Tag: my Poetry

Nowhere Left to Run

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

The politician plays victim
The willing poor pay his expense;
The sun spins around his world,
Making justice lose her sense.

The rhyme here is contrived,
Like the machinations of power;
The workers work to death,
The rich get richer by the hour.

Trees are hewn down in thousands,
Ground water will soon cease to flow;
And the intelligentsia keep mum,
Though they are all in the know.

Politics wields a flaming sword,
Darker than any Stygian abyss;
While religions hold the idiots in thrall,
Robbing every Eve of her kiss.

Free speech is throttled now,
Jingoism empowers the fools;
History and logic become
Embittered and useless tools.

The world teeters as it stays still
This mother too is given no choice;
So, we have nowhere left to run,
But in a maze, with no thought, sight, voice.

Stalkers

Published on by Harpreet Chhachhia1 Comment

I try to write a poem,
When I am alone at night,
When the snorers snore,
In dull yellow light…

I don’t get far?
Emotions overwhelm
Anxieties, and allergies
Mix terror up with phlegm.

I wish I could stop thought;
I wish I could escape my mind;
So I try aligning the chaos,
In writing, and leave it behind.

But emotions are bedlam,
Mixed with my urge to know,
So these lie awake with me
And follow wherever I go.

Rain

Published on by Harpreet Chhachhia2 Comments

The rain falls, when I can’t be wet;
It stops, when I want it to rain.
In essence, it teaches me life,
And quite a bit of what is pain.

Falls in sleets, when I wear my best,
And when I want to play, it halts;
It teaches me Nature – like me –
Can have her own foibles and faults.

The rain shows me how life works,
By not promising any goal;
I need to let go, it patters,
For life, like rain, isn’t in my control.