Ibohal Kshetrimayum Poet I do not know?

Cups of Prayers and Curses

I drink everyday cups after cups
Of what you feared to drink.
If blood differs its color from red
To saffron, white or whatever,
I deny to bleed religiously.
From what well a beggar
Draws water for his thirst I know not,
But I understand the poison
Of sins we, you and I, drink everyday;
Spiced with your indifferent high-handedness.
Do not hoist your flag on my history,
For I have stopped walking on tutored prayers.
In spite of the anthem you've baptized me with and
My flat nose and narrow eyes upon which
Your mockery humiliates humanity,
I remain native to my roots.
Someday, a stone will conquer us, the both of us,
When stars will drain their twinkles, with remorse,
On garbage of raped girls, even as chastity becomes
The fault-line along which seismic rebellions
Will tremor and justify my absence
From your churches, mosques and temples.
My demands, notwithstanding your statutes,
Are answerable by your august houses;
Lest posterity wil spill cups of curses
On altars, constitutions and patriotism.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment