A Conversation for The Post Christmas Poetry Competition 2004


Post 1


The Cruel Mother
I felt little tremor,
As it is more and more;
Day by day more hostility.
The world is going to be enemy,
Enemy of my life.
I am a mother,
Three kids;
No more two.
I was a mother of three kids.
I enjoyed the pain from beginning to end;
I enjoyed when my heart is cruel,
Cruel in the world of stoicism.
I had nothing to do:
Cry, weep, howling and tears!
All are static;
Vain in the world of reality.
Here scorching heat;
No food,
Death is inevitable.
Please believe me:
I was not born in barren land,
But I begot them in barren land,
No place of the real mother,
The mother of blood and life.
Here dying lives, fading hopes;
Mothers can't help being cruel,
Cruel in East Africa,
The victim of climate change.


Post 2


Unheeded Life
Little hope;
Wide life,
Day and night,
Goes right.
Every morning,
Joyous sun;
Midday heat,
Becomes fun.
Reddish east,
Stopped the game;
New game,
New name.
Hot pan,
Flavors night;
Wheat cake,
Blessed sight.
Happy couple,
Straw pallet;
Real pleasure,
Lusty bed.
Every morrow,
Every night,
Every struggle;
Every fight,
Little hope;
Wide life,
Day and night,
Goes right.

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