Da Kishan (part 2)

With arms wide open
you welcomed the dirt
from earth to sun
with your heart
under their hammers
with their stones
pounding your shoulder,
with their spades
cutting your face,
Home is where we are not scared of
and you proved that
shedding your blood
in the great hills of Ema Manipur.
We believe we will not be scared
to walk the roads
as your blood colors the milestones
Now we will feel home, we will feel you
whatsoever be their weapon
whatsoever be the colors of their flag


how in world
we die so inhumanely

the banners

Fire your tear-gas shells
Fear us with your blank-fires
make our banner lower
or make them cloudy with your smoke
wipe the words with our blood
suffocate our mouth
with your hand grenades
sow our seeds in your gun powder
torture us, strangle us
you value your rubber-bullets
more than our souls
like the media believes we are ants
under the bulldozer
But we will rise

Da Kishan

It was sometime after spring
you and me were mourning
with smile, you and me were crying
how we would miss the burning flame
that ceased by the rain of bullets

We knew such heroism lasts only in literature
it will last only in hearts
the hearts of the weakest of the weak
And now today they have taken you in my heart,
the weak heart of mine.

i value you, my brother
you deserve more than this poetry
and the condolences

Red Me

red me
if you cant read me
as we go along
the tangent of time
Mother Earth will turn red.
Red at home is Black
Nobody sees them in daylight
except their laughter and barrels
they sound like dogs
inside the long black cars
they love to teach us
they love to take away
my hard earned money

Red Me Red Me
if you cant read me