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Squeezed Light

April 19, 2018 | By

A hard-hitting poem about rebellion, revolution and the one of the bitter ironies of human life in the post-modern context.

“Proud were their wings when they flew; Not even aware that they were puppets”

Surrounded by a sober night;
And tranquilising the infinity;
Wooden hearts were trespassing the polished city;
To release the hairs of war;
They knew how far they can go;
Their bleached intuitions were reluctant;
Anarchy moistened their epithelium;
‘Ponder’ had little space within their cells;
Organic revolution was their aim;
To melt the quiet hearts inside them;
Proud were their wings when they flew;
Not even aware that they were puppets;
They were made to tempt the peace;
Some placed them in the genre of ‘exquisite’;
While others among ‘humans’;
Rebellion woke up among the animals;
While humans turned willingly towards being vulnerable;
Deep inside they missed the silk;
Universe collapsed between the war;
Two groups chanted their own songs;
They believed that even after the collpase;
Universe will breathe in its exhausted body;
Dry bones blackened with pests;
Fed on the manuscripts of life;
Delusion of the end came faster than light;
Humans on the Vertical roads started to suffocate;
The transaction of hatred was passive;
Humans never knew that the night was sober;
They believed the fire will melt everything;
But the saliva of the sober night never came to their surface;
Drenching the wildflower in their dreams;
Revolt came from one way;
While dead hatred engulfed the hunter’s ability;
The exhausted universe witnessed deaths;
It now lives cornered and trembling;
To never release its intimacy with anarchy.

Read more in Poems

The Evil In Me

Ganga, A Cry

When I Am Just Me


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Learning and Creativity publishes articles, stories, poems, reviews, and other literary works, artworks, photographs and other publishable material contributed by writers, artists and photographers as a friendly gesture. The opinions shared by the writers, artists and photographers are their personal opinion and does not reflect the opinion of Learning and Creativity emagazine. Images used in the posts (not including those from Learning and Creativity's own photo archives) have been procured from the contributors themselves, public forums, social networking sites, publicity releases, Morguefile free photo archives and Creative Commons. Please inform us if any of the images used here are copyrighted, we will pull those images down.

Kabir Deb was born in Haflong and completed his schooling from Kendriya Vidyalaya, Karimganj. After that completed his Graduation and Masters from Assam University, Assam. Poetry has been his passion and a hobby from childhood. He looks forward to change the society with the power of poetry. His work has been published in 'To be my Valentine' edition of Hall of Poets, Reviews Magazine, Bhor Foundation, Different Truths Magazine. He has recently received The Social Journalism Award from the Different Truths Magazine.
All Posts of Kabir Deb

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<div class=at-above-post addthis_tool data-url=https://learningandcreativity.com/bipade-more-rakkha-karo-translation-tagore/></div>Translation of one of the most beautiful and motivating Puja Parjay songs of Tagore from Geetanjali.<!-- AddThis Advanced Settings above via filter on get_the_excerpt --><!-- AddThis Advanced Settings below via filter on get_the_excerpt --><!-- AddThis Advanced Settings generic via filter on get_the_excerpt --><!-- AddThis Share Buttons above via filter on get_the_excerpt --><!-- AddThis Share Buttons below via filter on get_the_excerpt --><div class=at-below-post addthis_tool data-url=https://learningandcreativity.com/bipade-more-rakkha-karo-translation-tagore/></div><!-- AddThis Share Buttons generic via filter on get_the_excerpt -->
Translation of one of the most beautiful and motivating Puja Parjay songs of Tagore from Geetanjali.