The Fallen Jewel

Dear Reader

Presenting to you my next piece of work “The Fallen Jewel”

It’s a simple poem which speaks for itself.

The poet describes his loneliness in this poem as he find suddenly been rejected by his love. He describes his life as a piece of beautiful jewel which was once properly balance on both sides; as he was in love with a perfect girl who understood him in every walk of his life. He thought that this was the right girl for him and that he could spend the rest of his life with her. But in a sudden turn of events his life turns into imbalance. Suddenly things do work between them and they start having misunderstandings and fights. They no longer love each other but they become mere actors who play the role of life.

 He find himself in a situation where he has to choose to live with his love who has suddenly changed, who no long cares for what he is or for what he wants for them. She is only bothered about herself and her own well-being. He tries to live with her, but sadly his jewel has fallen, he no longer can bare it.

The thought of leaving her makes him miserable and he has no other way than to live with her; unless he is ready to die.

So here is it; “The Fallen Jewel”.

The Fallen Jewel

It was bright and alluring

Just one beautiful jewel

Balance on both sides

Supported by one newel

 

But now it’s fallen

Forever i presume.

Turning balance to imbalance

My life cannot resume.

When you understood me,

 My life beautifully flowered

But now it’s parched dry

The colors are all withered

Peace is a distant word

Peace of mind, nowhere to be found

Escape, none i have now

Death seems to be a safe ground.

-Sydney Billford Monteiro

Stay back for a while with me

Dear Reader

My next poem is “Stay back for a while with me”

This poem is about a girl who is in love with this boy, so very madly. But sadly for her, her love is busy in life’s serious affairs and has no time for her. She feels alone, lonely and betrayed. But still she tries to work on it.

She requests him for one last time to stay back with her and spend some time with her; just with her.

She complains that the time which otherwise was simply wasted could have been wasted with her.

She gives up all hope and says she wants to forget all the great moments they had together, but alas her heart doesn’t want to forget them. Her eyes and lips are longing to taste those wonderful moments they had together.

Finally she wonders if the worst thing has happened. She is scared to ask but still dares to ask if he is bored and tired with her.

She requests him for the one last time to stay back and spend some time with her.

Here’s if, hope you like it.

Stay back for a while with me

Just one time, oh this one last time.

Stay back for a while with me.

Never will i invite this grace time again

But this once you bestow upon me

Time otherwise vaguely wasted, by you

Set it aside and live it with me

Even still, you feel like wasting it

Then come along and waste it with me.

Wonderful moments I want to forget

But this heart doesn’t agree with me.

Eyes are searching, lips longing, to

Taste those times you had with me.

I wonder, but am scared to ask,

Are you bored and tired of me?

One last time, just once more will I ask

Stay back for a while with me.

-Sydney B. Monteiro

Your Seven Deadly Notes

Dear Reader,

My next poem is “Your Seven Deadly Notes”

In this poem the poet shares his romantic experience he had with his one and only love; Music. He describes his love for music as if a man describes his love for a beautiful woman.

The poet says that the seven notes of music are so deadly that they can just kill him. He has so deeply plunged into music that he says that the seven notes will kill him but they will also take him to heaven to the everlasting life of paradise.

Each musical note will kill the poet one at a time, but the poet is ready to be born each time to be killed. He says the deaths he is dying are beautiful and worth dying for.

The poet wants to die holding music close to his heart at the time of death. Just like how a dying man wants to hold his woman’s hands and have the last kiss.

After the seven deaths the poet wants to rest in the paradise of music for ever as the musical notes still continue to tickle his eardrums, giving him goose-bumps and killing him softly over and over again

So dear reader, hope you like it.

Your Seven Deadly Notes

Seven times you killed me

With your seven deadly notes.

Ah! What beautiful deaths were they

As if fate had planned and wrote.

We were happy and we were sad

Like, you had planned it all the way.

Stole my life in a matter of seconds

And you fled blissfully faraway.

Seven times i took birth

Seven notes to live with

But you had to choose

Seven notes to die with

Nothing could change, nothing could alter

The path we once chose.

We had to live, or rather die

Holding hands, lips too close.

It so swiftly happened

In just one mighty blow.

In seconds life transformed to death

And everything moved so slow.

Now, as your notes play

Tickling my tender ear-drums.

In this paradisiacal home above

They give me a thousand Goosebumps.

-Sydney B. Monteiro

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

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