There appears expressions
On your face
Which actually are alien to you,
Which weren't meant to be bloomed any now or then.
Let the tales Bloom
We never respect those people who don't value their own words , Si?
Ain't that so?
Those people lack soul.
So this one for every soulfull mates.
Kisses and hugs , let the shoulders share the heat forever.
For Ever Mates
In a pornographic poem
ee cummings wrote
may i feel ,
Fell the nicest of the rhymes into
Brooks of sholas
Untidy caveman and lady in water
Heard the words in the streams
Though evaporated few from the stream
There stood ee Cummings on the banks
With the inks for liquid state
Somewhere he again stood
With the inks for gaseos state
Aftermath of reading the verses of sanity. And the Cycle continues liquid gas liquid gas liquid. Poem verses are heard by many , are being heard live and many to be heard. Embrace the moments Past, Present and Future . Prosper
Erased from ancestral DNAs
Now they had forgotten violence
Above lines reffers to the tigers of nest in bhutan. Erasing Innate Traits are legitimately seen there. Are they true creatures now or did they shedded down their truest trait . May be someday in ancestry they got the soul tormented to behave carnivore perhaps they never possessed those sharp canines in their fossils. For them atleast Hein hunger was the reason , so now tilt the mirror on us.....
Beaten up by
If you were given an opportunity to live back your previous day Will you live it much warmer and happier? How that would be dealing the Same stressful insane moments in a light way.
Brook met brook.
Do you feel freedom mate.
Yeah much brighter freedom said the brook from halal chop-house.
Non-understandable to those who race for freedom. This verse can written in N different ways.
There are pleasant waters.
There are unpleasant waters.
The way you drink can interchange the feel of consumption.
Wild Enchanting Twigs
Are dancing to Bursts of Bubbles.
Midst A Crucified Upper Half
Hanging Upside Down.
Imperishably dripping mono-wound.
Blooms and Sieves
In nick of time.
Roots are *******
Splash Of Violet Bloods,
Twigs emerge exponentially.
Ground gets replenished
With vociferous violet.
Bed of Falling Flowers
Drowns to Depth of Violet,
Fallen persists still
And bubbles are being emitted.
Bursts of fragrance.
Above the meadows
Air is Pungent,
To be continued .
"Turquoise green tertiary spirited Eskimo"
Tik Tok dolls
For the sake of betterness or quickness,
The life is all about developing own customized extensions or plugins .
Better sitted pees
Better stand-up pees
Better blue ticks
And It rhymed , thereby set for n number possibilities.
And realising there will be no plugin for Better love than one which happened 42 years ago & ultimately the most **** thing is not between legs but between the ears.
Confession line: Omitted better hi and better ciao for the best results.
Depicting the long woven
knitted fabric stained the kind.
One be with ease.
Other tries hard to ratheripe ,
but poignantly fails.
Ain't those stains still good enough?
Nope right? No more blame games , so effectively cascading the right direction.
Iham param Sarvam bhadram
തിരുവസ്ത്രം എന്നു ചൊല്ലി തന്നതിനെ വലിച്ചെറിയുന്നു... Going ****
It's Not Your
Lips I Taste
When We Kiss.
It's Not Your
Salved To My Soils.
Its Your Subliminal Essence
By My Core Being Drenched.
Rooh aatma spirit
From across the three oceans
and two mighty lands
She brought the saplings.
Noorjehaan is dead.
Chenar trees in kashmir
Announces her love for ages.
Expression of love like wind
It was there.
It is not present.
Air looted the fields of epitome tranquility.
Its so so long
There is no news aligned.
No-one cleared theirs throat,
Neither do i.
Only the memory persists.
Independence is a false motto
Vision Through It
Fraternity kept the secret power of the shades away from me.
He appears everyday with his sack full of brightest stars to seed 'em on someone's sky.
Our nullness &
They only sense
Meant for you.
I am you . You are me.
There are lot more organs that which remains undiscovered. Swaccham asthu .
Above the garden
Clouds are forming
Nexts are rain
Then evaporate the odours.
hidden messages on clouds , let them propagate
Hike up the hill
There a piece of plane land
Rotate the view
Not you not me anymore!
Nothing else other than jungle does exist.
Ain't that a sin
to make the body with soul Suffer
in the name of cure treatment.
Are they still believing its love
ain't that the only sin ever laid
to meridian hearts.
Shadow of butterfly wings falls off in seven colours.
Being sane with abundant insanity
Poet daubed the corporal on the wings of carney
Wanderer dilettante soul lusted wild routes
Counted each the millimiles covered
Upside , unstrained , Unflaggingly.
Yon the valleys , epitome meadows and Hillsides
Beated around the alcoves amok
Ridges passed the marooned trails
Agape the flinged self flew spirited madrigals
Slowly rooted the tints into wilderness
True entity got superimposed to sylvan instincts
The obsolute shadow rigged the shooner
By dimension lengthier the time but shorter by grace
Grazed through and some toxic airs exhaled then pulled
Blinked all the roof to rugs
Remembrance of concrete boxes and intimate sidekicks
Cheap conflict wins to hit the ring
If body wins, wanderlust looses thereby path ends
Simultaneous call by consciousness and objection by eternal shadow
Only the body grazed the maps with pointers
Though insatiably leveed
Kept retention the coursing shadow
Yet remained damp , savaged the sylvan traits
Life was near but the abstainer failed
Wilderness abysm rejected the unfortunate physique
Scorched canopies along wilted flora
Container flogged the shadow to a stultifying death
Physique deceived self the core truth
Existence thereafter without knowing the chance with eterna
Several followed the imperishable conflict trail
Roll of honour diminished by fourth dimension
Marked victories of featherbrains over pappus chambers
Only few sticked upto xanthic flowers
Raise up , were the victories thristled down?
Many knocked and still keep on knocking incarnations
Fine array of fossilized saturnine inhibitions
Callous attritions over altruism of succinct shadow
Flip sorties pariance spurts
"The stanchion to revet my sky" voiced the shadow
When it fails to differentiate a forest and oneself.
— The End —