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A good place to start would be an introspective analysis of self, but what of the ramifications of objectified's manifest? If evil is incarnate then what is the nature of corporeally preternatural? Can we save each other from the truisms of self we all embody, or do we all wallow in the pandemic phatic of our own fatidic as we seek augur's tout. My imagination tells me I can create a personification that has mystical properties but can this be functional garb or is it basically illusion. Can we touch each other, or even ourselves with these extrapolations? So many of us live by this platonic proxy photic aimed humanitarian instinct, maybe the reason we don't seem to succeed is because we need to be bad to be good. Further some of us are so bad that we obviously don't deserve to live but are those of us so inclined doomed to die of the ramifications thereof? And will this malady be a contagious virulence for all? Were it not for the astonishingly astounding and incredible nature of life itself I would almost be forced to abjure the nature of metaphysics on a corporeal level. Fortunately for me the answer is much more simple, I need someone to make love to, or **** if you will. I believe in retrospect this is obviously clear! Forgive my blither.
Across the sky is a blaze of scintillating gold
When the dawn quietly begins to unfold
Each morn is a fresh wonder
As the night willfully bows down to surrender

Every minute is a novel creation
With scenes and sights of great sensation
With every passing hour, new vistas unfold
Bringing insights varied and visions manifold

The blades of grass glow in sparkling dew
As the sun makes his customary march anew
Over the expanse of the brightening sky
Feathered folks to different directions fly

Here and there is many a plant in bloom
That dispels all clouds of graying gloom
Bees hum round opening flowers
Squirrels come out from their hidden covers

The gust of breeze that blows over
Brings scents so sweet in the morning air
The mountains that tower so high
In grandeur seem to touch the sky

The cuckoo and the magpie sing in joy
Their nestlings have nothing to annoy
The cascading falls sound the stringed trumpet
Running down from the mount’s heady summit

As Nature thus pipes a thousand songs
In capturing sounds and melodious tunes
In my heart is born a heavenly melody
      That I shall pour out in euphonious rhapsody
Inspired by a beautiful morning ! Please read it and feel it !
Only four of us today
We can have some tea and don't have to pay

Poems are ready to display
Who will start to read today

Poems on love, poems on war
Poems on strangers at the door

Minds are working oh so fast
From the first poem to the last

We put them up on a screen
Where all our poems can be seen
Close your eyes
Open again
What use pretending friends
While the smoke of sweet enemy flowing in our veins?
Come across my heart
Drive a knife.
You will find the smell of a hypocritical blood
In the sip of a coffee from an imported cup.
For heaven’s sake
Let not compel a ‘bad trust’ to be a thread
Between us
Close your eyes again
Just to know
We are strangers to one another
The yellow leafs of the stormy sky
No storm, no rain
When we close the eyes
In the forest of humans
All is dark and invisible.

Copyright@ Dr Sudhansu Dash
Awarded Poem
(By Poetry First publishing International , as top 100 poems of the World-2015)


With the feathering breast of silvery wings
I float in the sky
Dancing in tune with the wind
Merging all my desires with it.
I find myself entirely there
When I myself is no more.
None can frustrate me as I have no aim
None can defeat me as I have no desire to win
I simply float with a desire less effort to go nowhere
Because I am not there to find myself.
My appearance is nothing
But the illusion of my disappearance
It is the only strength of my Being
I know the art of melting into nothingness
Under the cruel passion of loosing myself.
The whole liberty is in my palm
My warm womb, full of emptiness
Carries the whole universe
Breathing silently in deep slumber.
My pity flow in all dimensions to the stumbling man
Groping in the darkness of his self created hell
My compassion turns futile before it reaches the dark valley .
I have no language to communicate
Simply to commune with my words of light.
But hopeless I am
The moment my words reach you
You change the meaning with your tricky words
You may understand me or understand not
But you cannot misunderstand me  
As you cannot distort my silence
But is my helpless ness
To be with you in the closest distance
I see everything suspended moment to moment.

Copyright@ Dr Sudhansu Dash
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