Kangleimaichou

What sort of a nation Is it, my poor dead man? Oh, the mighty old land Where we exist in songs. Why did you die so early, My dear muddy ones? Their songs were too sweet Their stories too distant. What were you when alive, The one killed in the forest? Once a hunter-gatherer With our tribal codes Hunted without fun For it was what we did. And you, the ones Who took his own life? Caked in thick mud Smelled of manure Could read the sky But knew not well The world of speculation. What sort of a nation Have they made now? A mighty known nation Where children hate the sun The moon is feared Where people laugh When they are told A great coloured nation Where poets are obedient Their verses are stamped That sort of a mighty nation Where everyone is erudite Yet can't tell the smell of mud Were children are incubated So they can see the h...

I am a patriot That visible patriot  Who pees in public I am that patriot Who stains the city walls With my gutka juice I am that patriot Who owns a car Honks his way through Litters the streets Of my beloved country I am that patriot Who burns fire crackers To pollute the cities more Even though I know Our beloved cities Are already gas chambers I am that patriot  Who calls for supremacist And majoritarian politics I have no shame In denying the minorities What we patriots enjoy I am that rich patriot Who follows politics Whose support  For radical politics Is without shame Beside my patriotic vote, I even donate money To prove my patriotism I am that patriot Who wields a sword To gift the country Numerous mayhems So that they know We are around We rule the place And you, the traitors Should live below us I am the patriot Who wants others  To love what I love Who wants others To follow what I follow Who wants othe...

Aryan-adopted children With glued feathers leap high seeking Higher in desperation Loud is their voice With eyes seeking Louder is the voice When not heard Then they begin Of course in desperation Strutting in the feathers Then repeating Of course vigorously Only to fail with shame Then the bastards rethink What they must employ Must they relearn all? Must they recite the verses? Must they be like the naga Smeared in ash paste ? Then they look West Try to rephrase The hackneyed slogans In that they fail too So they holler down The borrowed slogans War on Drugs Prosecute the violators Skill the farmers Root out poverty These they holler Without failing a day As though to spawn More contractors Than farmers The ingenious kind Who can top roads With paper-thin tarmac Or who can brush roads Such a place they crea...

Only if one knew This was to end With such grief With such curse This throbbing heart One should have stabbed Till it turned pieces The morbid sight Would please you The dripping streams Would soothe you Its dreadful colour Would put you to sleep Ease would be yours But solace would be mine I would stand tried And clearly vindicated Thus your remorse Ever fairly exacted Such is the fate One should meet Such is the tragedy One should enact To please you To please you all To undo the strain You would like it When it glimmered In far distance Which you could ignore Even forget it When you chose so Perhaps the torrents Would put it out Then the thick mist Would shroud it Till it turned Just another memory And such memory One can easily erase