Who is your god,
Who is mine?
In the mêlée of confusion
We hurl stones on
One another...
Gods once thrown
In splash of colors
At the street corners
To fill growling bellies
Changed sides to slip
Into the silken hands
Of the ochre robed
Corporate barons to
Augment their multiplying
Riches and to change
Nauseous power from
One hand to another
Paraded ostentatiously
In repulsive nudity
Your god and mine get
Disrobed at all hours;
They get displayed as
Piled up commodities
On end of year sale
The middle class throng
Draining their hard earned
Resources in a desperate
Attempt to dress their gods
The very first two lines start off to greatly impinge on the other lines of the beautiful poem! Lovely Indira!
good poem, God is one and same for all. thanks. May I invite you to read poems written by me and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The voice of a devotee in state of chaos! ! !