Versetile

The free country

Where I lived in, some convincingly considered,
marriage will be made in heaven,
on the fleshy earth, we breathe;
women breed, men blurt out;
and men are fortuned to dump,
children liberally in abundance,
and echoed piercingly, ay, aye.
Men who butchered lives,
were suitably compensated,
some still voted as lawmakers!
Educated folks who’s jobless,
under-duress turn to alcohols,
drugs, alternatively to suicides.
Rescuing in tragedy, armies are heroes;
But patriots pelted stones at the militias.
The hoi polloi are obsessively to,
protect scratchproof cellphones ,
ignoring protection when driving bikes.
In accidents, more onlookers to victims,
fewer souls to lend hands, to save lives.
Sight of a cop, make us panicky or pleased;
for you could be frame or a bride to silence.
Hotels served the fake zest of lemon drinks,
after meals, the handwash with fresh lemons.
Renowned lady of the hills, a pugilist earn less;
a famed artist who impersonated her, gets more.
We tend to spend more on children’s marriage,
than the financial lay out for their education.
We buy body odour from air-conditioned outlets;
we step out, to walk the roads of foul stench.
We are compulsive to keep our homes clean,
garbage are thrown, at whims and fancies;
ignoring the potential loads of diseases.
Religious locations taught us convictions,
what were preached, we rarely practise.
We are witnessing, the definitive satire;
politics splits us, fanaticism keep us closer;
I am privileged to live, in a Free Country.
Sonny L Khyriem

The Stranger

You walk the narrow pavements of Laitumkhrah.
The sun beating on your face.
You laugh with your friend,
as you fail to recognize me.
I’m in a corner, smoking my cigarette,
looking at you like a perverted man.
I delight in watching you sway your light hips as you move.
I notice the navel ring on your belly button
gleaming with the sun’s light.
Your coloured hair flows down your breast
and your bangles cling.
The Ray Ban shades make you more alluring
as I want to see those eyes,
eyes that have seen pain, joy and love.
Willie Gordon Suting

We are in the same boat

A voice of mankind which rests on
the Brahmaputra to meet the
brimming river the Nile for gliding
the attire of higher arrogance in
the name of inhumane treatment.
The euphonic tune of the neck
clattered to overhear the rhythm of waves in finding the lost tune of heart.
Nomadic journey strives to damage
the extravagance of life for a pleasant
cry to swat the malice of minds.
Cry of the dry land echoed the symphony of peace to mutter the song of hope,
Your immortal singing spreads from heart to mind, feelings to longings, and
birth to death for awakening a proud race in a pride moment. The flute of peace that you played now
mingled in the haughty air to blow the
shameless storm of salvation .
The water of the blue river, the sand
of the dry banks evinced their gratitude
on your fallen tune of noble thoughts.
The hearts of the world muttered
“We are in the same boat brother.”
Parthajit Borah (A tribute to Dr Bhupen Hazarika)