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 Nov 2012 Sunshine Girl
Àŧùl
In That Moonlit Night Standing In The Abaft,
Watching The Towed Flaccid Wooden Raft,
I Thought That I Saw An Angel Resting,
Lying Exhausted There In That Craft.

I Call The Girl Out Unbeknownst Of Her Kind Name,
"Hey Young Lady!!" To Which She Didn't Much Respond,
She Looked Up Towards Me Once In Anguish & Collapsed,
I See Desperation In Her Amber Eyes & Resolve To Help Her.

The Crewmen Had Now Been Doing The Paddles After Resting,
I Summon My Captain & Ask, "Do You See That Girl In The Raft?"
The Captain Now Smiles To Say, "Commodore, Better Get Married,"
I Look Just Clueless To Which He Simply Replies, "There Is No Girl."

True He Was As She Had Simply Disappeared,
I Started Thinking Of My Sleep Needs That Day,
I Looked Around Again In A Hope To Find The Girl,
I Had Compromised My Routine As The Commodore.

Then I Immediately Realized It Was My Wild Phantasm,
Now This Was Just A Plain Illusion Of A Tired Sailor's Mind,
No Mermaids Could Have Ever Existed In Reality & Were Fake,
I Turned Towards The Deck To Go Back To My Bunk For Sleeping.

As I Climbed Down The Stairs To Enter My Room Amazed & Dazed,
I Saw Her Standing And Waiting For Me By The Side Of My Bunk,
I Accepted That Delusion Of My Mind & Started To Lie Down,
She Said, "I'm As Real As Your Thoughts, Don't Fear Me."

She & I-Me & Her, Had The Best Time That Night,
In The Morning She Was Gone & Was Just Gone,
Disappeared Into Thin Air While I Was Asleep,
Each Day I So Dearly Long For Her To Return.
November 28, 2012 poem.

7 Stanzas Of A Beautiful Open-Eyed Dream Written In A Lonely Evening Reflecting Upon What I Lost Due To The May 7, 2010 Accident.

Read the entire Angel Saga by me, Atul Kaushal.
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/13567/the-angel-saga/

My HP Poem #19
©Atul Kaushal

I thank you all so much for the overwhelming response that this poem has received.

If you get interested in reading any of my novels after having read this poem then do visit https://www.amazon.in/Atul-Kaushal/e/B00NIQ5MTC/ for buying any of my stories.
i am undiagnosable.
my injury is not see-able. but my wound is not closed
as i am only myself, when i am alone.

i have found understanding life is
simple. it is the ability to accept
non-understanding.
simplicity:
thou art a cruel *****

indeed, to understand
is heroic
or crazy. i may call you a liar even

[i am a liar. in many ways]
but to my mind. i destroy
me, where it counts.
i do not
understand myself. and
that is the worst of all.
when you crack an egg
you could be baking
-maybe a cake, or cookies
blueberry muffins.

have you ever watched the egg when its cracked

first hit on the big glass bowl.
--a little may ooze out, the white of the egg. it gets on your hands
its annoying. but it washes off.
survivable.

the second hit maybe harder this time.
---more comes out, the shell may break off a little. that **** shell is nesting on your beautifully mixed pile of flour, sugar, and vanilla extract.
******. this time, you fish it out with a fork
disturbing what you've created.

the third hit
----the egg shell, crafted so well to protect inside,
is cracked.
everything. comes. out.
like a river the broken yolk, flows and
twists around the bowl.

and by whisking it under the surface of the all purpose flour,
you only make it more turbulent.


and you get your ******* muffins.
 Nov 2012 Sunshine Girl
Tom Orr
She makes the sand,
the sand seep away.
Little locket on her chest,
with her steps a gentle sway.
Though her eyes cast
a tender gaze,
her fiery heart sets the sky ablaze.

Dry rain and dry puddles,
never will she stop.
'Til she stumbles to her knees,
the dusty ground, fiercely hot.
She cries out in pain
and laughs through tears,
a withered smile
of withered years.

She sees me.

Her faces relaxes,
her lungs give out,
her limbs betray her
and with one final strain she says:
*I can't hate.
Let me tell you a little story,
About a girl called me,
Who had a broken heart,
That nobody could see,
But she felt it,
So she smiled through it,
Because she didn't want other people to feel it to,
Sometimes a frown is just as contagious as a smile,
Or that was what she thought,
So everyday she fell apart a little more,
All alone,
With people all around,
And nobody saw the pain that shown through her eyes,
Even though it came across so clear,
At the start of every smile,
Her eyes began to water,
And no one had a clue,
How lost she truly was,
Or how bad she really felt,
How every night she laid awake,
Thinking to herself about the past that haunted her,
And no one ever woke her up.
She is everyone, he is everywhere 
Talking fast and walking strange without a care 

Pick and choose the words you bruise 

They're apples falling from a tree
Once bitten, you ingest reality 

And skin becomes the center of the battlefield 
A place that you have entered but forgot your shield  

Feel the fleets pass over every inch of you

When men saw hiding spots inside themselves 
They became protectors of unruly cells 

Reflecting that which summons such passivity 
And welcomes what's elusive all too easily 

Because remember, there is no mask on a mime
 Nov 2012 Sunshine Girl
Àŧùl
Oh Pearl-Toothed Girl!
This Poem I Write For You,
I Hope You Recognize The Angle.

Oh Pearl-Toothed Girl!
Your Smile Revealed Them,
I Hope To Witness Them For Real.

Oh Pearl-Toothed Girl!
Those Were Diamonds I Saw,
I Hope That I Own Them All In A Deal.

Oh Pearl-Toothed Girl!
Shiny Teeth In A Still I Observed,
I Hope To Be So Lucky To Meet An Archangel.

Oh Pearl-Toothed Girl!
Buying That Smile Is Not My Wish,
I Hope You Trade Your Smile For My Words & My Heart.
Dedicated to a young woman mad about *Teeth*!
My HP Poem #17
© Atul Kaushal
 Nov 2012 Sunshine Girl
Brycical
they shout.
A collection of my closest friends
and confidants
implore, plead & demand
my index finger move
only inches to squeeze
the trigger of the pistol.

Pull the trigger!

My arms are quivering--
the chain smoking hasn't helped
steady the nerves.
I'm having trouble looking
at my victim.

Pull the trigger!

He's my best friend
but also destroyed whatever life I had
as he continues spiraling out of control.
I can't focus at work,
I'm afraid to go back to my own apartment--
letting him crash for a while was a bad idea.
My nerves are shot,
I'm emotionally drained...
I'd do anything to make it stop.

Pull the trigger!

They keep shouting in unison--
all  people I trust implicitly.
They've never steered me wrong before,
they sympathize,
can't stand to see him erode away
what's left of my life.

Pull the trigger!

They're right.
There's nothing I can do--
what choice is left?
My head vibrates
from their chanting
my eyes are watering a little--
thought I'd be sobbing.
A deep exhale...
quickly raising the gun
to his head--

Pull the trigger!

He's sobbing,
whimpering like a wounded *****.
When he looks at me,
I can tell he understands
and sympathizes with me.
I whisper,
"If you don't
get the help you need--
I'm going to do what they want."
After I holster the gun
to stunned silence,
I walk away...
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