A plot of more than 300 square yards,
Our house is being built within it,
And the architectural model,
It is just very beautiful to look at,
Though it is only on paper right now.

Just not a home until we shift inside,
Lamps for construction are lit,
And few nomad workers,
All of those live near that site,
They build the house like their own.

We just do not shift things into there,
Once its construction is complete,
Then we thank mother nature,
Celebrated will be its completion,
And so will be its existence as if won.

Started on Facebook where we came across each other on a page we both liked.
Continues & matures on Hello Poetry as you guided me here seeing my taste..
But it would not end even after we die - because it can't be forgotten by all...
We have our own people here who like poetry and write nice poems too....
These dreams now seen by you & me will one day be materialized.....
Now you have started studying as I had told you to sincerely......
I'm carefree about future with you now - just so carefree.......
So this way our story starts each time we have words........
It'll develop each time we talk with more beauty.........
And until eternity will our story be repeated..........

Imagine a day quite probable in future,
When our expenses exceed our income,
We both will be spendthrift for our kids,
Both of us will have to overwork hours,
We surely will, let us take this pledge.....

The over I ball only has two *****,
I sprinkle the pitch with thickets,
I get spent up and the over is up.

Licking the ***** off the small peaks,
Each dilated eye in ecstasy truly speaks.

The peaks are so natural button-like soft,
Conveying sans the speech the desire oft.

Whenever stiff & excited about to burst,
Titillating the sensuality be with trust.

Jack and Jill
Went up the hill
To make out in seclusion
Coz no water is on the peak
Penetrated deeper inside
Stuck in captivus
Ov'r the hilltop
Into the horizon after

The match on Sunday was matchless,
For Ozzie lost to India with grace,
Indian players snatched from them,
Indians stole the victory so easy,
But it just seemed easy in the end,
Each one of the Ozzie hurlers,
Couldn't even ask for the water.

Virat - great was the beating!

And to be credited is just not Virat,
Anushka Sharma is equally credible,
Had she never broken up with him,
Virat Kohli would still be distracted,
Against ultimate opponents Ozzies,
Our team stood not a single chance,
If not for his sweet vengeful courage.

Oh my angry youthful lover,
This is a poem to pacify you.

You are angry since forever,
I feel so lonely without you.

Please forgive my ignorance,
I'm going to take care of you.

Don't be angry, drink water,
I learnt a lesson, you're right.

You are truly like me inside,
As possessive and as caring.

Pain, pain, pain...
It's getting the better of me,
A walking sample I am,
Of a man sans any heart,
Memories remain only to haunt.

Pain, pain, pain..
It's now becoming run of the mill,
A lot of mental pain & torture,
Since I befriended her,
As I thought that she was *my saviour.

Won't eat my words back.

I'll let this hurt you!

You are gone and I threw you out of my life.

I regret having getting emotionally-bonded with a friend like you - I used to love you.

You were neither brought up the way I was, nor you spent your life in a similar manner.

Let this poem hurt you.

I'll let it hurt you in a similar way you did me.

But I can't possibly hurt you enough, for unlike me you've many other friends too.

I'll let you feel regret.

You made a mockery of our friendship.

I just give my feelings a vague, unclear & indefinite shape through this poem.

Feel my absence from your life, old friend.

Because someday this had to come like this.

You traitors of friendship - what hearts beat inside you!

Perhaps no hearts but only a wretched lying mouths you posses.

The border at Jammu & Kashmir,
One of the highest battlegrounds.
Though that scenery is beautiful,
The soil there is stained in blood.

The blood of terrorists & soldiers,
Sadly defiles the heaven in there.
White peaks often don a red hue,
Those serene valleys face hellfire.

They do not realize that it is vain,
They war in the name of religion.
Disrupting peace and calm there,
They often desecrate the paradise.

Christ is said to have gone there,
After his resurrection of course.
Hindu deities are also fabled so,
The land of Gods and their messengers has been desecrated time and again.

I am going to forget your memories from my heart,
It's as if I'm going to erase my own existence.

This fiddle 🎻 I play so passionately as an art,
It's as if I'm going to shatter it down piece by piece.

I am going to forget your memories from my heart,
It's as if I'm going to erase my own existence.

May these clouds cry their shower along me,
For today, I'm going to weep like grown-up babies.

Fingers hurt, especially the ones in my left hand,
As they slide vigorously on the violin's neck.

Let me rub my regrets onto this rebec's neck,
Ah! The friction on the strings pierced my fingers.

This violin's strings become undone by my ferocity,
I'll sleep, knowing that I can't be loved by any.

She thought that she knew it all.

She was false.

She didn't know that my love's true.

She thought love is being together.
More actively & frequently together.
Poems didn't count for her anymore.
She just wanted all of my time.
Now I hear that she ditched me.
For a new guy.

But it's okay 'cause she's another lesson.
And I'll move on alone.

Call me paranoid,
But I just know me.

Is this being paranoid?

I don't flirt around,
But I am unique.


Call me complex,
But I just know I'm.

Is my time not mine?

It feels early to say,
But I'll win again.


Call me complicated,
But I just know that I'm.

Is this being too complex?

I am surely a paradox,
But I'll sustain alone.

I had been extremely patient,
Wish she was a bit mature too.
With my love she was lucky,
I so wish that I was lucky too.
Hope she showered love on me,
Not a zombie but I am a human too.
But it is Karma and it is not yet shining!

Patience is the word
Of the wise, spoken
Or written through
Jargon of expertise
And experience...

I'll make a career,
I'll make a living,
I'll make a life.

Then I'll have you closer,
I'll have you listening,
I'll have you as my wife.

But,
If you're happy with someone else,
Then I'd just wish you much more,
Health, contentment & happiness.

Wait, if you are mature enough for that.
Love the dream of a beautiful future mate.
Work, on your health and even your career.
Love yourself to be loved by someone else.

Comes not from using domestic produce,
But such products help fiscal deficit reduce.

This life is a big chessboard,
You are the only pawn on your side.

It is your call what you be,
You can be any of the many pawns.

Take care what to choose,
You be a pawn star, not a pornstar.

Polymerase Chain Reaction
Police Control Room
I need to learn the first one,
And its various types.
Ah, the second one can help me get my heart back.

Callie, Oh Marian's Callie,
You Lived A Great Life,
A Life So Great That Only A Few Manage.

Callie, Oh Marian's Callie,
You Were A Great Pet,
A Pet So Great That Inspire Poems About Them.

Callie, Oh Marian's Callie,
Hope You Are In Peace,
If Not So, Let Peace Be Upon Your Sweet Purrs.

Neither you nor I like the ruckus of this world.
We love our peace and we love it when quiet..
One day will come when our hearts will sing...

La di da-da-da...
La di da-da-da..
La di da-da-da.

But do they in reality?

No they don't all love poetry,
Neither do they understand it,
Nor do they all genuinely 'heart' it,
They just click the heart because they can.

The same is true about people saying that they like poems,
Most people think it's a waste of time in totality,
But how insulting it is for is poets,
They will just click heart just for the reason they can.

Like sweet & sour,
Life sure is peppy,
And even a bit more.

Imbalanced like my old diet,
It is more on the sour side.

But it's okay for me,
More patient I'll be.

I'll not make time bend,
For I know not the end.

Making sure to keep her happy,
But forgetting not I'm not a puppy.

Except abandoning it at stakes,
Learning from my mistakes,
Give life all what it takes.

Perfection is really hard to achieve,
Still I try not to budge from the path,
From the harder path to perfection,
For I wish to make perfection mine,
Staying truest is my determination,
Determination to achieve perfection,
For I am the one that will be yours.

His mother was cheated by his father,
Then his mother spent her life in resentment,
And he was deprived of his mother's love.

But then ultimately he found his lover,
The one who gave his life a new contentment,
And she gave his life the much needed love.

He ultimately gained the love of his life,
She regained her mother's spiritual love,
And it was a win-win situation for them both.

"You wrote the best wishes for her,"
She continued, *"I really like it."
And all you ever used to say was,
"I don't like her fake personality,"**
Didn't you continue to cut her off?
You were only jealous of her, yes,
What didn't you do to put her out?

People see my love,
For you, my love,
In these poems,
Which you consider differently,
That you would say are evil,
Probably inept of your attention,
But I do not control anyone.

Not even my own body.

There're lots of differences between the sexes,
And pregnancy is one of them.
The man can not get pregnant,
And the woman can not fertilize herself.
The woman is the one physically expecting,
And the man is pregnant in his mind.
Thinking and planning for his child's future.

Too *****,
Not too funny,
But actually thorny.
Call one your bunny,
But run after money.
******* is yummy,
Only for the dummy.

Conquering the world with fear & terror,
Were their techniques & tactics any good?

If they were genuinely powerful indeed,
Would they not show their might in persuasion?

Instilling a fear of death they would not have put efforts,
Did they not know that death is a bitter but compulsory truth of life?

And today the world is largely unaffected by violence,
Efforts are on to defeat death by peaceful means that involve Ethos & Pathos.

The daddy of the flying swine,
He died as
PigDaddy thanks to a mission
Of the US Army.
Cornered by a K9 agent,
The coward blew himself
And family to smithereens.

Pikachu is not totally fiction after all,
There's this cute rodent called Pika,
This Pika is Pikachu's inspiration,
Found in the foothills of Sikkim,
But the scientists think it's new,
Pika is one tiny Indian rodent,
Its standing posture, its ears,
Have been the inspiration,
Not just now but for long,
Since antiquity it's there,
Only now got discovered.

Here it goes... :-)
So, you descended from those skies,
The moment I saw those pink eyes,
I fell from grace believing those lies,
Bewildered I was seeing your eyes.

Of angels you're a priceless princess,
This is the most real fact in my life.

Unbelievable beauty met my eyes,
Of those herons you're ******,
You are my story's heroine.

Everything about you is so beautiful,
Very trustworthy & honest you are,
Often times you come to my dreams,
Loving this new journey I am to bits.

I am addicted and you are my drug.

I went to the park,
Read the board on the entrance,
It was suggested to plant a sapling.

It said that we plant a tree for our lover,
I counted the number of my past lovers,
And decided to set up a sugarcane farm!

Please do not tell her,
That I miss her presence
In my life - my heart.

Please do not tell her,
That I relive each moment
I spent with her love.

Please do not tell her,
That she needs to read it
I am perfect for her.

Please do not tell her,
That she needs to believe
I am the best for her.

Please do not tell her,
That she can just relax
Instead she'd study.

Please do not tell her,
That she made a mistake
In fact I made one...

I'm a treasure plundered by romance,
I'm a long forgotten dance,
I'm a lost chance.

A young hunter found me,
She is my real destiny,
Now I am happy.

Should be lucid,
Not at all timid,
Neither be confused,
Nor be explicit.

Should be decent,
Not at all rude,
Neither be offensive,
Nor be oppressive.

Her eyes are poetry and a blink of her eyes is a poem.
Her voice is poetry and each of her words is a poem.
Her thinking is poetry and each of her thoughts is a poem.

My love for her is poetry and each of my expressions for her is a poem.
My care for her is poetry and each of my suggestions for her is a poem.
My desire for her is poetry and each expression of my romance for her is a poem.

Our mutual attraction is poetry and each of our confessions to one another is a poem.
Our eternal relationship is poetry and each of our manifestations for one another is a poem.
Our way of talking to each other is poetry and each of our conversations with one another is a poem.

Her eyes are poetry, and
Each blink of her eyes is a poem.
Her voice is poetry, and
Each of her words is a poem.
Her thinking is poetry, and
Each of her thoughts is a poem.

My love for her is poetry, and
Each of my expressions for her is a poem.
My care for her is poetry, and
Each of my suggestions for her is a poem.
My desire for her is poetry, and
Each expression of my romance for her is a poem.

Our mutual attraction is poetry, and
Each of our confessions to one another is a poem.
Our eternal relationship is poetry, and
Each of our manifestations for one another is a poem.
Our way of talking to each other is poetry, and
Each of our conversations with one another is a poem.

I don't believe in any of the world religions because I have different views about Ishwar/Rabb/God.

All My Pain Disappears.
When I see her coming in my thoughts.

Yes the young one is my Ishwar.
She is my Rabb.
She is my God.

She is my sole belief.
Lives in my mind's peaceful region.
She is like a coral reef.
I live in her heart considering her my religion.

She is my soul's relief.
From all these daily worries & tensions.
She is very young friend.
Somebody as young as the new blossoms.
She scents up my days & nights alike.

She is like my child.
Six years & nine months younger female me.
She is my love.
Happy I am & happily I suffer the pain.
She doesn't let my smile fade.

She is my poetry.
Most of my poems come out in her name these days.
She is my divine peace.
Her coming to my life is the brightest opportunity to me.
She inspired me to adopt poetry as my religion.
Her presence gives a meaning to my otherwise meaningless life.
She smiles a very contagious smile I imagine very clearly.

When My Life Is Full Of ***** Mess

Often Replete With The Pangs

Poetry Is My Ctrl+Alt+Del

It Acts As My Escape

From The Various

Pangs Of The

Lonely Life

Which I

Live

It is said in Mahabharata that Krishna,
Who was an incarnation of Vishnu,
Was the Charioteer of Arjun,
The most expert archer.

And Arjun was among the Pandavas,
Pandavas're the legendary winners,
Of the epic Mahabharata War,
That killed uncountable men.

We observe several such incarnations,
In the Kalyuga's modern era as well,
Guiding those who seek guidance,
Showing path to those who need.

I was before joining Hello Poetry,
So lost - so confused - so troubled,
My thoughts so jammed my brain,
But now I find myself calm - so cool.

Here on Hello Poetry,
We have our own Charioteer,
Guiding our own poetry Chariot,
He is an expert, his name is York, Eliot.

I once loved a girl
Or you can say
She once loved me

She showed me this room
Isn't it good
Poetry room?

She asked me to join
And she told me to write some poems
So I looked around
And I noticed there wasn't a rhyme

I sat on the site
Biding my time
Writing poems

We were together
And then she said
"I'm bored with you"

She told me she wanted to explore
And started to laugh
I told her I didn't
And crawled off to write more poems

And when I gathered
I was single
Once again in life

So I wrote a poem
Isn't it good
Poetry room!

If I am in love with you, my lover,
And if they call it a sin in my account,
Let them hang me from the gallows,
I shall readily dissolve in your love.

है 'गर मुझे प्यार जो तुझसे, मेरी आशिक़ी,
और कहते वो इसे हैं इक गुनाह,
तो मुझे फ़ाँसी चढ़ा दें शौक से,
हो जाऊँ मैं तेरे इश्क़ में फ़ना।

Hai 'gar mujhe pyaar jo tujhse, meri Aashiqui,
Aur kehte wo use hain ik gunaah,
To mujhe faansi par chadha dein showk se,
** jaaun main tere ishq mein fanaa.

Writing poem is like,
Pouring out your heart in rhyme form.

Make rhyming strike,
And not regular free form a social norm.

Birdlike, not childlike,
Respect poetry, it's not cuss but an art form.

I want you to have access to my dead body,
For that you better become a good doctor,
I have my own logical reason behind it.

If I am surely to die someday in future,
You should perform my postmortem,
And claim what's yours - my heart.

I want you to donate it to someone,
That someone who would need it,
A part of me could still survive.

The seductress has learnt it,
But never has she earned it.
She always lavishly used it,
Pouting it away to ease it.