Social Justice Poetry

Krushna Chandra Mishra

Poverty | A Social Justice Poem by Krushna Chandra Mishra

What a testing tool this poverty is
to keep the chaff out from the grains
to let the foolish world admit
all is not that gold in shining
and silver screens may not
always be behind all dark clouds
and between the moon and the bread
there always hangs hunger
as the poor never afraid of falling
from a cliff where death reigns
if there is the scent of food brewing
and if elsewhere amid junkyards
and in bio-undegradable polypacks
rotting for days and turning poison
food is visible to the eyes of those
starving emaciated shrivelled bodies
in skinned skeletons as they romp
the land not knowing what looks
life-giving is very soon going to
be spinning out death for them.

Poverty equates in hunger and death
telling nothing really matters
in this tyrannical world where
when the people die hypocrites
in slinging mud on every face are heard
when all is set for nothing to be clearly seen
to fix and find and fine the fools
who in cunning hide in havens
of safety that confusion breeds.

Should the Subaltern Speak… | A Social Justice Poem by Krushna Chandra Mishra

On seeing them speaking
after years looking askance at them
and thinking they could for eternity make
bread out of lies made of the best yarns
culled from garments they were never
given to wear; they saw clad
and speaking in demanding tones
those very people whose custodians
they had become, and sensing fear
from those multitudes whom they
bullied and misrepresented for long;
now in search of new rhetoric,
these vultures and jackals are out
to find unity they now find lost
in misleading the world and
now having nowhere to
be safely led into for ease
of business and of living.

Promises to Hold Firm To | A Social Justice Poem by Krushna Chandra Mishra

Year after year of rains
as victims they fell
crying for shelter and succour
as they thought their woes
won’t unaddressed go
when they have already
made the hands of the party
they favoured while giving
it the throne for years
over which they thought
they had heard the words
well enough not to be confused
that their woes would go
with a rain of days that
would be flooded with
good all round that for
centuries they had not seen
under colonial rule and the rule
that has been there as
transfer of chair and chance and
words continue term to term
when elections come
and words rain and hope rains
and a future at hand calls them
to drench in the promises now
to be washed away to new destinies
with powerful floods of actions
of all sorts they stand confused
to brand those good or bad
or just shadows that whirl
and vanish over deserts
when the sun is strong
and the birds flying low
searching for perches
that are never at hand
in gloom gather strong
and in whispers call others
to rally fast and make
worlds deliver the promised
land of milk and honey.

Hearts of Our Times | A Social Justice Poem by Krushna Chandra Mishra

They said in their grandfathers’ days
there were no restrictions on anything
if they wanted to go anywhere
they could go alone and in great
and friendly company of men who were not
crooked or cheats
and thus the trips turned out to be
for enjoyment and health
and happiness that could grow
without bounds with the promise
of increasing health and happiness
on all trips that were set to follow
and they had then the scope for more trips
and still more till the company grew stronger
and life in simple ways drew longer
till they now realise and say
if there would be a way to return
to their grandfathers’ days of a simple life
of health and heart and happiness
when today ways to maximise the same
are more and sure that somehow
we could shun bitter and bad ways of
rotting and foul-smelling hearts
that in crookedness breeds hatred
and jealousy and meanness
making civilisation a thing to
question and discard with ease.

Dreams Weird and Hard | A Social Justice Poem by Krushna Chandra Mishra

As much insult you have
heaped upon the weak
thinking they cannot
confront you,
you in your own
weirdest of dreams
shall never have met
how more than that
in simplicity and unity
these people of the best
of spines available to the species
in the longest story of its
evolution shall return you
making you recoil in silence
to your crooked civilisation’s
smoking spinelessness.

Hunted Down | A Social Justice Poem by Krushna Chandra Mishra

For how many years since the first,
how many times in how many ways,
hunted down in the strangest conditions
when secured most I have always felt,
believing in companies and kinship
to my utter surprise and to my deafened wit
when there has come no proper answer
I have just learnt to wait in silence
for a just world’s voice to descend,
to hold me by hand with consolation
reassuring me that no more, and it is
no more, in the future anything the like of
the present humiliation would
be repeated ever and in great
patience since then always like now
I become silent to hear several times repeated
the same drab voices that in shame
drown my head as I feel if again
I should turn to you for help, support
or care or consolation once for sure
I know nothing like justice shall yield
in this vast blind universe of words.