UNSPOKEN WORDS

The breeze blows gently, lifting her hair

Above her ears, and her smile is the fare

Into the heart of the Keeper of the Universe,

Who does swear to protect her, for better or for worse;

She is the one, who points the Keeper’s way to the sun

Through an undying bond that guides him free.

Alas! The Keeper remains bonded as, from his dreamy
Stupor he awakes to the harshness of reality that shakes
His ground, spins his world, and the carefully constructed
Shell around his fragile heart first cracks, then breaks
And the juicy syrup of love inside oozes out, wasted.

The Keeper is now vulnerable, shriveled, broken
For all the world to see; the bitter spirits soak him
And he swoons upon their influence, unsmiling;
As, for the shell around his heart, he remains pining.

The Keeper has the strength to extract himself
From the bottomless pits of suffering and penury,
And extricate himself from that cold, ice shelf.

Stronger now, the Keeper knows that his spirit will free
Itself once more and touch the vast blue, endless sky

This moment of weakness for the Keeper shall pass by.

REPEAL 377

It was a beautiful morning, sunny, with a dark lining,
When the Nation arose with indubious expectations
For a sightless puppeteer to appear, and appease the crowd
With her marionettes dancing across a black and white shroud.
The show had a unique story: two men named Jack
Would fall in love, and ride to the stars upon a dinosaur's back.

When came the puppeteer with her box of puppets on her shoulder
And smiled a happy smile, the weather seemed to grow colder;
The puppetry began and the Nation watched in earnest:
All the while the skies grew black, and soon began a tempest;
As Jack fell in love with Jack, a lightning struck the ground
Between them, and the earth cracked open with a terrible sound;
Out of this crack reached a long arm that picked up the two Jacks
And placed them in dank cells, dressed in black-and-white slacks.

This poem is dedicated to the memory of Equality that perished at the hands of the Supreme Court of India on 11 December, 2013. This poem is dedicated to the 100 million people who are from now on, criminals in the eyes of the law. This poem is inspired by the words of Vikram Seth, in "Dubious", which are as follows:

Some men like Jack and some like Jill
I'm glad I like them both but still
I wonder if this freewheeling
Really is an enlightened thing,
Or is its greater scope a sign
Of deviance from some party line?
In the strict ranks of Gay and Straight
What is my status: Stray? Or Great?