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
Sitting besides the window , I watched the gloomy cumulus clouds Above the rolling hills. Suddenly, a gush of wind entered Through the open widow. The sun which tried to make its appearance Through the dark and thick clouds, Hid
The blank page grinned at my emptiness.. Tears fell creating bluish islands… As my hand moved, the page bled hiding white spots; the remains of my love… Each droplet fading away to gloom; devoid of emotions.. I tried moving my
Atop a windswept highland hill above Locheil land Clansmen gathered roun and shook the prince’s haun They raised the standard high cheered till they were hoarse Followed the flying heron across the highland gorse. A,wa tae London toon wi hopes
We are born when we are born. We look around and see what we see. We then get on with it. We deal with what we have. This was true for those born one thousand years ago. It is true
It was celebration of the Panguni Pongal for the sixth day People assemble before the Goddess Kaali, to pray Big sand pot is full of water Below is a stock of wood, set to enter Water is set to boil,
Dance of the Cobra In the shadow of a Supernova Somewhere in the Mist of the Sea Desire encircling You and me The smell of you is Intoxicating and has me Rising to the occasion Tonight as do Your eye’s
While walking to the store, I pass by so many beautiful flowers. There is the beautiful pink roses in full bloom and oleander. As I walk further, I see the beautiful crepe myrtles with Watermelon red, pink carnation and pearly
A woman that only takes and does not give back is not truly loved by anyone in her life Perhaps she cannot forgive anyone and maybe she will never be able to see the light Or maybe she thinks she
The golden pot of Education Education, education, education This is the most powerful weapon one can use to conquer the world. In the modern world we are living in life without education is just like a veld without plantation .
We resolve to turn a new leaf in our lives Yet go back to whining old ways in no time Why do we break promises ever so often? When we want a better future than our past or present Why
Known, nothing will be written about me In any poem, story or essay Known, will not receive any co-operation from Governments Any honest or dishonest award… Nobody will burn incense on the day of my death Except my wife! Nobody
If hate was becoming an absolute truth and love was transcending lies where do we go now? This daily life, I was seeing the pain of troubled identity, turning into punishment of unbecoming. The hired untruths are killing the tender
They will not allow the assisted suicide. The beetles; fiery and drunk. After the betrayal of arithmetic, the spiral staircase. Fireflies set foot on the skies to measure the darkness. The fire between us, of burning fat, of thousand years,
As things material have to start somewhere, Like Big Bang or debris in empty space, Might we then ask if space began from where, The same with thoughts, and all, in every case? A god primordial would appall more minds,
Cambium will cheat one day the pace of climb, snakes will dance peeling off the skin – the urgency of moon to take away the body of victim from sunscape. You thrive on a window switching off the sky. A
