she used to keep covered,
With the softness and colors of beautiful silk sarees,
You would find them covered now with,
Coarse cotton Khadi colorless sarees, dear letter.

Seeing her motherland in miseries, 
And her people unfed and uncovered,
She must be wearing that coarse clothes,
On her tender body in sympathy of her people,

Ravindra

Kanpur India      013th Sept 2010                     continues in 40

Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994.


Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 42of 50


Patradoot or The Messenger        42/50

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor



You will find everything here,  disarranged and disturbed,
Like the shining less face of my sad beloved,    dear letter,
When you would reach along with her,             on her bed,
To take a rest,           in the sweet company of my beloved.

That tender girl with a loving heart,     looks after my  parents,
As if, they are her own real father and mother,    O dear letter,
Because of this great affection and  love in her heart for them,
They love my beloved, more than even their precious life, dear.

Suppressing her strong desires, to know more about me dear,
She would leave,        without enjoying your sweet company, 
As she would be serving my patents and her dear sweet child,
With same devotion, as she gives  to me,      when I am there,

Dear Letter, you will get rest and peace,  during the entire day,
While waiting for my beloved to get free from the day’s works,
You would recollect then,    the entire message I gave to  your,
For conveying it,       to my beloved wife,                  dear letter,

When she would retire from day’s long works and duties,       dear,
She would run hurriedly towards you,                         O dear letter, 
With tears of happiness in her eyes,   she would appear before you,
Adoring you  in her mind, since you have messages from her  love,

Ravindra
Kanpur India  31st Oct. 2010 				to continue in 43


Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 


Details | Burlesque | |

So I am Here

Ok so now that I am here, what do I do? Do I keep going. Do I fly around. Am I sure I am here. Everything is still the same except that, this, and maybe a little bit of that too but I am sure that is normal with life though. So I am searching for the question to the answer of my first question. Yes I am. So now normalities. What is normal? Blue is normal to us under a bright light, green shines better. Which one is real? Choose one. Let us say both. Both is not an option. Let us opt out. Done. Now if we can opt out of the question, why have'nt you?