Is the soul of poetry free?
Can you buy the truth?
Wash your eyes!
Listen to the voices closely,
Floating in the air of mutiny-
“Poetry is not a blue jay singing the soft
melancholic songs of nostalgia but
A raven that brings the nimbus of the ugly truth.
It is for creating havoc in the brothels of Bigots,
for massacring the imposters of Legislature,
for unfastening the corsets of sexuality.”
What good is poetry if it does not twist your
Rusty placid guts into knots?
What glory is it to leave if it doesn’t crush your
Ligaments into dust of awe and smoke of solitude.
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