Best Exile Poems

Mark

The earth turns its face from you
as if ashamed. You
who tilled the soil, now marked
by what the soil received.
Your brother's blood—
how it murmurs, how it screams.
Deafness would be a mercy.

Wanderer

At Babel, you watch them build
their tongues a discordance of hope.
You know better.
The tower falls. Always,...

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The acceptable mask, through an endless night's past,
Dawn's meeting of eyes— more than simple strain, she cries....

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You reinvented me
giving me a rebel's energy,
providing license for my love to sing
the touch of your soul meaning everything,

From us wild words arose
speaking of history and stars we chose,
expecting too much of Destiny
venturing on through wilderness and purity,

Inspiration innocent in it's infliction
made us bleed for...

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Road to exile.

Boko Haram immigrants of hell,

nurtured to torture,

Bomb-tore people like vulture.

 

We all scared for our own fear,

Death,

that makes us all victim.

Just for a much smaller group or network.

 

It bothers me, in my inner mind,

how heartless a human can be,

heart more harder than...

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i am lost
in the conflagration of spirit
where no philosophy abounds.
yet i love.

where are the people i crave?
am i a monster?
crafted and bolted
for purposes i can not accept?

there is yet much of God’s beauty left our great country
even in the midst of ever advancing devastation.
and there...

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When innocent got killed, others left,
Beyond the hills to unknown lands,
Escaping death that chased foot prints,
With nothing, just the empty hands.

Helpless *Pandits, became homeless,
Feet on ground and sky over head,
Horror and fear gripped their minds,
Their heart was alive but soul so dead.

Loaded guns, kept looking...

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I'm in agony!
As the energy drains out!
Cruelest lunch, arrive!...

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I want to go back to my country
But I can't seem to find the way
Poverty is blurring the coordinates
With every passing day

I want to sit with my family
And speak my native tongue
Eat my mother’s home cooked meals
And feel that I belong

I am happy to have...

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My old piano
Was banished to the garage.
My house seems so cold!...

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where gossip once flowed in the coffee shops
and sums were not measured in gigaflops
at dawn peaceful stillness often ruled there
now but memory mixed with thoughts and prayers

always comfortable in our own skin
every judgment not a battle to win
lost in the fog of this wandering realm
sailing...

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Fog rusts railways seemingly parallel to nowhere...
Phantoms sit down on the cold metal trying to warm up
The moon smokes bats with stars as echo location
A janitor cleans up the daily memories of men with shoes
Taxi drivers fall asleep in line waiting for  customers who...

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go into exile
forget productivity
take a Sabbath day...

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For misdeeds, if you want to punish me
and wish to send me to exile somewhere - 
I would prefer to become the sunlight
of dawn – unfurl my blood stained wings over
the Mount. Kanchenjunga to rest awhile;
Tangerine sky would witness it only
My sins may evaporate to...

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That I be ambushed in early gambit
  for my king was a sacrifice too great -
just a pawn in a game and I am it
  plays out its capture and winless stalemate.
He not bared to his human desires nor
  fruit on the...

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for Prithwin

first  
      left downstroke
start from the top
  plane out
let the long anchor tip roof-line curve sharply upwards
at the stern down-end
pile it in stuffed in the centre
leave the bottom open
that’s where the studded boot rightly fits

Over billowing transmuted...

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