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Best Poems Written by Priyanka Chugh

Below are the all-time best Priyanka Chugh poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Slumdogs

We are the children of time 
That big round clock 
Arms like arrows 
Not a minute to be wasted 
In this precious cycle 
Of ambition 
We succeed 
While hearts bleed
Yet we go on and on. 
Growing up isn't tough 
Mature before puberty 
Nature versus nurture 
A mind like ours is never a child 
We are born fighters 
Running full speed 
Living the modern life 24*7.

Childhood was no fairytale 
Education only for the male 
Running the household 
Responsibility of the female.
Every mark mattered 
Couldn't afford to fail 
We had dreams to go to Yale 
Lopsided economies of scale.

Never heard a nursery rhyme 
Anything but calculus was a crime 
Professors of arts and humanities
Never earned a dime.
Peter Pan a fantasy 
Charlie's chocolates a forbidden ecstacy
Mowgli a triviality 
Winnie the Pooh served no practicality.

Industrious (child) laborers like us 
Live in a world of reality 
Where domestic violence is a commonality 
Amidst high infant mortality.
Basic necessities are scarce 
All the money gobbled up 
By the fatty Babu's of 
Our royal municipality.
Nasty neighborhood to live in 
Mass murders ain't a confidentiality 
Mafia's rewarded for their masculinity
No individuality 
Fear of homosexuality.

Dreaming dreams do no harm 
Waking up punched in the stomach
Not aided by an alarm 
Learning to shoot a gun before ABC 
My basti had no dearth of firearm 
Attracting pity is our only charm.

Working day and night 
50 rupees a month
One meal a day
Is our only right 
Reading by the moonlight 
Whenever free 
If caught dozing off 
Whipped brutally by the underdog 
A terrible affright 
No FIRs for our measly plight

To get out of that clumsy area 
Is a dream a come true 
But every Chotu 
Doesn't have a happy ending.
When you are but a mule 
A tiny part of a big racket 
Any wrong move 
And you are smashed like a bee 
Slammed like a fist 
Held in a cage 
Anything but flying free.
Gaining independence is rare 
Thinking of freedom a dare 
Every chaiwala ain't no 
Slumdog millionaire.

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The Economy of Duality

Child laborers like us
Live in a world of reality
Where domestic violence is a commonality
Amidst high infant mortality

Mafia's rewarded for their masculinity
No individuality
Fear of homosexuality

Ours is a world of frugality
Full of sick mentality
An abundance of rascality, criminality, carnality, illegality
No traces of equality, liberality, joviality, musicality
Lopsided is our scale of ethicality

Thinking of freedom is an illogicality
Laughed at for its ephemerality
Being fettered in this communality
Balances the economy of duality

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Fly

Limited by the set boundaries she had a flair to fly across those dividing lines.

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Lover

She took me in and turned me into a lover.
Will she open the doors again for I crave the light?!

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Barbed Wires

There is a squirrel in my cell 
Listen to this because 
I have things to tell.
I named the brat Hope 
Like whom one day 
I too wish to elope 
With no footprints to trace 
To feel the wind on my face.
You may wonder 
What am I doing here 
In this bloody house of hell?
Like most other inmates 
And our dear Alice 
I slipped down the rabbit hole 
And fell, and fell, and fell.
The felony of this felon? 
A first-degree murder 
Vicious, vile and venomous 
Horrid, horrible and hideous
Shot his brains out with a bullet
Cut his dick into pieces 
Pierced his heart with a knife.
The son of a  deserved it
For thrice that beastly night 
With No conscience, No consent, 
But yes amidst a ***ing fight 
He raped my wife
He raped my beautiful wife!
She died from the brutal assault
My Nirbhaya.
Call it fate or call it the 
***ed up legal system 
The dead rapist was 
Declared innocent.
For he allegedly was lured 
Into the heinous act 
By my wife's "luscious short skirt"
Apparently her "thighs were showing"
But the murderer 
Imprisoned for life.
Not a good life to live 
Of that of a con or an ex-con 
Where Every day, Every second 
One mourns and mourns and mourns.
A Stinky 6 by 8 is all I have now 
No breath of fresh air 
Days filled with prayers 
Nights with nightmares 
Walls scribbled with a vow 
To fight till my sanity gives up 
Or somebody sane on the outside 
Reads my story of despair 
And if nothing else 
Sends me a ***ing wheelchair.
Yes last month 
I lost my legs 
In a bloody prison warfare 
And yes decades ago 
I lost all family ties 
For nobody wants to be 
Involved in a con's affair 
Imprisoned for life 
But who the *** cares!
Who the  cares.

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A Rebel

Dress properly
Behave womanly
Walk nicely
Straight and not crooked
Eat wifely
But never too much
Thin ones are always preferred
Laugh courteously
Don't laugh out loud
How dare you speak so much
A slut or what?!
Speak politely if you have to
Else don't open that mouth of yours
But do smile here and there
Nobody likes a depressed woman
Wear clothes that hide your breasts
It should be sufficiently hidden
Don't wear them tight
The curves are appealing
Don't wear them loose
They hang like fruits
Wear them according to the occasion
No need to be a rebel now
Listen to the elderly
Obey them at all times
Be a homely wife
Gel with everybody
Respect his wishes
Please him as much as you can
How dare you argue?!
The slut within you refuses to die or what?
Come take a dip in the holy river
Wash away your sins
Get purified
Not like that!
Wear decent clothes
Before plunging in front of everybody
Don't wear white
It is transparent and cracks
Wear full clothes
But wear them dark
Don't wear black
It sticks and attracts
Get up before everybody
Sleep after everybody is asleep
Eat after you have taken care of others
Take an early bath
You don't want to stink
Pray before eating
Pray with devotion
Be patient you dervish!
The food isn't going anywhere
Come and join the party
Become beautiful before attending
Always wear that smile on you
Accompany him. Don't leave him hanging.
Even to the bar
But don't you dare drink!
Drunkards are men only
It doesn't suit a women
Of any age
How sad she is widowed...
But why isn't she wearing white?!
A slut or what?
How dare she wear those colorful clothes?
It hasn't even been a year since he breathed his last
Such a caring husband! It's a pity.
And just look at her
Flaunting her happiness like that!
Doesn't his death bother her
No! Cried out the ***
He was an acid between my thighs
It was a pointless death for him
A moment of victory for me
Trust me. I'm a woman. We are born to battle.
And they never hear our soulful cries.
"But still, like air, I'll rise."
Guess she is a rebel after all.

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Parched

She wished to be held in her lover's arms for the ink of her sword had parched.


Winner of the One Liner Contest.
Sponsored by Silent One

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Mademoiselle

A cloudy summer evening 
Love stories just beginning
Feigning infatuations
Heart inflammations
Words stuck in throats 
Love letters on paper boats 
Reasonable not to fall 
Yearning eyes tell-all 
Touch beyond doubt a crime 
Thoughts of beloved sublime 
A clandestine tryst 
Too hard to resist 
Greeted by roses in a secret garden
Heavy downpours smudging 
Mascaras pardoned 
Vows to go the distance harden
Nightingale laments in the twilight 
Lovers dance to her tune all night 
Lilacs whisper
Let there be light! 
Dusky dawn brings a new era
Malalas' anointed with tiara
Pilgrims ringing their bells
Daisies bidding their farewells
Amorous letters do always tell
Forever yours mademoiselle

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Sigh

Found me drowned in the bloody tub
Outside raining cats and dogs
A thunderstorm, black clouds
Me, empty as a shell
Tip-tip water pouring down
Inside the silence was piercing
Slept heavily the night before
Mother beside me, Crying like a baby
Couldn't remember why when I picked up the knife
Dad out as always
Downright drunk in the pub
Fancy night for him
Didn't care much, the indifferent bloke
Loose connections in the family
Said I needed to grow up. Be a man
Shadows moving up the wall
Not a soul to caress
Chik-chik, chik-chik
My brain as hot as a balloon
Filled with air
Empty as a vacuum
Branches creeping out
Calling for me, arms stretching
Waiting patiently
Tick-tock, tick-tock
Wanted to write before bleeding
Catharsis, they say, the philosophical lads
Hands shaky by the lampshade
At last, all that came out was a sigh