Forgive The Poets

By Gaurav Juyal 

I want to enter a room 
Like Maya Angelou
Presence felt and leave 
Like Dylan Thomas
Presence missed
But if poetry was Syria
I am its civilian looking for my 
Daughter in the debris
Presence bombed, presence photographed
I am the late arrival and first steps leaving
Because the vice versa would mean
Greetings exchanged and conversations made
And if you haven’t noticed
I am the odd one out kids from class one
Are expected to color in their drawing books
The first leaf abandoned by trees in autumn
Keats gone too soon
An orphan listed for adoption
Also, I stutter
But everyone seems to know already
I wonder how
I am not bones and skin
I am burning bones and scarred skin
I walk fast, talk slow
I am once bitten forever shy
One fine day, 
I fell from the bike
And fractured my brain
I don’t remember 
In the aftermath of the concussion
What came first, the stutter 
Or the poet?
I am potions mixed in uneven proportion
Darling, you are advised to proceed 
With extreme caution
I am the product of a failed abortion
But do not fear the oceans surrounding me,
Fear the son of Tagore
I am making every ocean Indian
We know perfumes, we do not know people
Fair skin is laid bare for the stares, the stitches are sealed 
So quit saying you have walked in my shoes and Therefore you know what it feels like
I walk barefoot
I would not trade 
My insecurities for your comforts
Your comforts are made 
Of crockery from China
And less for the helpless
My insecurities are made 
Of blood diamonds from Africa
And help for the helpless
You’re a major 
I am a miner
A saying goes
Hit where it hurts the most
Do they hit me everywhere 
Because my entire body hurts
Or my entire body hurts
Because they hit me everywhere
My body has now turned into this question
I’ve been asking all my life
Now it is just written on my skin but in vein
For people to read before they hit 
Dear Apollo, 
I hope one day, I’ll be answered
One day, the beating will stop
And I am allowed to cry, open the god dam gates
And flood towns made of criminals behind cosmetics
The poet can rebel, and sleep
And not be afraid to speak
And cut words in half, like they cut my world in half
The only difference is
My poetry is self healing
My body 
Not so much
One fine day, 
I fell from the bike
And fractured my brain
I am not bones and skin
I am building bones and stitching skin
Tell me
What came first, the stutter 
Or the poet?


  • Thank you everyone. I am humbled. ❤

    Gaurav Juyal
  • My heart skipped a beat when i read #6. Just awesome work!

  • You outdo yourself with each verse

    Kirti Kaur
  • Stupefied!

    Number 5, stole my breath.

    Nijhon Tapasya
  • This is absolutely amazing! Every line more potent than the last.

    Divya Mondal
  • This is superb!!!!

    pragati joshi
  • This is superb!!!!

    pragati joshi
  • Amazing work! Very well written.

    Ishmeher Singh Ahuja
  • Beautiful poem!

  • Marvellous piece !! Phenomenally written.

  • Wow!!
    Its amazing!

  • This is beautiful Gaurav, will never tire of reading this one :’)

  • beautiful and inspiring ?

  • You never fail to amaze us! Beautiful ❤️

    Tanuj khandelwal
  • Wow. Great man????

  • Loved this! :)

    Ramsha Datta
  • Inspiring work, Gaurav. Amazed!

    Tavleen Kaur
  • Great work Gaurav.

    Shreya Dimri
  • Nice work. I loved this poem.
    1st stanza is amazing.

  • This is pure gold! Nice work Gaurav :)
    Hoping to see more of your works here !!

    Harshil Khatter
  • Great work Gaurav??

    Yatan Palta

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