Analysis of Human
I would hate it if you called me an Indian; tracing my rudiments to an unfathomable myriad of customs and aboriginal traditions,
I would hate it if you called me a Russian; linked various stages of my life to stringent vodka; and exhilarating games of chess,
I would hate it if you called me a Chinese; harboring tiny pairs of eyes; and an intrinsic tendency in my blood to feast on tantalizingly roasted sea food,
I would hate it if you called me an Englishman; blurting countless sentences a day in bombastic slang; blushing to more crimson than the scarlet rose; in poignant alacrity of the stupendously cold winds,
I would hate it if you called me a turbaned Sikh; disseminating oligarchic cigar smoke towards the azure cosmos; brandishing my enemies with valiant strokes of my scintillating sword,
I would hate it if you called me a staunch Muslim; ferociously beating the drums in order to appease Almighty Lord; sagaciously reading through the Quran-e-Sharif; umpteenth number of times in the sweltering day,
I would hate it if you called me a Christian; profusely relishing port wine and robust lamb; whispering with snobbish sonority; as the breeze tried to swipe the majestic candles away,
I would hate it if you called me an Afghani; pampering my royal beard to the fullest as the minutes unveiled; glowing more fairer than the Sun at times; as the moon bloomed full throttle in the resplendent sky,
I would hate it if you called me a Japanese; existing in a world of earthquakes and technology; attired in an oriental tycoon suit; and horn rimmed glasses fitting snugly to the bridge of my nose,
I would hate it if you called me a Scotsman; embellishing my dwelling with exotic ivory and titillating cheese; frolicking in the Alps with my boisterously ebullient kin,
I would hate it if you called me a German; towering like a gentle giant above the ground without a boot on my ingenious feet; riding in supreme exultation every instant on the frontiers of spell binding innovation,
I would hate it if you called me a Hindu; chanting entury old hymns in front of the Omnipotent Lord; entrenching my feeble wrists in a vivid festoon of sacred thread,
I would hate it if you called me an African; dancing in frenzied passion to the beats of the voluptuous jungle; with a jugglery of Herculean muscle protruding from beneath the layers of my magnificently sooty skin,
I would hate it if you called me an Australian; fantastically juggling bountiful discs towards the sky; munching mesmerizing burgers; as the sands by the sea metamorphosed to a perfect golden,
I would hate it if you called me a Burmese; indigenously thumping the soil to appease the rain Gods; swimming voraciously amidst the waves; to capsize my share of fish,
I would hate it if you called me a Pakistani; marching through the streets like a king in my robes of Persian silk; enriching myself in a world of song and princely poetry,
I would hate it if you called me a Buddhist; admiring my tonsured scalp which shone more seductively thanthe cascading waterfalls; incessantly gallivanting through a tunnel of statues and monarchs,
And I would equally hate it if you called me or compared me even a fraction with Almighty Lord; possessing magical powers to transform threadbare mud into glittering gold,
Instead I would be overwhelming honored; could slain my life this very instant for all of you out there; if only you christened and embraced me; as a human.
Scheme | X X X X X A A X X B C X B C X X X X C |
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Poetic Form | |
Metre | 111111111100101100110100010011000100010 111111110101100101111101000100111 11111111001100101110101010001111110001011 111111111100110100010010110111010101010010010111 11111111011010010110101010100110011011111 11111111011001001001010101010111010110111011001001 11111111010010100110011100110110111100101001 1111111110101001101101010100110110101111011110000101 1111111100101000111001000101010011011101010101111 1111111101001001101010100010011000011110101 11111111010100101010010101011101011000111001010011110010 1111111101101110110010010101101001011101 11111111110010010101011001001010110100100101010101101000101 11111111101001001001001010110100101011011100110 111111110010100010011010111010101111111 111111110010101011010111101010100111010100 1111111101001011111101001010100100110101101 011100111111101110010101010101001010111011001 011110101011111101011111111011000111010 |
Characters | 3,439 |
Words | 594 |
Sentences | 1 |
Stanzas | 19 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1 |
Lines Amount | 19 |
Letters per line (avg) | 146 |
Words per line (avg) | 31 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 146 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 31 |
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"Human" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 26 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/50076/human>.
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