Short Lynched Poems

frontier justice
the last horse thief
lynched...

Read More

Death masks
the intrusive
images of past thoughts
being burned.  The soul's dark night dreams
lynched hearts....

Read More

My broken words lie in tatters
discarding all that matters,

echoing the splintering sounds,
of this heart when it shatters.


Im floating down the sewers,
lynched by unknown skewers,

tossed and flung away,
into the bowels of today.


Still I refuse to beat my retreat,
despite the sting of the icy sleet,

and through the slicing rain,
I will sing a hopeful refrain,

picking myself up to stand again......

Read More

Boiled in international broth
soiled by an internal sloth
emphasizing the epiphany
gorged by an internal gluttony
salivating a want to succeed
griped by an internal greed
creative moments of clarity
enveloped by an internal envy
triumph built on trust
lynched by an internal lust
paved to form a new path
wasted by an internal wrath
collective thoughts collide
pilloried by an internal pride...

Read More

Burn the crosses
Ghosts walk in broad daylight

Gas the masses
A circus unfolding in the streets

Holes in the innocent
Hidden by the establishment

Cuts and bruises
Abused by the protector

You die for their sins
So they become the victim

Liberty is not given
But death is buy one get one free

And every silent onlooker
Is hiding a hood in their closet

When you speak you're lynched
So they can call it justified...

Read More

A mob gathered in a flash
Chanting God's name
They lynched one dead
Suspected of eating beef

A mob gathered in a flash
Swinging in bigoted fervor 
They hung two by a tree.
Accused of smuggling cows

A mob gathered in a flash
Swords flashing in hands
They slashed one beyond shape
Alleged of loving upper caste

Violence ,mahyem goes on 
Common men silent onlookers 
castrated beyond redemption 
India, my country , awake !!!...

Read More

A strange autumn this,
with its tight closed fists,
its lynched, hollow fruitfulness.

Ashen drapes shroud
listless maples, a sky
reluctant to color its face.

We are knuckled inwards.
A pestilence has worn out
the pith of those who survive.

We enter this wintry furnace
refined, steeled, and buckled
with a somber endurance

and we will come through
just as autumn does, renewing 
the earth with its fiber and sorrows....

Read More

Where art thou now, woman with flashing light,
like fingers of God freezing time and men,
in black and white. Thou art not here,
but thou art here forever like death could not
pinch thee away from my eyes
nor hide thee beyond the chronicle of Mumbai.
Many will rest but thou will not, thou weary soul.
I saw thy work hanging like the lynched Messiah,
and saw the truth; life has no voice to speak thy praise,
but death … thy worship raised, like Lazarus from the grave....

Read More