[ultimate_heading main_heading=”Megha S Madhu *Featured Poet* – Issue.XXX : July 2017 ” main_heading_color=”#1e73be” sub_heading_color=”#8224e3″ spacer=”line_with_icon” spacer_position=”bottom” line_style=”dotted” line_height=”1″ line_color=”#1e73be” icon_type=”custom” icon_img=”id^48|url^http://ashvamegh.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/10/Ashvamegh-ICO.jpg|caption^null|alt^Ashvamegh Journal Icon|title^Ashvamegh ICO|description^null” img_width=”48″ main_heading_style=”font-weight:bold;” main_heading_font_size=”desktop:34px;” line_width=”3″ margin_design_tab_text=””]a poet in the making…[/ultimate_heading]
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Read the poems by Megha S Madhu
Attitude
The play is about attitude.
One player, millions of spectators.
Play… play… play.
To change. To know.
Draw the circle of life
but now change
the position of your compass
and view it from a new angle.
Change… change… change.
With a smile; with a thought.
Hug your enemy;
hug your friend.
What we achieve being selfish
will no more be; would be rotten on soil.
And race for our greed
will stop in coffin!
Think… think… think.
Remove your mask, and
the blood-sucking smile.
Laugh like a mad one!
Try like a small child.
Hear the lullaby of time
and change your attitude!
Being a Woman
Hey readers!
Look at my pen,
also, look at my words.
Don’t think I am a poet;
don’t think I am a woman.
Yes, I am a mad one.
And born as a human.
At the age of four,
I am a child, then a daughter,
housemate, and at last,
die as a prostitute
without any value.
I am dreams of dreams;
I’m most real of the reals!
I washed several times
my body with sweet perfumes.
The smell was not gone.
Fourteen hands touched me;
seven men raped!
Raped again; tarnished; given pain.
But,
through hot news tickers,
don’t show your sympathy!
Don’t rape again;
don’t prolong the pain.
kill me once and for all
but
tell me why I’m a woman?
Treated differently since birth
falling in love with preys
getting married at the age
when I had to be in college,
oh world!
Oh world for women
is just a cage.
Daughter, wife and finally
a mother…
all that the story means
being a woman.
Save herself,
save her daughter
and finally
the story ends in ashes
when the pages of life burn
one by one.
The Unconscious Fear
Cold wind blowing roughly
awakens my secret desires
kept safe in storehouse of my heart;
it shakes me like a bud
hugs me like a child…
Stars were thirsty to see
clouds were waiting to smell
and an imaginary world created
out of unconscious fear of life
and it’s there
the smiling full moon!
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