Caste poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of caste poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on caste are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Casting aspersion on caste is like digging one’s own Grave For we know not why we have come but we know for sure where we are destined to Go When the coffin doesn’t differentiate who you are Why do you
Casting aspirations on caste is like digging one’s own grave For we know not why we have come but we know for sure where we are destined to Go When the coffin doesn’t differentiate who you are Why do you
You can excuse a poisonous snake when it bites because it is afraid you might strike first You can excuse a thief if he has no other means to earn You can excuse a woman driven to prostitution because of
This overwhelming emptiness: something to present allegorical, figuratively, which is not here. Vultures were coming back. A stimulating dialogue must start to release the hostages of unknown fears. The menacing fog was towering over statements. Everything was turning into coal
Never was it right? Or was it always that we needed to try, for own sake obviously. Was it, that we ever wanted discrimination on the complexion. Or was it that we always needed to try, at the behest of
Our freedom began with the historic words At the midnight when the world sleeps India will awake we did wake to freedom It’s now the sixty ninth year of freedom But what sort of freedom is this A handful of those
Stranger, why should I not smile at you? Why should we be entrapped under false separations of race, color, caste, creed or any duality? Are not we beings cast in the image of God? Is not all – one! We
I refuse to follow you. I refuse to borrow your words, your ideas, your beliefs. Limiting preachings of fragmented minds. I refuse to follow you. I refuse to adopt your meanings, interpretations, definitions. Confining parameters, conditioning. I refuse to follow
(JUDGEMENT la JUSTICE) Couples fight and seek Divorce, in camera, in Court While Animals meet each other openly for Courtship Human beings need Lawyers to fight their case While Animals fight each other and settle the case Judges are appointed
O flamingo, your pink is fading. Pick up the spirulina, it was caste-based. It hits there, where it hurts more. You were chasing, standing on one leg salt was dwindling in the lake. The stink unlike you is going to
Value deterioration is too fast Humanity should stay steadfast. The world should wake to crisis And hit it at its head like a dart. Vices are quickly escalating Greed runs at neck-break speed Making the people more physical Eat, drink
All humans are part of one god. But still they fight among themselves. In the name of religion, Ever at the name of caste, At the name of the country. Why cannot we all live together? If we all live
A rapt moon was listening a tale of two murders. Across the caste, fingernails were digging in to give – a putsch to darkness, unhappened in vain. A word tears into the untouched pain and I bleed for the golden
Though by birth born in a caste predominantly of business class where Goddess Lakshmi loves to reside, He grew up in the company of sacred caste predominantly of learned class where Goddess Saraswathi would settle Right from his tender age
Wake me up, at another dawn, When love rises high, and all miseries are gone. Wake me up, at another dawn, When justice meets mankind at the new horizon. Wake me up, when there are smiles… Not forced upon, but
A gunny sack was full of bleached skulls. What now? Do I attend the auction of mortal wounds in hidden valley of dust? The arsenal of seductive weapons was a snub to your culture when the fall of extremes was
Rise, oh weary, war-spawned sheep Leave your demons caged in sleep. Travel up above this place Of caste and creed, of greed and waste. Shear the spirit from the host Invoke the remnants of the scourge Awaken sentience in the
Turns me on I will write a poem. Delirious moon had picked me up from under the skin. The safety pin was broken, now a crowd will disrobe me. Everytime when my pain makes you cry oranges are not meant
We talk about Rich and the poor We discuss beauty and ugly We debate over winner and loser We judge the Good and bad We speak about life and death We Quarrel on caste and religion We compare human to
Entering into deathless trance the moon was galloping across the clouds, clad in blue winds, for a spiritual encounter with the sky. A saint in making, a grandson of god, retreats in a religious retreat to taste a forbidden pain
Just by staring at her smile my world became sheer. For the power she had to embrace me just by residing in this little heart of mine. Our love was abundant for me , to be blissed. It made me
Far away from the world of love, hatred and war There is yet another world breathing silently Thats the world of love we call. There holds no boundaries No caste or creed Its purely emotions swirling freely. No land is
Oh come bird and sing upon the Willow tree, a note of your little hearts well being. To a host of wild flowers, in colors of a rainbow queen! Walk on the soft green grass, for joy in heart it
I’ll build an island. Away from the home where I was born. Away from the seas and oceans. Far to the galactic ridges of confer. Houses made up of lively lives. Where love is not lust But lust makes you
Being Alive is to feel the breath…that cannot be felt after the death… Being Alive is to feel yourself beyond the senses…that capture your spirit in all the instances… Being Alive is to feel the real you…feeling the consciousness, pruning
Surge in hidden chastity enters the torch but the enemy was within. Brown clouds over the black carbon, glaciers were melting; the assault rifle stands alone in snow. This was not ignorance, a purposeful denial of white truce in the
I was happy communicating with them I was happy unknowingly indulging in their own game Happy on being appreciated Happy on being accoladed Felt each of them close to my heart Sharing things mutually though being miles apart In for
Eyes are better than heart. Heart cannot scan, But eyes can see good and wrong. Heart can be broken. But eyes provide tears, That makes you regret to love. I was told not to fall in love. The deeper it
Do I have a choice before knifing the page for a meaning, when I was drowned in a nostalgia? Cinchona bark. This was my keyword for living bitterly under a tryant inciting the riots of colors. The digital death comes
As I lay in my sleepy bed With your poetic words flowing through my head Wooed by a prince I felt a queen As I sank into a sea of dreams And tho’ consummed by a fathomless flood I awoke
Between want and desire few crumbs of words will not satisfy. Facts and perception build a latticed smile between tears. Discreetly life catches a miasm, a fault to commit suicide. When will the exile end, of hope, a holy womb?
Succinctly speaking There is nothing to be said But a great realization That I must go to bed It’s late and I am tired And a little cranky too Restless I am And in a mood to rue You take
Broken Man When you’re down and out Ain’t no friends about Pissed off you could almost shout But no one here to hear No one comes near Loneliness may be contagious You can pick up ‘loser’ if you don’t wash
Through the veil of mist and uncertainty your smile split the haze, and between its part I saw a truth that shook the chains of my creation to a crumble. What was my reality became the unwanted memory of a
a facsimile of torture candlelit in moony dark i want to unread the anointed death on this tip of an arrow, here it comes the hissed phrase wrenching the gut – for conceptual withdrawl, dawn of dark secrets without footprints
Velvet thorns become signature of my pain and joy. Body paints the naked earth blue. Eyes in hot desert search red poles and blue moon. Emotional strife: dripping accidents with sum flowers, extremely talkative. Then the words litter on white
In the London fog she walks like light Light as soft as the lofty stars Dreams are haunted Liverpool ships Herdwick sheep bleating by Lake Windermere She sounds the bells of destiny Oscar Wilde with a black cane Morose of
When pillars are broken building is to drop With their support roof remains at the top With their strength destination is to hop With out them every effort is to flop Parents are but real mercy of God In their
When twilight meets the evening sun, Waiting to say goodbye, She explodes into a wondrous ecstasy, Making his heart rest without shadows, In her wonderful exquisiteness. He ignites a flame within her Absorbing the fiery colors of his day, Soothing
Everybody has a story, ’tis writ in every face the lines etched, deep as the wrinkles of age.. . Everybody has a story, be it early or late, a life being lived has a tale to relate.. . Everybody has
