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  Jul 2017 Àŧùl
Gidgette
We are none truly alone,
I've written of this before
I shall write of our souls
And the invisible chains, once more

We are all connected,
By these universal chains
From the beggar on the corner,
To the broker squandering gains

We are seven billion shades,
Different shades of the same hue
From me here in my mountains,
Across the earth to you

Whether you're a dancer,
Stepping to a tune
Or a night fisherman,
Gathering food, under the moon

These universal chains,
They bind us each together
That's what the universe wanted,
And so it is forever

Each time you defame,
Your fellow human across the way
You're defaming part of yourself,
So be careful what you say

This is how its been since the beginning
This is how it is until the end
Be kind to each other,
Remember we're all akin
Oh wow! Thank you my fellow poets. Thank you for reading and liking my words.<3
Àŧùl Jul 2017
The Thames river froze that year,
Ênglish sheep husbandry I tell ya,
The Thirty Years' War continued,
Epic losses to sheep & men alike.

À cataclysmic year for many.

Testing year for **** sapiens,
Ênchanted were the scavengers,
True bounty for dogs & vultures,
Europe almost killed its cultures.
A tête à tête with history.

But human beings are hardy organisms.
They have always recovered from worse.
Most English sheep succumbed to winter that year.

Out of a flock of 20,000 sheep only 35 were left in England that year.

The 30 Years' War (1618 to 1648) that had killed 8 million people overall, had killed many people due to their injuries and the merciless cold.

A retrospective poem reminding the ability of humanity to preserve all life.

The English people had regained much of their sheep flock soon in the 5 years that followed.

My HP Poem #1620
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jul 2017
Mum she is in the beginning,
Armed with a lot of patience,
Rhyming it with an elegant silence,
Yarn of poetry she is threading.

With all her immense patience,
In this wicked world she is happy,
Not worrying about anything,
She keeps her patience unharmed,
Leveraging her happiness on herself,
Of beautiful words she is a lady,
W**ish her I do a lot of happiness.
My HP Poem #1619
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jul 2017
Every single time I am so sad,
And
Whenever your memories bring tears,
How
I distract myself from crying
Is
A simple technique.

I just remember the
Name
Of the most powerful man
And
It makes me guffaw a tummy tuck,
As
I can't really imagine a Trumpet blowing Donald Duck!
My HP Poem #1618
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jul 2017
There's not even a straw of hope,
How to be optimistic puzzles me.
I won't ever have any of the dope,
How to escape what bothers me.
I don't have any moral support,
I'll stop being whitlessly witless.
For that I need some more love.
My HP Poem #1617
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jul 2017
O mighty Lord Shiva!
You chose to come to life in Hanuman,
The all powerful life long bachelor
Who set new standards of service.
Hanuman avatar was the ultimate,
Powerful and immortal,
Hanuman still lives in the mountain.
A piece of Hindu mythology and folklore.

Though I am not a religious man, stories and legends of the monkey God never fail to capture my interest.

My HP Poem #1616
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jul 2017
Scent of flowers,
Coming up my breath,
Forms a Haiku.
Haikus by definition are short 3-line poems of Japanese origin, are often about the nature. They have 5 syllables in the first line, 7 syllables in the second line and 5 syllables again in the third line.

My HP Poem #1615
©Atul Kaushal
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