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

Her Voice

Dear Reader

Here is my next poem “Her Voice”

This is actually one of my old works which I had written a few years back.

The poem is timed in the cold winter of 2011.

The poet talking about his long lost love; the only girl he loved so much is no more with him now. She left him without any reason. They are separated forever with distance and time and there is no way they could ever be together. But still deep down in his heart, the poet still hopes that one day she will come back to him and they will be together once again forever.

In the chilling winter of 2011 the poet remembers the great time they both had in the previous winter. He remembers the close warm feeling he had with his love. The way she kissed his freezing ears, her warm touch, her silky hair playing against his cheeks and most of all he is missing her sweet voice.

He hopes for her return. But this idea in itself is crazy and he knows that deep down within his heart. 

So, alas with no other option he cries remembering her sweet soft voice.

Here it is, hope you like it.

Her Voice

It fell into my ears and I was in heaven.

Different from all other noise

Now it’s the winter of two thousand eleven,

And I still miss her sweet voice.

Couple of years now, she left me

Miss it more than her dark black eyes.

My love, when will you call me?

Come to me before this candle dies.

Waiting for that day for a long time now

The day, I’ll hear your voice again

You left me, I don’t know why

Just come to me, no need to explain.

Cold it is now, missing your touch

Your warm kiss on my freezing ears

Come back to me please my dear

Don’t make true my worst fears.

Want to feel you once again

Your silky hair against my cheek

Without you, life goes on

Dark, gloomy and bleak

Her Voice wonders about

In the folds of my brain

And my heart cries

Aloud, in pain.

-          Sydney B Monteiro

My Old Man’s Advice

Dear Friends

Here is one of my poem "My Old Man's Advice"

In this poem a father gives some valuable life advice to his son.

He clearly advises him that we have to strive to be successful, but we should also not forget our limits and where we actually belong. There will be dangers with every step of life. So we need to be careful.

Unlike a normal fatherly advice here the father suggests that we should not blindly believe in something just because it seems right. Try finding out the reasons behind what is actually happening. Verify the reasons and understand the events behind it and only then believe in it.

In this poem I have actually tried to portrait a father - son relationship as the relationship of reason. Here I want to show that it is very important to keep in mind that when we raise our kids we need to teach them how to think. Teach them how to believe and why to believe, not merely what to believe.

Well here it is; I hope you like it.

My old man’s advice

He advised me

Rise to the sun

With all your might

But don’t burn like a bun

You have wings

But you’re not a duck

Fly high

Till you meet your luck

You will meet things and events

Unexplained

Don’t be amazed

Knowledge is being gained.

Question everything

And find out

Don’t be a fool

Filled with doubts

Swim till you can

But not far beyond

Beware of the crocs

In the large looking pond

Believe with all evidence

Say it loud with confidence

Give respect to excellence

Shed off your arrogance

-Sydney B. Monteiro

Taste My Brewing Thoughts

Hello and Hi

I am a simple person with complex thought brewing in the kettle of my mind. I tried the paper and it made me happy. I tried the software and again I was happy. Now at any point of my life i could go back and open the papers or my laptop and could re-read my thoughts once again. And yes I was still happy with it.

The brewing thoughts in my mind were now poured in the tea cup. The sugar was right, bitterness perfect and also the creamy topping. Lemon was also squeezed for the sour taste. But it needed someone to taste. Someone to sip it and hold it in his mouth for a moment as the thought's flavour lingered over his tongue for a while. The nerves then taking the taste to his brain, either making him savour the taste and sallow or puke in wild disgust. But then there was no one. Deep down inside my heart I felt something was locked in, something was chained for eternity and never to be allowed out.

But then i realised - rather too late - that I had my saviour in my pockets. The Internet!

Internet as we all know is a powerful media to spread one's ideas; good as well as bad. Its up to the person reading the ideas to judge which one to follow.

I would be expressing my thoughts and ideas in this blog through poems. Some might seem good and some might seem bad. For me they are just my thoughts. Its up to you to enjoy their taste if you like them or just leave them if you don't like them.

All I say is wait for my thoughts and enjoy them.

-Sydney B. Monteiro