Despite blood and beating, mauling and bawling, I won…
You thought your violence would unravel my violence, but guess what, I am not the epitome of weakness
Hello,
Beautiful Folks, Are you guys doing alright? Hope you all are. I was thinking to offer you something to read today, but it will be intense. We all have suffered bullying in some shape or form right we all have that’s a no-brainer, even if you were the bully in school you became bullied in your home where either your elder sibling or father bullied you.
Bullying works in hierarchical forms, where it starts from the authority, then comes to the state/peripheral region, then owners of institutions, then to your father then to you, then to the person you bully. This write-up, which is a piece of poem tries its best to keep the sentiment of power exertion in mind, but also tries to voice a person who gets bullied, their voice of countering their bullies without changing their nature or behavioral traits, yet being radical, peaceful, and strong. You know, Mahatma Gandhi, I am from India and most of my subscribers are from the Western world. So, I am just introducing some aspects of his life that might not know, but Gandhi is a world icon and I am well aware that you guys know him and his ideas pretty well, but just sharing my thoughts on his ideas of radical peace.
Gandhi never raised a voice or a stick, but everyone feared him. Why? Because he was loved by everyone, if the populous knows he is being harmed in any manner or form directly or indirectly, they will turn the alleged culprits to mulch. But, regardless many feared him because he goes on hunger strikes which is a sign of radical peace, to protest against the ruling structure and establishments. This same method King Martin Luther Jr. appreciated and tried applying to the Black rights movement and deemed effective.
So, I will live you all for a read then,
Yours affectionately,
Kallol Poetry
Facing denudation of self
Rise and rise my spirits, for the brutal souls have started scorching the earth,
Look for the weak, prey upon them, thrash them, discard and reject them from the common conscience.
They prey on misfits, adjacent fits, and obtuse fits; to rise and rise to boost their basal primal depressed soul.
They run and run, look for prey on their hunt, search and search, act like a predator, and usurp someone for being unconventional, and unpredictable.
Beyond the beat, most beats can’t symphonize and make a song, When the latter was a song itself.
A song taming the other side, more like abuse to trap the subtle speaker, an emotion seeker, an Altruist of epic proportions.
All can’t yield the same substance, so thrash the one who can beat you, while you prance and follow, like a cunning Jackal in pitch dark nights. Dominate, repudiate, ideate, and Curate a sense of incessant mockery that crush the bones and the self-being of the person.
For no one wants to kill the victim, they want to sterilize their kindness, bouts of entrenched empathy to bear and shine bring out the real demons and devils.
Once they have germinated the seed of hatred, now they are proposing a system of debauchery, deceit, hierarchy, and cat and mouse game. To hunt down so-called misfits of an allegorical kind.
But peace is a challenging constant, yet achievable,
Not because we are misfits, but because we are beyond the cult that wants to till the soil of hatred, tyranny, and oppression.
To take back the system and percolating ideas to a rock-solid chauvinism, a cruel brute subsystem that intoxicates the current ways and manner of living.
I am stronger than you think
The hidden stories have started to hide more and more,
As I am trapped indoors facing the big bulls again, they run and run to lock and kick with their legs and horns,
They are like a devil in making, shaking, and evolving, choosing not to remain in the shackles of modern living
They are trying to contextually project the problems of irony and hypocrisy in the current space, where everything and anything can be dubious in the modern world.
To let their devilish sides take over them, to rule in the phantom of feudal structures of sorrow and rusty emotions, to imbibe a sense of domineering feeling over the Defeatists.
A skid mark in the rotting iron, a fungus jammed in the bamboo opening; and an alter realized mankind that shapes and feeds them.
They will beat you and turn you into a dissipated ruble, a broken flower vase, a shiny glazed bat that hates the sunlight.
Cold ice to turn it into the water, and then evaporate it till every ounce of it is lost in completely hot air.
A precursor of dense air while filling in the heavy winds’ pre-existing vacuums to turn heavy again. Heavy till the point it condensed into clouds, cooling and cooling and then melting and washing out torrentially as rains.
The lashing out of peace and power is a creationist making, for water is a heavy caresser, it drowns you in with love, while the fire burns you in heat till everything is bloated, fire will reduce you to nothing.
I am the harbinger of Justice
Tame me, the silence, gorge, and the beat down coming in 1, 2, and 3…
Try me, for I am fire smoldered into a shiny diamond from the coal that I was because of you.
Try to see my persistence, grit, and determination that will outdo all your cataclysmic violence.
You give me violence, I will give you peace, till I can and I can a whole lot, till the soul churn and minds turn, till I reach your soul.
Inspired by Gandhi’s Satyagraha, I am a beacon of light for you, follow my trail,
He said, “We are in a much bigger fight with our colonizers. If you want to win, follow the epilogue of Satyagraha. For it is not the truth of my physicality, but the soul seeped within us, it's a war of conscience, not conflict. Resist till you can by reaching to that moral conscience, a beam of light that exists in every den and depth of darkness, in the hearts of our cruel land occupiers. Even if you die, you will be a winner in annals of history.”
Even if you shove me into a black abyss, I will come out shining and beaming in pride, like a new furnace of illumination.
Blood poured, Covered in face farcical of your torn soul while taking pride in tearing my skin out, and,
As said, I dare you to try me, I have become stronger, a gazer and a dreamer,
Watch out for your pins and depths of hell that you are consumed in, They will consume you.
Watch out for the power bed riddled with nails, it will skin you.
For all the tremours and trauma, I will suck the soul out of you to permeate goodwill, belonging, and righteousness.
As the beating rages, the one-sided fight continues, like a spree of cyclical events, But as I said try me till you can.
I am here, all here, ever-present, ever-existing, ever-persisting, ever-fighter to let you attain justice for yourself, for the deranged goon you are.
I will sink out all the poison off of you like a snake biting you a second time to kill the venom that seeped into your hearts.
(Cosmic Context will be a section where I will explain the theme of my written poem)
Cosmic Context: This poem reaches deep into any bully’s heart, a cruel being that likes torturing people. Other people’s wounds and sorrows are like bits of pleasure for them. Here the verses, try and analyze the intense demand for peace, for being radical towards the justice of a bruised soul that likes beating someone up. To be angry, brave, and domineering for the systems eating our humanity up.
Hope you liked this piece guys. Lots of wishes for the rest of the day, take care, see you later.
-Kallol Poetry
The Curse of Melanin
Unison in defining skin, reckless beings with assumed profanities Deeply ripped and dug with presumptuous subconscious drilling, Feeling the assuaged, hyphenated roars for the uproar is still boiling. Yet the cataclysm lay bare, in kingdoms and territories so clear, amassed by a striking glare