Long Lakh Poems
Long Lakh Poems. Below are the most popular long Lakh by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Lakh poems by poem length and keyword.
Children as young as three years old,
Killed for not doing as they’re told,
Forced to forget their culture bold,
What a tragedy to unfold!
Two hundred fifteen, that ain’t less,
Young innocents abused, suppressed,
How can humans be so heartless?
It breaks my heart, I must confess,
Wonder, how they would have pleaded?
Their cries for mercy unheeded
Residential schools, not needed,
Were soon closed, but lives conceded,
In the name of education,
A way of ‘assimilation’,
Native kids faced termination,
What a gruesome excavation!
07.01.2021
{On 28 May, 2021, the bodies of 215 children were discovered in a burial site at the grounds of the Kamloops Indian Residential School using new, ground-penetrating technology. The deaths are believed to be undocumented. The school, which was closed in the late 1970s, is located in Tk’emlúps te Secwépemc First Nation. First Nations refer to a section of indigenous inhabitants of Canada, along with Inuits and Métis people.
Between 1831 and 1996, Canada’s residential school system forcibly separated more than 1.5 lakh First Nations children from their families in order to assimilate them into the Euro-Canadian and Christian ways of living. They were forbidden to acknowledge their indigenous heritage and culture or to speak their own languages.
According to an information resource set up by the University of British Columbia, children were subjected to physical, sexual, emotional, and psychological abuse.
In 2008, then Prime Minister Stephen Harper publicly issued an apology, on behalf of the Government of Canada, to all indigenous people acknowledging the country’s role in the residential school system.}
For Edward Ibeh's "This or That, Vol 4" contest
Life is full of spar, struggles, and worry
Times when feel we frustrated and derisory -
No way from affray to solace dear ordinary
Comes to rescue our dear cherished library.
A place where authors, poets, philosophers’ ivory;
A locus where the mind meets tranquillity primary;
Here Rowling converses with Sir Philip Sidney in refinery,
A premise where wisdom abounds—not derisory.
Bindu madam, an avid reader, peaceful pituitary,
With smile welcomes experts and students ordinary
To delve and transverse in the world microevolutionary
Reconnoitre novels, poems, essays and news necessary.
Pristine Pradeep sir distributes books multi-disciplinary
So that the children read and lose soul temporary
In the world of pleasant, poised authors legendary;
Focuses on increasing knowledge, idee and vocabulary
Calm, patient, pensive and executing duties binary.
Such a grand library—with lakh-plus books, all necessary;
Urge I to use our SNK library, truly revolutionary;
Read Shakespeare or Kant or Milton – none contrary;
Sit here in silence — no idle talk; no reading secondary.
Magazines, Manga, Aru, Harry, Sachin legendary –
All are available at free-lance here, macroevolutionary;
Utilize your time wisely, flick through the boat airy
To drift into the world of books, in realms so ivory.
6.
i am to be blown off on the first bombardment
then it is to be flown
in the crowd of fire-flies
on the bushes of the scented-lemons
and it is to see the memory race of the grown-up girls
it is to see more
that after the opening of the sluice gates
one by one
how the gathering in the hindu hotels
increases
by leaps and bounds
the pores of the skin of the body
whose hoods are open
and who are running up
along the spiral route
that leads to the top of the mountain
their child
due to late-marriage
now only knows
how to move on all fours
7.
under the table-glass
i unfold the life-chronicle of one lakh year
and in the olive-cabinet
all the applications for living
from the monsoon-noon to the winter-afternoon
the lines you draw on the parchment
none of them is so condensed
as to touch the palms of a sailor
from the numerable timber-joists
come down the swarms of personal white ants
no spring seems to become corporeal
without the spell of misunderstandings
so of late
besides the dry statistics
with the cough
comes out grey thermometer
prickly-heats spread over the whole body
the sticks of young antenna
shake off their wings
behind the bath-scene
lies the succulent hailstorm
8.
there is no lovely add
yet the market-value of your headache
is going up day by day
all the noon send her mad
the intellectual kisses
the coos
or is it the running about of the tennis-ball
so much pop-corns are flying out
from the draw-well
or that sound of foot-steps
in the north-east
may be
that is of some brown horses
or some horse-drawn perambulators
when the moon spreads out the platinum
does it judge the recipients
thus the bin-leaves can ring
from head to foot
it unfurls an incorrigible right-angle
in the early-evening
the troop with armours
open a shop of condom
beside the vainglory of the lake
His two years old son
Needed treatment for stomach pain
But he had no money
His wife needed to pursue
Her BA course
He couldn't afford to
I can't help he would say
I must be happy with what I have
He would say to himself
Somewhat stoically
But his days were otherwise happy
Ferrying people between
Two metro railway stations
In his motorized auto-rickshaw
The road was straight and bare
Just earn and live from hand to mouth
A youth of twenty with no anxiety
The season changed
One day after dropping the last passenger
His eyes fell on a purse lying in the rear seat
Inside it, he found some cards
A bundle of currency notes
One lakh Indian rupees
That would amount to
Around eight hundred dollars
For the first time
He was on crossroads
The right-hand road he looked at
The right brain itched
Lucrative and lovely
The left-hand one looked logical
Take care it warned
The left brain he scratched
Folds on the forehead
The choice was difficult
Unlike Robert Frost
Perhaps the purse owner
Had withdrawn the money from a bank
To meet some emergency
He rationalized
Rummaging the purse
He got a useful telephone number
He dialed it
Answered a suave voice
The caller narrated how he had got the purse
The responder melted in gratefulness
" I am busy in my office.
My wife will see you in an hour.
Do please visit us one day and have lunch
with us"
Handsome looking
Auto-rickshaw owner smiled
Looked still further handsome
Mrs. Dasgupta arrived at the appointed hour
He returned the purse
A month later she gave him a return gift
It was almost a love at first sight
This time
He was at a really difficult crossroads
September 17, 2019
Crossroads Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Long long ago there lived a king
Who hath truly loved all poetry
Who never was tired of listening
To all forms of beautiful poetry
Well read senior poet of the court
Also never stopped minting
And reading amidst claps in the court
Verses full of prise for the king
Not so named and all those young
Hardly got some chance to sing
Their some good works before the king
As the senior was disallowing
Even the king got truly bored
But was unsure how to express
Aging great can not be fired
Time he hoped would clear the mess
One day one young poet got a chance
In the coveted senior's absence
To read some poems on Siva's dance
And the king's joy was immense
Every letter of his work earned a lakh
Said the king there is no going back
Talented fresh please come forward
Read good poems and you earn reward
Lo, those words opened flood gate
But only a few could clinch reward
Protecting now the wealth of the state
Poet senior stood as a good guard
(to be continued....)