As my body steeps,
Bones infuse,
Organs dissolve;
All I can do is hope
That I’ll add something
To this cocktail of greed.

Once again its protest time
As the crowds organise
Different ideologies one cause
And the movement galvanise

Some woken from slumber
Some just woke to times
Of these heinous repeat crimes
While to most its irrelevant buzz
Until its their time
For the fire blazes on indiscriminate lines

As the candles lit up—placards rise
"Justice for victim", echoes
In phrases and catchy lines
Can they really make impact
Would be a test of time

For what's constant-
Justice delayed and justice denied


© 2024 Ashutosh Joshi

What is it about a national flag
draped over shoulders,
tied at the neck
or wrapped like a toga
that makes me cross the road?
Why do I suspect it covers anger?
Why do I hear a shout of challenge,
rather than a song of honour?
Was it too many urban marches?
Flying London bricks?
And cracked skulls?
Let's put flags beyond reach
on flag poles,
and preferably not at half mast.

The pamphlets are blank,

that is their message, surely --


it's commonly known.

Considers protest at disrespect,
To be the sigil
Of a *****.
In reality
He who chokes down ****
And smiles through it,
Is in actuality.
But what is it,
To remit?

I dance out my anger in the name of the priestess,
draw in her power to extinguish my unrest.
I worship my body in a state of undress,
let my rage break free in radical protest.
I surrender myself to this sacred process,
stomping my feet like an unbridled tempest.

I won't bite the hand that feeds me,
But I'll fight the man that bleeds me
Though the fear of him may sieze me
I won't let the terror freeze me

If we have a rightful reason
To commit an act of treason
Then I see no better season
To do more than put our pleas in

And so what if someone sees it?
Don't be quiet to appease it
To the system you don't matter
So be heard over the chatter

Can't you hear the summon pealing?
From the body comes the healing
Till the time of our releasing
Our resistance be increasing!

they say it's a god-given right
a necessity, meant to be
a part of the American life

but tell me, do you know what it's like
to have to the cold steel of a barrel
pressed between your innocent eyes?