Oh! Your Deceitful Lies

Dear Reader

My next poem is “Oh! Your Deceitful Lies”

The poem describes the convincing lies told by established social organisation; religion and such other ideologies. It speaks about how throughout the history these ideologies have fooled people and how people in power have used these ideologies to keep the masses under their thumb and stay in power.

 All through the history people have been killed in the name of religion. In the name of pleasing god many people have been put to death just for speaking out the truth. This poem is a tribute to all those courageous souls who had the nerve to speak up the truth well-knowing the consequence was death.

This poem shows how the lies have piled up one upon other and how they have convincingly mingled with the truth and become the truth. It tries to throw light on the facts and show the reality to the reader.

But after all these cruelty in the name of God and Religion, there is still hope. Brave men and women will one day come out of the closet and realise the truth. They will study all the long held beliefs and reveal the hoaxes to all. They will be ready to climb to the most inaccessible places in search of the truth and will pull down the tyrants who have ruled in the name of god.   

So here it is, I hope you like it and hope the truth prevails.

Oh! Your Deceitful Lies

Oh! Your technique of maligning things

Oh! Your deceitful lies

Champions of Champion you are, no doubt

No matter how much we try

Duplicitous words drip your mouth

As lips are drooling sweet humbugs

 You create the best illusions, no wonder

Friends in reality are actual thugs

With your one word or a phrase

Fertile land is declared moor

And if anyone begs to differ

They are sure to die in the war.

Layer by layer your lies are piled

Gracefully arranged into a peak

Ideas are killed and massacred

Leaving no loose-ends, no leak

But men, truth seeking men, will

Find truth from your hidden boxes

No doubt soon they will triumph

 Smashing off all your hoaxes

The eyes will soon be opened

To release the burden we carry

To caught you by your throat

We are ready to climb up your eyrie

-          Sydney B. Monteiro

To dare, not to endure

Dear Reader

This poem “To Dare, Not To Endure” is dedicated to all those brave women out there on their day; the women’s day. Although personally i feel every day should be a woman’s day.

This piece of work was created about a year ago as a tribute to all the women who have suffered under the male dominated society and also to those women who have found courage to fight against such injustice.

In most places today, the struggle of a woman starts right when the first ray of the sun falls on her face. Well in some cases they are not even allowed to see the first sun-ray. But still with all these oppressions and brutal subjugation, a woman dreams of being a free bird flying freely in the blue sky. She dreams of being a free flowing river, which makes its own path as it flows. But soon she realises that to live this dream she has to fight, she has to step into the race against the time, against the common belief that women belong only in their confined world, against societal pressure and hope for a miracle to win it.

The race path is hard and filled with pain, but she has to ignore the pain and move on. Surprisingly she doesn't encounter any scary looking beasts or tough rigid terrain. But she faces staring eyes, mocking at her and looking to humiliate her and draw some morbid fun.

She finds herself climbing the never ending stairs of responsibilities and useless commitments. But she climbs them all, because she has decided she will no longer be still but she will overcome the hindrances, she will no longer keep quiet she will speak it out and she will no longer endure but she will dare.

She doesn’t need your sympathy or your pity, all she pleads for is a fare chance to run her race.

The poet through this poem urges all the oppressed woman out there to dare and not endure. Please don’t keep quiet, please speak out, and please fight back. Yes patience is a virtue, but there is no honour in it if it costs you your lifetime. The poet also urges the men to respect their women, give them a fare chance to fight their war. Be the extra arm that fights for the women. Be the extra leg that walks the extra mile for the women. And lastly dear men, dare and not endure.

“Happy women’s day”

So here it is, I hope you like it.

To dare, not to endure

She stepped into this world

With a shining glow.

Like a flowing river

She wished to flow.

As the first burning sun

Hit her face.

She knew she had,

Stepped onto the race.

With every step, with every move

Her feet landed on pointy ground

The stinging pain; she did not care

Towards triumph, her walk was bound.

Never she met any jagged thorns

Or brutal beast with hairy fur. 

But morbid fun seeking eyes

For eternity, preying on her.

 She was tired and tethered

At times.

Her laden legs climbing the stairs

Superior strength as she climbs.

 To dare and not to endure

Her motto was pure.

On top once, she’ll celebrate

 Till then, it’s a struggle for sure.

Not your pity, not your sympathy

She desperately needs.

Only a fair chance to run this race

She desperately pleads.

-Sydney B. Monteiro

The Innocent Lamb

Dear Reader

My next poem is “The Innocent Lamb”

This piece of work was created about a year back as a tribute to all those people died in the shameful act of humankind, The Holocaust.

The poet is a victim of the holocaust in which approximately six million Jews were killed by the Nazis. He explains how the Jews were systematically massacred in the history’s biggest ethnic mass-murder. The non- Jewish victims of the holocaust included Gypsies, Poles, Communists, Homosexuals, Soviet POWs and the mentally and physically disabled. The most disturbing part of this holocaust was that one million Jewish children were mercilessly murder along with the adults of the group in the concentration camps.

The poet first speaks about his experience in the Nazi Ghetto. He compares his situation to that of an innocent lamb which is kept in a bad maintained restricted area (Ghetto) before the slaughter. He further describes the conditions of the Ghetto. He and his people are all hurdled together in a closed place and their cloths are stripped to their bare minimum. Their cloths are torn off just like a sheep’s fur is trimmed off.

The poet further describes his situation in the concentration camp. All the people are chained and lined up together. The chains look like the ornaments and decoration on the body of a sacrificial lamb. The poet is waiting for his unknown fate just like how an innocent lamb unknowingly waits to be sacrificed at the altar to please the gods. The poet is forced into the concentration camp and killed using poisonous gas.

The poet might have dead a painful death along with his race. But he knows one day his kind will fight back his merciless ethnic murderers and bring justice to his people.

So here it is, I hope you like it.

The innocent lamb

The fallen Twigs,

The fallen Hair.

This filthy world

I can’t bear.

Stuck together,

 Like human cells.

Necks are tied with,

 Jingling bells.

Dug us, just like,

They dug out a clam.

Lined up and decorated,

The innocent lamb.

Like the sheep

Whose fur’s being trimmed.

They striped us

Our shame being skimmed.

Pushed into a small chamber

Stuffed and chained.

Heavy doors closed

My bowls drained.

Secured doors

No soul could flee.

Gases hissing through the vents

No men could see.

Smelling the gases

I burnt my lungs.

In the most painful style

Death showed its tongues.

My race

Died its death proudly.

But we’ll come back one day

Screaming out loudly.

-Sydney B. Monteiro