Eight poems, by Megha Sood

1.Unappreciated

 

How can you live a life when the moments are
as long as the shrug of your shoulder
or waiting on the careless fingers resting on a trigger
marked and unappreciated

How can you live life
when you are judged by your
cast/creed/skin color
or how your tongue moves inside you when you speak of love
those scriptures,
the world has forgotten
while your knees are scraped and blue
kneeling  for praying to gods in heaven

How can you live life like this
when your desire and the rage of hormones
or the sex resting between your supple thighs
marks and etches you
and you can only rest in the binary form
any other is a direct violation of the life
soon to be dissolved,
should cease to exist

How can you live life
like a broken spine of a book
still holding the old rotten pages together with
the essence,
soaked in between
the tattered pages
but too old to be lifted off the shelves
thrown and resting on an old broken armchair

How can you live life like this?
Tell me, Can you?

 

  1. An exercise in futility

 

Be a ladylike,
eye pleasing appearance
enough to gulp down the lies
down your swan bottled neck
oh! only to be bejeweled by the pearl necklace
and the bright possessions
he dons you with

Don’t bother to breathe
when it’s not ladylike
that your chest heaves violently
to the truth you fail to contain in
It’s not social to use expletives in your
aristocratic language
you will be burned at the stake
for speaking your truth
your scraps will be fed to wolves

Don’t wear your truth on your sleeves
which is naked and bold
it can’t hold a gaze
with their shameful eyes
too hard to please;
too simple to ignore

Sit with your legs crossed
my mom used to say.
don’t let that pointy opinions of your
evade your crisscrossed arms
to become an easy prey

Don’t give them enough reasons
your piercing opinions
to point at your ribcage
they will choke you with
their blatant lies
will tear your heart apart
with their hungry eyes

Oh! look at him
he is remorseful
with his flagrant lies
he goes to church on Sundays
lives with his two daughters and his wife
that is enough for him to
seek the blessings of the male privilege
those damn vultures in disguise

Where the validity of your truth never mattered
it would never be
your reality will always be a grain of sand in
their eyes of ignorance
too hard to ignore
too painful to acknowledge.
an exercise in futility.

 

  1. Saintly (Social Inequality)

Failed virtues of the people today
nothing can be fixed
going to church every day
You’re Catholic
and I’m pious
and we still have our fingers
dipped in the blood
of our desires
What makes you more saintly than me I ask
Oh! I pray and confess twice in the last pass
I repent my sins
and donate to charity
to evade taxes
cause I can’t stand in the stinky lines
of the soup kitchen
to feel those empty glances
I’m looking at the God
and still stripping you with my eyes
they say I’m a man of cloth
who has burned every desire
Lighting up candles
kneeling to make my wishes come true
I can kill a person’s desire to live
but I can make a saint out of you.
Reading the holy scriptures
and accepting the truth in the gospel

we are camouflaging so beautifully
hiding the devil so well.
So what makes you feel
so saintly and
makes me a devil
please, pray tell.

 

  1. Broken ( Domestic violence)

You are broken and torn apart
at multiple places
not an inch has been left on your soul
which has not been
branded by his violent displays

You weep and yelp
at the slightest of his touch
bleeding like a soulless animal
you are dragged everywhere

Your heart wrenching
and blood-curdling screams
are falling on the
deaf ears
He is driven by his fear and anger
to brandish your body and soul
to trademark every tear

You wake up next day
salvaging your last dregs of sanity
gather yourself again
to  relive again the hellish reality

You cover and hide your bruises
under your makeup
when the scars are tattooed on your soul
they don’t need  a shakeup

You try to justify his every act
to balance with lost love
once you had
how he must be having a hard day
before he devoured you
with all the anger he had

You are masking your emotions
with that fake smile
and empty heart
living fearfully
not knowing
when it will start again.
Every pore in your body
begets the revenge
till you are knocked down
again
by his strong hand

You wish his existence to be
a glitch in nature
a ripple in time
which can take him back again
So you don’t have to face the mirror
to see his broken love
written on your face
all over again.

 

  1. Lucky ( Rape)

You are broken and
crumbled in thousand pieces
You try to lift with
your tiny finger
the shreds cutting
and piercing
your deep
yellow heart
devoid of any pain
as the eyes gazes
from emptiness to nothing
As you pick up the pieces
And suck the pain
With blood dripping from your soul
your body turned inside out
shamelessly they took
the white soul
and stained it with
their tainted emotions
you let them have you
your eyes pried open
A witness to the living death
and the gore
they had you
they devoured
every shred of your living life
With blood dripping
going down the drain
you are lucky to have
the last gasp of breath
left inside you
you were lucky
they left the last
fragment of soul in you
you were lucky
you were pardoned
after being raped
Mercilessly.

  1. A cry for Life ( Female Infanticide)

I was conceived as a hope
tethered to the
strings of life
gave my mother,
two heartbeats
a moment so precious
so divine.

An unbridled joy
roaming around as a stardust
handpicked you from million
was excited to the core
about the new home
I was getting in.

A mixture of anxiety and happiness
crept in
the moment you
saw me
a speck of life
You fed me and took care of me
while my body
took form and felt alive

I waited those nine months
to be in the arms of
my creator, my father
carried in the womb
and floating in the love
of my mother

As the days grew near
the time flew by
the day finally came
the moment
so serene
so sublime

My arms stretched and ached
to be held by you
in your deep embrace
your face turned yellow
and full of disgust
when you saw my face

You were ashamed
of my existence
my few minutes of feeble breath
brought you disgrace

The softness on
your soul
felt bereft
of peace and warmth
Clouded by the patriarchy
rules of the society
you just wanted me gone

I was snatched from the womb
the cord of life snipped
born as a gender
not chosen as a boon
My cries and screams
were stifled
I was numbed to the core
too early, too soon

Those fingers I longed to clutch
by my little bony self
those fleshy fingers
were busy scraping
the earth in the backyard
getting ready
for my burial.

 

  1. Living nightmare ( Child Sex trafficking)

She was snatched from the
warm embrace of her mother
joy rides from her father
from her cradle of innocence
naked
she stands now
stripped of her emotions

Baring her
broken and shattered soul
at every lecherous eye
and fornicated look
she is a grown up
woman
too early too soon

Her pretty little dolls have
scratches on her face
and stained  with the
memories of the
dark moon

Her pure soul
is still denying  the
blisters on her body
she still can’t believe her ears
when people call her whore

Licking her wounds every day
and dolled up for the night
she has got pretty good
at hiding her sores

The dream of that
fairytale prince and
the first time
rapturous kiss
has been shattered
so many times
more

She still has faint memories
of the sun
drenching her face
jumps in the puddle
to scare away those frogs

But no matter how much she
screams and screeches
her reality is slowly
turning into the
a living nightmare
she abhors.

 

  1. Immigrant

I’m an immigrant
a person whose
roots are dangling between
continents and spanning cultures
trying to get the footing
to maintain the balance
dangling between the void and the fullness
My mouth speaks two language
where my heart bears one
I’m training my tongue to
get used to the new taste of everything
while remembering my mother’s recipe
to celebrate my festivals
clutching to the old traditions
living in the constant
fear of being called a misfit
learning new slangs and clichés
I’m still trying to find a balance in my life
when
my roots are spanning the continents
and my heart is buried in one.
I’m an immigrant
I’ll be always be called one.

..
Megha Sood lives in Jersey City, New Jersey. She is also a contributing author at GoDogGO Cafe, Candles Online, FVR Publishing, Whisper, and the Roar and Poets Corner. 
Her works have been featured in GoDogGoCafe, Whisper and the Roar, Duane Poetree, Visual Verse, Vita Brevis, KOAN(Paragon Press),521 Magazine,Fourth and Sycamore,Poets Corner, Modern poetry, Spill words Press, Indian periodicals, Literary heist, Little Rose Magazine, The Quiet Corner, Writer’s Cafe Magazine, and coming up in Modern Literature,Dime Show review and many more. 

She recently won the 1st prize in NAMI NJ Dara Axelrod Mental Health Poetry contest. She blogs at https://meghasworldsite.wordpress.com/

 

5 thoughts on “Eight poems, by Megha Sood

  1. Pingback: Megha’s October Published Works! | Go Dog Go Café

  2. Pingback: Immigrant- a poem – Megha's World

  3. Pingback: Eight poems published in “I’m not a silent poet” – Megha's World

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