Learn more about other poetry terms

माना कि तुम बड़े हो पर हम तो अभी बच्चे हैं जूठे तो तुम हो - हम तो अभी सच्चे है जो हमारे सपनों के घर कच्चे है वो तुम कच्चे ही रहने दो। अगर हम आपकी नजर में बच्चे है तो बच्चे ही रहने दो।
  I shall gather a few of my kindand tour the new era penitentiary,Where millions are breathing in an open cage wondering what happened to open skies.
Hitlers, fascists, anti-Semites, andIslamophobesPaid visitors grazing wazwanon the Dal Elegant Shikaras drifting slowon affectionate watersXenophobes gossiping, loathing‘others’ on the Dal
Heavy hearts Heaving chests Tired thoughtsLonging eyes Busy lines Silenced lips All is well It’s all normal They call it normalcyWe call it life Occupied lands
Day 28 Did you sight the moon But the eclipse For how long Did the sun burn itselfThe earth no longer roundBut how long Didn’t you hear Eid never came It is Muharram
Any news from Kashmir? They say now women are freeChildren will play and go to schoolFreedom has been delivered Any news from Kashmir ? Yes, no news is good news Isn’t it , they say
Saviour spoke Those incarcerated, Under siege Locked in and Excommunicated Those who need watching Who don’t know how to live Shall be bestowed, With a magical hug To cure them of
Wrathful winds full of rage, Blowing away, Smashing to pieces, The world of ordinary folk. If you were there? When out of sheer innocence, They unlocked the doors to their hearts,
Lemons may colour the khaki green,Remove the dirty smudges, But how would you erase?
   Breaking the lull as you dwell in the city of Srinagar,Sedate Waters of the Dal lake bouncing to the moon Cooped up populace peeping through the crevices,Predators patrolling the streets hunting the lamb.  
Vishnu sits at his writing desk Gada switched for a pen; Dreams, reality, it’s the same to his editors.   Lakshmi works at the bank,
Step after step, we approach the hospital A summer of hot, humid Air Astonishment fills, and we realize how little of the human condition we know of or care.   India, the country of which we treck
Years ago, when the earth Was as delicate as a new born doe A huge land mass got split Giving a piece of land On which we stand, upright and still Ancestors turned into humans
RESPECT *1Respect is the Desire of everybody's mind, But is only given to people who are kind. *2Respect is given to those who deserve it, And is not given to those who are unfit for it.
Bright lights and glamor, money and glitz A beautiful dancer working in Delhi. Bewitched by her form, a powerful businessman Fails to see where her heart truly lies.
Hey. I am fat. Yes, I am a fat ugly bitch. Or an ugly fat bitch. Call me the way you want! But I wonder why do you have so much of problem with this? I have been tired of listening to the same thing over and over again.
Part I   The very inspiration began on a seventh day Of the eight month of the year 2013 AD A class by a master on translations Triggering him to reveal a historic place Unknown much, a place so great
is one of the magnificent cities of India. You should be aware of the fact that commercial office shifting is not a task that seems to be an easy victory.
Eyes crawl all over the pla
my father is a man of many colors. on the nights when the moon stays asleep, he lotions his palms with pomegranate juice.   the sugared blood pools in the creases of his skin and stains it India’s red.
I will not describe my culture, With romantic language,  Showcasing the beauty of our brides, Adorned in striking crimson, Or the spiritual resting places, That spread themselves accross the lands,
Tears roll down my cheek. They wash over my dirty face like a flood in the desert, Whisking away the filth and barrenness, Revealing the rich brown underneath.
 IT’S A girlThe three deadliest words in the world.So many keep disappearing just because of the flip of the coin.
All this violence, has its range, that's one thing  that I would change.   A bad night between couples, two many drinks, makes them rethinks their own happy nuptuals.   
You constantly reminded me to wash my
I’m a mouse Always have been It doesn’t take much for me to hide in my little home Where I am safe from the daggering eyes Or judgmental looks of others But sometimes I get fed up
If I could change anything I think it would be my eyes, I don’t like how dark they are, I want them as blue as the sky. Or maybe I would change my thighs, They rub together and jiggle when I jive.
I heard a story one day, to my surprise I had nothing to say, It was something about this girls name, The sound? The origin? It soon all became a game ,  
I’m a foreigner. A white girl in a brown world. I stick out. I’m a target. Oh how I wish that my safety were not an issue! Because sometimes I feel like Rapunzel, Locked up in a tower,
Turtles from Madagascar Marmosets from South America A Noah’s ark of endangered species Sinking under the weight of the elephants.   Captured from traffiikers Seized from smugglers
If we're trying to understand the universe why can't we do it through our hands, fragile little bones bending to send the energy we conduct by blood pulsing in and out of chambers through all that we touch,
“…I’m sure there’ll be more to cry for, There’ll be more for us to see…”
Wrapped up in smoke, Robbed of its smiles, My city seems shrunk, Sucked off its warmth, It lies deserted tonight… Walls of trust have been shattered, Humanity questioned, My city weeps,
Subscribe to India