Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Àŧùl Aug 2021
I lay prone on the bed.
What's under me?
Under me is my gun,
This gun has a gazillion bullets,
What for? For shooting towards you,
And where are you?
You lie further underneath me,
You lie supine, with your hills grazing my torso.

I touch your soft hills with my strong hands,
And you make sounds in ecstasy, not the drug, but the experience.
My gun travels in & out of your *****,
And your nails dig deeper into my back.

You express pleasure,
My sweat drips on your throat.
You express pain,
My pace increases in ecstasy.

You start squirming underneath,
You vibrate furiously along me,
I shoot my excited gun at last,
What for?
No, not for taking your life,
But as you are my wedded wife,
Together we should create new life.

You whimper,
I whisper.
You cry,
I pry.
You are relieved,
I am pleased.
We are successful.
My HP Poem #1938
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Oct 2016
The heart is a warm brazier,
When full of love & happiness.
The heart is a cold freezer,
When full of hatred & sadness.

The heart is a happy place,
When full of loyalty & trust.
The heart is a sadder place,
When full of deceit & mistrust.

The heart is a hotter oven,
When full of hottest feelings.
The heart is a colder pole,
When full of negative emotions.
HP Poem #1174
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Nov 2019
In the morning,
When I wake up,
I go to brush my teeth.

And there I see you in the mirror,
Twinkling within my eyes,
As hangover of the dream last night.

I fall in love still again,
When I remember you,
In the morning yet again.
My HP Poem #1807
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Mar 2013
Resented & Hated They Spend Their Entire Nights
Going Back Again to That Time
When They Were Respected, Regarded & Prized.

The Poor Hillmen Often Try Coming To the Mainstream By
Making Their Significance Felt By The
Various Artistic Etchings, Paintings & Musical Pieces.

But They Still Fail To Leave A Mark On The Society
Because Of Their Own Attributes
Their Appearance, Their Ways Of Life & Their Past Record.

Their Men Look Slim - Very Slim They Appear
In This Bloating World Scenario
Far Fit Than Any Other Tribe They Appear.

Their Women Look Beautiful - They Define Natural Beauty
In This Artificially Made Up World Of Fake Faces
But The Men Are Susceptible - To Inflammatory Words.
© Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Mar 2017
The festival of Holi is about colours,
And as well as about all the sweets.

Put the red Gulaal,
Or eat the Gujhia!

Put the purple Jamuni,
Or eat the Gulab Jamun!

Put the pink Gulaabi,
Or drink the Cannabis!

It's not illegal on Holi,
Yes, legal is the Cannabis!

And what you say is Happy Holi!
My HP Poem #1460
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Feb 2017
A writer often hits a block,
As they say, writer's block.
But the immortal writer, you know,
Immortal writers do not hit a block.
I guess that I am one of them,
Not exactly am I another gem,
But I am a bit too different than you.

Words just flow on paper,
When I need, they're here.
But I will not bluff, you know,
Not all my poems make sense.
Immortal writer, I may be,
Not the finest of them all,
But I do learn from all of you.
A writer's block is something I refuse to believe in.
When I don't feel like writing, I just don't write.
I don't waste that time proclaiming that I hit a writer's block.
Also, I know that for many writers a writer's block exists.
I don't blame them, I am just jealous of them that they get something I never get.
My HP Poem #1451
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jun 2015
Ah, so kind and so cute,
The loyal and so beautiful,
Uninteresting and engaging,
L**oving perpetually & timelessly.
My HP Poem #882
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Apr 2013
Transliteration:

Jana-gaṇa-mana adhināyaka jaya he
Bhārata bhāgya vidhātā
Pañjāba Sindhu Gujarāṭa Marāṭhā
Drāviḍa Utkala Baṅga
Vindhya Himāchala Yamunā Gaṅgā
Uchhala jaladhi taraṅga
Tava śubha nāme jāge
Tava śubha āśhiṣa māge
Gāhe tava jaya gāthā
Jana gaṇa maṅgala dhāyaka jaya he
Bhārata bhāgya vidhāta
Jaya he, jaya he, jaya he
Jaya jaya jaya, jaya he.


Translation:

Thou art the ruler of the minds of all people,
Dispenser of India's destiny.
Thy name rouses the hearts of Punjab, Sindhu,
Gujarat and Maratha,
Of the Dravida and Odisha and Bengal;
It echoes in the hills of the Vindhyas and Himalayas,
mingles in the music of Yamuna and Ganges and is
chanted by the waves of the Indian Ocean.
They pray for thy blessings and sing thy praise.
The saving of all people waits in thy hand,
Thou dispenser of India's destiny.
Victory, victory, victory to thee.
This is Jan Gana Mana - The Indian National Anthem as composed by Rabindranath Tagore and as translated in English by Tagore along with the Irish poet James H. Cousins' wife, Margaret who was an expert at English language.
It is addressed to the Bharat Bhagya Vidhata (India's Destiny Dispenser God) contrary to the popular belief that it is addressed to a person particular.
It is known that the Sanskritized Bengali version of the same, called Jana Gana Mana has been hugely popular worldwide. Listen to it on YouTube now and feel something in your heart for India.
© Rabindranath Tagore 27th December, 1911 originally in Bengali
© Rabindranath Tagore, Margaret H. Cousins who together translated it in 1919 at Besant Theosophical College, Madanapalle where Margaret's husband James H. Cousins was the principal who invited Rabindranath Tagore to sing the anthem in front of an assembly of people.
Àŧùl Dec 2019
OXOXOXO
Dear life, you know what's your ultimate truth,
End you do one fine day - often in pain.
A real fountain I wish there existed of youth,
Treat my senescence it would and I shall be young again,
Happiness and togetherness are all I seek to gain.
My HP Poem #1819
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jun 2017
I had met her only once.

Kissed I had her dry lips twice,
Night I slept and she kissed me,
Oh she woke me up to join in,
What I did was to drink her lips.

When I missed a chance to romance,
Have I such a memory? No,
Always cared for her throughout,
Truly I have loved her since eternity.

Yet she forgot about the care,
Oh, she ignored it conveniently,
Under an effect of worldly desires.

Did someone else prevent her,
I suspect her father made her,
Destiny is a roadblock in here.

The story ends with a breakup,
Hanging in obiter is happiness,
And each expectation shatters,
Tantalising hints of eternal love.

Another time I have failed,
Upon life she was a scourge,
The story is being renewed,
Ukulele orchestra plays within,
Morose tunes it plays lavishly,
Night fell long ago but it never ends.
My HP Poem #1582
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Dec 2015
You know me,
I can't love again,
This loneliness stays.
My HP Poem #928
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Apr 2017
It's ages since the Internet was created,
Much information is available online,
You can learn how to cook good food,
Also how to create a new explosion,
Spread the message of love to everyone,
Or scare them with dire consequences,
It's upto you how to use the Internet.
My HP Poem #1484
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Nov 2019
Islamic State's Big Daddy
Is dead.
He blew himself up like a coward,
When a K9 agent crept up to him.

Not really like a real daddy
He died.
The coward also blasted his own kids,
Worse than Osama, time killed him.
My HP Poem #1791
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Aug 2017
Twins, they are your kids,
Identical they are delightful,
Tie them together you do,
S**ensual feeling for both you & me.
My HP Poem #1654
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Feb 2013
This note is meant to be read complete at one sitting with complete attention and then only you're expected to react to it.*

One of my female friends claims:
"God won't let anything bad happen to me, I have never intended wrong to happen for anyone..."

Many people find the statement pretty obvious. But I have an entirely different perspective...

Read on, be intrigued.

My counter-statement to the above claim questions the very basis of theism:

"I wonder then how I got on your God's wrongbooks... I have always been a helpful person serving those in need and even serving the lower-strata - I even taught underprivileged kids dedicatedly during my tenure in second year at the previous college.. I remained a no-fuss son to my parents who were always very caring and loving. So my question is, why then your God - if any such entity exists - gave me the worst possible time, why I was cut off from the world by a grave accident that put me into a 22-day long coma, why did I lose all my friends, why I was made to abandon my previous ways of life - including playing guitar as fine as I used to & moving as freely as you do, why I suffered and  why - simply why?"*

Nobody can answer these why's and I don't seek their answers because this is a statement which questions the viabiliity of theism - the belief in any imaginary entity that controls the universe. Bhagwaan or God or whatever you may call the dormant power probably just created the universe & let chemical reactions follow the physics laws and went to a permanent sleep itself.

Life was just created by mere chemical and physical interactions, why do we then need to waste incessant money at different 'so-called' religious institutions instead of doing social service ourselves?

Don't we find any poverty or negativity in the outside world itself?

Why do we not stop the incessant flow of money into places of worship and go serve the poor ourselves instead or are we so busy, rather so lazy?

When God or Bhagwan is not going to be pleased by any such hypocrisy then 'why' are we fooling ourselves by remaining religious in the flashy-fashioned-faking ways?

Why - just a small why?

I'm sure that if God or Bhagwan could listen to our prayers even in its dormant state - it's by the following ways:
1. Serve the poor by your own hands instead of giving mere donations or maundy money, or simply doing more & more of charity to wash your sins
2. Help others - be it a friend, a normally needy person, an aged person, or a physically handicapped person - help them more frequently with a kind heart and pure intentions, free from the awareness that you are helping them such that you don't have to count it among your good deeds
3. Raise your voice against wrong - it could happen to you or a loved one too

There are some other fairly similar ways by which you can attain pure liberation from the worldly woes in this world - in this life only.
P.S.: I'm neither a theist, nor an atheist person
© Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Sep 2024
For you, I am an artist,
My art is music,
My art is love.

For you, I am a soldier,
My duty is guarding,
My duty is protecting.

You lost someone special,
I'm an addition new,
Do not worry, dear,
I'm here to stay here.
My HP Poem #1989
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jun 2020
For you, I am an artist,
My art is music,
My art is love.

For you, I am a soldier,
My duty is guarding,
My duty is protecting.

You lost someone special,
I'm an addition new,
Do not worry, dear,
I'm here to stay here.
My HP Poem #1852
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Dec 2023
For you, I am an artist.
My art is music.
My art is love.

For you, I am a soldier.
My duty is guarding.
My duty is to protect.

You lost someone special.
I'm a new addition.
Do not worry, dear.
I'm here to stay now.
My HP Poem #1852
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Feb 2017
Coming to the reunion party,
You look drop dead gorgeous,
Shoulderless you gyrate now,
Your gown looks so golden,
Every man is with their wife,
Still, no one looks at his own,
And everyone wants to feel you.

I observe them adjusting pants,
Stealing looks at you frequently,
Few have their mouths open,
For the past fifteen minutes,
I grow slightly insecure,
For you are so beautiful,
My lovely gorgeous wife.

Now the alpha male comes,
I was not ready for him,
He asks your hand for dance,
You agree after looking at me,
Then I see you dancing with him,
He pulls you close to himself,
You soon excuse yourself.
Such short love story parts
My HP Poem #1443
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Nov 2012
Okay guys, this is going to be a romantic poem as I was in a fresh mood after I woke up. I dreamed about my ideal girl and in this poem I'm going to describe her.

The Kohl In Her Eyes
The Bangles In Her Wrists
The Anklets In Her Legs
Are All Golden

The Sweetness Of Her Choice
The Mellowness Of Her Voice
The Callowness Of Her Rejoice
Are All Elven

The Divinity In Her Face
The Uniformity In Her Grace
The Words In Her Praise
Are All Woven
My HP Poem #9
© Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Nov 2016
She had kissed me as I slept near her father,
More than now I have not felt any farther.
She pursues her dreams self-focussed,
And she has moved on in that life of hers,
My best wish is that only her I wished.
She so dedicatedly chases all her dreams,
Mine she was the only dream I ever pursued.

That kiss was more gratituos than sensuous,
She had woken me up for an active kiss.
Those wee hours I cannot forget ever,
Because just like a surreal dream it was,
She became a one night angel for me.
Those moments one could never forget,
She is the new generation – maybe she can.
I refuse to become next generation when it comes to love.
If I am supposed to be alone all my life, then so be it.
I am not going to move on when I was not at fault until I am granted justice.

HP Poem #1239
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jan 2015
Whenever I enter any Indian Wedding,
The clarinet would be lamenting in rejoice,
Playing it would be very frequently happy tunes,
The irony became so profound when I'd move further,
Clarinet already lamented that the groom would lose himself.
My HP Poem #752
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jun 2013
Take me to your land of love,
Guide me by your voice of love,
Hold me by your hand of love,
Cover me by your choice of love.

I will then climb mountains of love,
I will scale the higher peaks of love,
I will show us the fountains of love,
I will be nurturing the plant of love.

Out will come our cheesy fleeces of love,
So will be our savoury expedition of love,
We will be drinking all the juices of love,
*To achieve a heart-felt ambition of love.
☆★☆♡♥♡☆★☆
My HP Poem #300
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Nov 2015
No,
It is not really perfect,
Nothing like what you might have guessed.

But,
It is the only place I am happy,
With her hands holding my face, I feel blessed.

Yes,
It is somewhere on an isle in the middle of nowhere,
A place where I always feel completely satisfied and truly loved.

Ahh,
I hold her face with one hand,
And I be kissing her as I undo the laces behind.

Oh,
It is so very beautiful,
The love we share is beyond being physical.
My HP Poem #918
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Dec 2016
Beautiful
And
Romantic
Red
Everything
N**ovel­.
A 2° acrostic.
HP Poem #1311
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Dec 2016
May my last poem never time itself on my birthday,
As the day I write my last poem will be my last day,
And I wish not die on the day which is my birthday.
HP Poem #1316
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Oct 2013
If I must die someday,
And all activities must cease,
I will still be saying that one last poem,
That'll be the last one by me,
You will get it for you.
One more poem the last one,
I shall never compose anymore poetry,
It's not that others can't love,
But none could better.
So as long as I am with you,
I am for you to love so just rest assured.
The first person in this particular poem is me.
The second person is my beloved friend.
Just tell me what do you think about it.

My HP Poem #460
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jul 2017
Sometimes I feel jealous of all others,
They have their siblings and lovers,
But even I have my dear parents.
My HP Poem #1612
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Mar 2013
Had you been here with me,
I would've seen a new day - everyday.
But you are not here with me,
I must see the same old sun - everyday..
One day you surely will be mine,
I'll then see a new sun rising - everyday...

The day you would be mine,
I would see a golden morning - everyday...
The day you'll fill my life,
I see a complete life with you - everyday..
The day you are mine,
I feel like the richest man - everyday.

The thought that one day I'll surely be united with you,
Makes me happier - content - satisfied and much more.
But till then, I sail alone in *The Lonely-Lonely Ferry...
You know that the 'you' here is you!
My HP Poem #145
© Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Aug 2017
Neither just because I have the most ideal parents
Nor because I have a promising career on the crossroads.
Neither just because I have few good friends
Nor because I have a rapport with the Death.
But also because I am with You, my love,
I am *the luckiest man alive!
My HP Poem #1652
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jun 2015
Whether on the personal front,
Or on the career's front,
Or on the relationship's front,
There are several ingredients,
For success and happiness,
But the main is trust, strong trust.

Trust yourself and succeed in career,
Trust your partner and succeed in relation.
My HP Poem #873
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jun 2013
Please Be Silent These Two Minutes For I Now
Know That Most Crucial ***** Of My Body
Organs Has Given After The Long Sustaining
Malady To Which There Exists No Remedy...

My Heart Has Fallen Prey To The Endemic
So To Treat This Love Malady I Need Help
Dreadful Self-Destruct Mode's Taken Over
And I Will Need You To Relieve My Pain..


*Probably I Know That Kreepy Causative
Agent Which Could Have Harmed Me So
Much Even As I Tried To Resist Its Sweet
And Virulent Love Manipulates In Heart.
Madams and Sirs, please spare your sincere grades for this poem.
And please do care to dedicate some respectful words to the departed as a gesture of civility.
There's no coming back from the world of true love.
♡♥♡♥♡
My HP Poem #279
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jan 2016
When you feel you're alone,
Cut off from this cruel world,
Your instinct's telling you to run.

Listen to your heart,
Those angel voices,
They'll sing to you,
They'll be your guide
Back home.

When life leaves us blind,
Love keeps us kind,
It keeps us kind.

When you've suffered enough,
And your spirit is breaking,
You're growing desperate from the fight.

Remember you're loved,
And you always will be,
This melody will bring you right
Back home.

When life leaves us blind,
Love keeps us kind.
When life leaves us blind,
Love keeps us kind.

Ohhhhh Ohhhhhh!
Ohhhhh Ohhhhhh!
Ohhhhh Ohhhhhh!
My favourite song in this grim mood.
©Linkin Park
Àŧùl Jun 2013
I
So Often
Lie Awake Too
Regretfully In My
Fat Bed Cooled By The
Cooling Comforts Of Our
Air Conditioner And Bed
With A Much Cozy Sheet
Spread Around My
Toned Strong
Limbs
As I Often Think
About Things So Varied
Mostly I Miss The Labourer
Children Whom I Did Use To
Teach For Almost Nine Months
During My Stay At The Old One.

For This New College Did Never
Feel Like Home Ever And There
Were Just So Many Selfish Folks
That I Even Lost The Count Of It.

Not Even Once Do They Smile
Not Even Once Do They Try
Not Even Do They Care
About Their Attitude
Or The Multitude
Of Their Rudeness
So Is Their Crudeness.
My HP Poem #289
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jun 2013
I crossed another milestone,
I grossed 50k reads as a poet.

I was alone in the outside world,
I ain't alone in the poetry world.

I have no friends in reality,
I have several friends here.

I read & like lovely poems daily,
I write just for she-yes-her daily.

I had met her on Facebook,
I read in love on this nook.

I don't know the exact date but,
I will be happy 7 years later...
☆★☆★☆
♡♥♡♥♡
My HP Poem #316
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Apr 2015
I crossed another milestone,
I grossed 340k reads as a poet.

I was alone in the outside world,
I ain't alone in the poetry world.

I have no friends in reality,
I have several friends here.

I read & like lovely poems daily,
I write just for she-yes-her daily.

I had met her on Facebook,
I read in love on this nook.

I don't know the exact date but,
All the things will be fine and,
We will marry 6 years later.
And you all are invited in advance.
☆★☆★☆
♡♥♡♥♡
An old poem modified just a bit.
My HP Poem #831
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Dec 2012
Every Morning I Reach The Basin,
For Washing My Face & To Brush,
The Mirror Beyond The Tap Scares Me,
The Mirror Scares Me.

I See An Old Man Gazing At Me,
With Marks Of A Troubled Life,
The Reflection Meeting My Eye Scares Me,
The Mirror Scares Me..

I Don't Fret, No I Don't Fear Him,
For I Know He's Me Only Just Too Tired,
The Reflection Does No Good - Scares Me,
The Mirror Scares Me...
© Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Nov 2019
The Monster Inside Me
It engorges, it devours
My sadness it makes me forget

The Monster Inside Me
It toasts, it drinks
My tears it makes me forget

Not all monsters are bad
Some are simply benign
Nurture good monsters I do
My HP Poem #1799
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jul 2013
Ea'ly in the mo'nin',
Goin' through the sheets...

I so often read this,
That some lady was *****..

Wonderin' then why - why is this happenin',
I throw 'way the sheets.

I often ask my dad,
"What's wrong with the hormones here.."

He then smiles before he simply replies,
"It's corruption in genes & none can help it..."
Those who have a heart,
And control over hormones,
If they know how to read Hindi or Punjabi language,
Should go through Punjab Kesari,
It's riddled with **** news,
**** with the young,
**** with the friends,
**** with the old,
**** with the enemies,
**** with the neighbours,
**** with the guests,
**** with the relatives,
**** with the unknown,
And even,
**** with the kids;
In the homes,
At the schools,
In the farms,
At the workplaces,
In the fields,
At the terrace,
In the bush;
By the school-bus staff,
Or the peons,
By the relatives,
Or the neighbours,
By the spouse's friends,
Or by the house-help.

Even that the rapists are at times supported by some so-called ladies who seek revenge or some personal interest.

Everyone or anyone is ever-ready to ****!

I am not proud to be born in such a nation where such cheap "men/women" exist who **** to prove their supremacy over the fair gender for silencing their ****** urge or for any personal motives.

But even in our epics rapes are documented so gloriously that I feel that instances like 'Draupadi Cheerharan' (de-strapping Draupadi's sari) from the "Mahabharata" epic have inspired rapists & eve-teasers along the course of time.

Indian mythology is replete with instances of 'Godly' beings masquerading as their human spouses before having *** with human women. The very base of Indian culture is questionable and the so called masculine brigade that has been contracting religion in India is answerable to all these potential accusations.

Why did the religious scriptures glorify ****?

Why do many of the male community consider women as utensils of ***?

Perhaps only divine intervention from that imaginary guy-in-the-fourth dimension may save this nation.

Till then rapists may have a pompous time.

My HP Poem #347
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Oct 2014
I love you.

Please don't ever feel bad on me telling you to concentrate on your studies.

After having lived a life full of challenging and trying circumstances I now know what's important in life.

While studies and career are two interrelated entities that finally yield worldly pleasure for a person, being worldly happy is also important for a human being to be happy spiritually.

I would again say that I love you.

I see in you my own image, and I don't want you to make the same mistakes as I did.

I was just like you when I was your age; I hope that I don't sound like a real parent while I try to give you directions putting your best foot forward in your professional life. I was just like you and I don't want you to make the same mistakes as I made.

Focus on your career first while it is not too late already.
Sincerely,
Your Full-time Lover

My HP Poem #677
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Nov 2016
The best thing about my ex,
Was not just her youth,
Was not even her soft voice,
It was not at all her cute baby face.

Not anything you can guess,
Was not anything else,
Was not even known to her,
It was her Halloween-ready face.

Her face is so scary as it is,
Was my misconception,
Was simply scarier even,
She needs no makeup at all!
HP Poem #1231
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Oct 2016
And I will never know for real,
If she was a cheater surreal.
She had jinxed various boys,
Even I was one of her toys.

Crying over spilt milk is foolish,
I should take her as a lesson.
Hating does not make any sense,
She never mended her ways.

She cheated me or she cheated me not,
It was always a perplexing mystery.
Am I lucky or unlucky – this I know not
And surely The Mystery Continues.
Probably I am lucky because if she had cheated on me after marriage, I would have rather killed myself for her sin.

HP Poem #1198
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Oct 2013
Once again I looked at my sides,
When I decided my password needed a change,
It was rotting - really.

This gaming website required a unique password,
It required at least 10 characters,
My sides were clear and none was peeping.

It required 3 special characters as well,
2 capital letters were also required for it,
I thought for a while & decided as follows:

Superman + Spiderman + Batman + New Delhi + New York = *3SSB2ND&NY;
Not entirely my creation, but I took inspiration from a joke on the same theme.

My HP Poem #449
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Sep 2019
Its oil lit up by tiny sparks,
The night lamp in the corner glows.

Its light fills up this room,
The love flower is waiting to bloom.

The noise is from the loom,
Its expression will mute the gloom.
My HP Poem #1774
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Apr 2021
I was enjoying the bright moonlight,
Rambling about the starboard,
Rambling about the starboard,
I let my memory go stray backwards.

My ship glided through the calm sea,
Cleaved through brief obfuscate,
Cleaved through brief obfuscate,
My ship exited into the starry waters.

And you will never believe what I saw,
I saw my spirit lifted from me,
I saw my spirit lifted from me,
My body falling dead on starboard.

Out of the body, my spirit wandered,
It wandered furthermore,
It wandered furthermore,
I hope they would cremate my body.

I want to reach your Kàìláshà
Rescue me, my Shiva,
Rescue me, my Shiva,
They reach you through the land.

I shall reach your realm gliding,
Receive me, my Shiva,
Receive me, my Shiva,
Zapping through the night sky.

Your Yamaraj reaches closer,
May they stay happy, my family,
May they stay happy, my family,
Let them move on peacefully.
My HP Poem #1921
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl May 2024
I met a friendly woman at the college,
She sat in the entrance gallery west of the labs.
I said, "Hello, may I know your identity," with a smile,
And her lips spread to a mile.
She said, "Hello, I'm here on my job,"
Little did I know that blowing was her job.

Anyway, I started telling her about myself,
And as a loner with an infrequent *****,
I respect and I know myself a lot.

When she sat in rapt attention for me,
Listening to my breath between the words,
And my gaze often slid down her face.

There they sat elegantly and imposingly,
Two cute babies, a picture of them, actually,
In a picture printed on the ***** of her shirt,
And I asked about them curiously.

She said, "They are my nephew and niece,"
"Both are twins and each weighs 7 kilograms,"
And looked for validation, "Aren't they both so nice?"

I nodded in agreement saying, "Definitely,"
And I continued, "I want to play with them both."

She said, "I know that you fell in love with them,"
Now she continued with another broad smile,
"You are welcome to play with both of them,"

I asked, "Are they with you?"
She laughed shortly and said,
"They always remain with me."

Puzzled, I said, "What?"
My jaw remained hung open in astonishment.

She put her finger under my chin,
Then shut my mouth to say,
"Don't act like an innocent kid,"
And she continued,
"I like you, and I want you,
Come in the morning,
We'll have a lot of fun,
And I'll blow my favourite toy,
Before both of us go for a movie."
My HP Poem #1967
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jul 2017
Smart was my first girlfriend,
Open minded she was a friend.

She was my 3rd crush,
Often she would blush,
Forget I'd all the rush,
The ***** of hers was so plush.

Why I remember our third kiss,
Ended it so sweetly in a bliss,
Royal caramel chocolate I miss,
Enthralling was her soft hiss.

Her memories I remember sharply,
Exceptional was my every reply,
Really my kisses were never haply.

Lies never ever appeared among us two,
In fact she wanted me to be her Mewtwo,
Penance she was my life number two,
S*he wanted to kiss me but atwo*.
I can't help how I always rhyme my poems.

My HP Poem #1641
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jan 2015
The ones they crave for,
They the lamps of your eyes,
Writing I am such words.

It could not be treated,
Pain - sweet pain in my heart,
It could not be ceased,
Magic - wonderful magic in your eyes,
Today I bring such a gift for you,
Yes, I write such words.

Keep them in your heart,
From eyes they may not slip,
My poems are so delicate,
Lest they not get ignored by you,
I will keep writing these poems,
Yes, I write such words.

Until they not touch your soul,
My poems will just wander,
They will just remain flowers,
Longing for butterflies you give to me,
Will keep singing them for you,
Yes, I write such words.

The ones they crave for,
They the lamps of your eyes,
Writing I am such words.
My HP Poem #733
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Oct 2016
A costly privilege at rare times
Inquired my dad, "How much the onions?"
The seller, with a gasp,
Replied: "It's for 55 Rupees a kilo,
And you're holding almost two times."
A humorous poem. A limerick.
HP Poem #1209
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jun 2013
****** - Nay!
******* - Nay!
Fentanyl - Nay!!!

I'm addicted to a different one.

***** - Nay!
Smack - Nay!!
Tobacco - Nay!!!

I'm addicted to a unique one.

Mescaline - Nay!
Marijuana - Nay!!
Ketamine - Klose!!!

I'm addicted to Poetry ever since I was borm.
My HP Poem #333
©Atul Kaushal
Next page