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Aditya Roy Sep 2017
Johnny’s at his trailer home
Mixing up medicines
Trying to get through his life
Studying on the pavement
Saving enough just to get through high school then again

Look what you did
Kid you jumped into someone’s bed
Had a babe
But couldn’t get ahead
Follow your leaders
Get off the eternal parking meter

Get wet get set
Johnny come let’s bet
Watch the shuffle
He’s using a cold deck
They’ve kept you in check
You’re obviously still not gonna lose the bet

Look at what you’ve done away with kid
You’ve run away with a 100 bid
Shocked looks on their faces
Finally gaining some confidence in yourself
You use that confidence
And build up
To do away with the hard labor
Of giving free ******* on the subway stations

50%, 60%, 70%
You’re ******* ******
Go ahead
Get dressed
Today you’re gonna go to bed
With your wife and your kid

Look ahead kid
The world’s at your feet
You study so there’s nothing you can’t eat
But only thing that’s missing
In your lonely life
Is an intent to give you a blessing and no retreat

Look out kid
See what you did
On your life you’ve had to keep a lid
Taking concern from God and government
And scumbags and still avoiding property dealers
The story of an ordinary guy who tries to make it life through the right, which doesn't pay, and wrong and vacuous. But money isn't everything because sometimes the bail is set too high.
Aditya Roy Nov 2020
When you leave my bed with the pillow astray
I cannot help, but think of the days
We spent together in bed
It is all water under the bridge

And should be forgotten
Cast away like a disposable cup
Except, that cup has your lipstick stains
And the pillows have your smell

The bridge still has your aura
Your memories have not left the places
We once shared near the beautiful bridge
I still see your reflection in the river

As I lean over the balustrade
Some day I will have the courage to take a leap of faith
For now a swim in the Seine, as I fade
Into the night light without spectators to see me wash away
A poem on nostalgia.
Aditya Roy Oct 2018
Remembering
All the times I had fun
Studying the times when I didn't
"A wise man learn more from a foolish question than fool than learn from a wise answer."-Bruce Lee
Aditya Roy May 2020
You can steal
My thoughts
As long as you
Replace them
With yours

In the form of poems
Songs and books
That I can read
Share for leisure
To pass the hours
Do you really want it to be this way
Or do you want it to just stay
The same
Aditya Roy May 2020
It is because you
Are the best father
That I know to speak true
My father told me George Washington was a very honest man. A story in which he cuts down an apple tree and admits to father that he did so. Honestly, it took me a while to stop lying to myself. When I did I could appreciate my family much better and speak true and freely.
Aditya Roy May 2020
It was raining
Outside
Until I looked inside
Finding sunshine
Sometimes I think my parents are the backbone of my decision making. I have made bad moves and they have always supported me. Even when I hurt them, they never treated me like the rest of the world did. Especially my father who taught me to be fit and stand tall, disciplined.
Aditya Roy Aug 2019
Who is buried under the rock
It's a friend of mine, in Barros
Walloping scallops in French Kitchen, cradling reserved Paris
In the free, memories are made often
Of these great following, greetings today
Now tomorrow now comes yeses and sclera
Is a rocking soup, in the full stomach, day after and after

Hue, in the colorful streetlight
Imagine the night of the thunderous clap, when the fly is a ****** hull
And it just hit me, and I kicked the dirt, you're life has to full of sons
If I had music like this ramble on the porch, bleeding by the fire with the letter of tout wheatish complexion
By the dog who waits on the Mitya and Alyosha is your friend in the thought that you will survive the thing that stays after that is what survives in my mind, the Ivan remembers you in his searching elegant looks

Hooking for readable pages that him to a crime of the senescence wailing, waters won't come back again tainted by the hint at the story and talk oh human nature and passion, a bold letter took from your open book, now strewn hanging in the room

Even when I'm in the drunken haze in the clear, swarthy and dressed, lilies wilt in cold art nouveau, talk of colorful tambourines
Dietrich, Lithuania rebarbative is not subjective
Folgen Sie nur auf der Ersten unlike this we search for some facts between the lines of anticipation of something crawl from under
Auf Wiedersehen from the sending  halls that for romance was once, breadth, lengths to go if you're in dearth sickness and you just keep looking to change how you react
Now, you don't even attract me anymore with stories of Lithuania and unspoken in the loveliest languages, how slovenly though
In need for love, drugs can keep this warm, the finding a drunken haze in drugs, ******, are we arriving at the naked frumpy girl or your heaven's in crisis

Hue in the callow streetlamp, your glib about Ibsen, and talk of centuries and blazing etudes that your soul collates, a thrilling merit
When they told her, that she was "yelling."
They asked her to stop making the noise, forgetting that it was music once
They saw the determination in flowery spokes, that follow the sunflower
Parallelogram van in the dim light, strong verses terse hearses
Towers calls and church were we young once, are we full of ourselves
And becoming romantic, philosophizing on knowing you and I
We must have a purpose to do this, applying and ousting ourselves of comforting minnows yarns of jocular joints cracking by the Thomas Munroe book and fireplace, trust the recesses of your mind they aren't distinctly, but, a warm gun
A free drug and Englishman couldn't prevent the brew from brimming
The drudgery of a different time and passion
Time machine, wheels on fire that talks to us and also tells us to sleep, making sure that we keep a mindful eye optioned out of the dinner sleep and talked about that
Well, we are titillating, scintillating, coruscating, shiny friable animated
Frisco bay, curiosity in the shell-shock of the freedom that talks of captivity and caitiffs, call me a coward
We are soldiers in the prisons of our mind, except most of are in the kitchen making the derelict talk, a black cat crosses the street
Talk, and talk, then the electric silence missionaries, a tabled missionary serving food to the few toward the city in pursuit of the curious one.
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
The learned raced through the crowd
Apparently, with no knowledge of their whereabouts
"Eureka", they shouted with naked conviction
Aditya Roy Sep 2020
Let's not lie to each other
For a better way to speak to one another
Let's not hide our heart's malcontent with flowers
And cover their thorns with warm words

If we cannot live our lives happily
May the hope for a better future rest with our pessimistic souls
In the form of friendly embraces and felicitations
Meant for people who were once strangers to our kindness

Let's clear the bleak air
Over our shrouded faces
Lest no one can communicate with us
On this two-way street called love

Which is now a one-way street for me
I don't know about you
But, at least I am here
I know the writings have become rare. But, at least I'm here.
Aditya Roy Jul 2020
In a hurling of sudden expression
My trauma ushered in instantly
Mindless, numbed, hysterical
Stuck on the empty highway
With nothing, but, my hands in pocket
No possessions
Just a sign saying, there's a road ahead
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Light in your eyes
The song in the cerulean sky
The blue reflects in your sighs
The electricity is getting behind
I wish you would leave my shoe in the dust
The dust in your eyes
Remove your ambition
The thought like cyan
The intelligence reflected in color
And smartness in colored opinion
Overwhelmed by arguments and lessons
The prime of your protest is in a banner of the sundry
Marched asunder
The revolution came in the summer
But, the sky was red and flagged for communist propaganda
The red wave has now become a progressive idyllic
The cynics in the skeptic's eyes' look dismissive about the west wind
The ode to freedom is wrought with poetic
This is the secret lives of poets
The objects that make it sufficient for me
Fill my imagination with food for thought
Sometimes, contrivances are part of this logical progression
Are we going forward by doubting ourselves
Or keeping a hush on the activism
Except some people believe that words can make the difference
Between extremist ideology and where does, poetry comes
That's where the explicit matter is nudged in the middle
Of the secret lives of poets
In this sequestered sense, we are simply monikers looking for our own identity
As nameless, and spineless some people are
Writing helps liberate the mortal soul
Without forsaking your fame, you cannot have ideas
Hurt by this double-edged sword
We are the secret life of poets bound by welcoming words
And we found solace in our beautiful minds
That makes you special if you cannot write the special heading
On the road, the poetry page doesn't make interference in your daily lives
Tresses past which we are addressing our opinions, this is some mysterious separation of rhyme
In the secret lives of poets, we have no time
But, the eternal reflection can be quite quarrelsome if you don't seek compelling stories out of the waters that reflect in the iridescence
In this colorful descent, there is a question that lies
Where the yellow submarine is, there lies love for the underwater.
That's the state life in which we are, affected by the pronouns
With which we refer to the secret life of poets and the subject pronouns make sense when you accuse poetic device of being restrictive
That's where the secret lives of poets are engrossed poetic devices
The verbs are derivative of their nouns, and thinking is just an object
Secretly we are obsessed by this object of our wishful thinking
Writing about long stories, I revel in the concept of impressive interlocution
But, enough about me
This is a secret poetic plea
Believe us, probably
Intensity inasmuch
The extent of possible outcomes
I was hopeful about this poem, which was slightly influenced
Aditya Roy Jan 2022
I strode into a bar one night
Stumbled actually into the dim light
At the sight of a lady
With a stellar gown made of dark fabric
With her hair so brown, it could have been fawn
I don't remember the details now
I don't even wear that cambric tunic
The night had slowly faded into a hushed dawn
With the drinks and chaotic murmurs turning to yawn
Like sunshine on flowers through a canopy
Our eyes met instantly
As the bar emptied
We got along well, I thought too myself
Under the stars and constellations, we spoke
Churning stories under the starlight, gaily
Of things which to this day have passed
Five years had passed
The serendipity struck me blind
"I am not capable of love."
"You aren't. But you will be."
She had the raw optimism of a child

I was still playing with my life
Under the serenity of the night sky
I realized a lot
In that short time
I was sure of someone
For once in my life

Then, I looked around the bar
She was still twiddling her thumbs
My heart beat twice as I looked at the shore
I wanted to say something
Looking through the window pane
The boats were docked, rocking on the waves
They were nestled near the pier on the high tide
This conversation was sailing smoothly
I needed a plan!
I had a plan
At least, I thought I had a plan
Yet I was tied to a feeling, there was some stillness
It smelled like beer, but, I could taste the fear
I couldn't ask her out
Or could I?

I decided to walk out of the tavern that night
I admit, I was a little lost and alone
Best choice I had made in a long time, right?
Suddenly, the door flew open
She ran up to me
The air was clear, her face lit up in the dead dark
I said a whole sentence, but, the wild wind hid the stupid remark
She blurted out, "I have never felt so alive."
I wish we meet again
Because I need that raw optimism again
Now I think too much, feeling too little
To write a poem, you need to be so in love with the idea of it that you can draft it a thousand times. Even after those thousand deaths, the essence of it should stay. The idea should be reflected in it's essence, which is only a small part of it. If you are lucky, the idea will come out eventually in a well-structured poem. Capture the intent behind writing it, when you write your poem, and interpret it smartly.
Aditya Roy Aug 2019
Inhibiting the criminal frame
Of mind, I took my summers on the journey asunder
Of the politics and the rhyme, of the greatly doubtful pleasantry
Among the soulless crowd, breaking the taxes too
The tears from the hear and hears, strollin' through windy paths
Tearing across the cultures, and streetlights and staring into the distance, the hitchhiker doesn't ride us on the storm
Aditya Roy Nov 2018
Lying through my teeth
In the end esoterisms
Mean nothing
To me
I speak the truth
I speak of the truth
I speak with honesty
With meaning
In my voice
For a place in a world
Full of lies and deceit
Aditya Roy Jun 2019
Smells like teen agony, and the familiarness stays on scarred
Away from spirits being free
Living in destinies beyond your feet
Walking paths beyond comprehension
That is all might and a symbol of peace
Waiting for my own
Probably, realizing the rest assured
You'll be mine and measures
No more joy here again
Less is more
Let's get on with the training
Further down the pursuit of satisfaction
Aditya Roy Feb 2020
What you start loving
Slowly grows
Into hate as you start living in lows
Much like how we envy those who fly and wish we were winged
God gives us all wings
But sees us as too young
Thus not allowing us to leave the nest too soon
As inamored birds do
Aditya Roy Oct 2018
An exam
Taken
In the subject
life
For a better life
Wise men talk because they have to say something; fools, because they have to say something
Aditya Roy Apr 2020
Do you have a cigarette
A sundae could occupy our time
Our time is precious
It melts like an ice cream
And kills like a smoke
Aditya Roy Apr 2020
You know the funny
Thing about life is that
Schools teach about science
Your parents teach you religion
Green grass teaches play
And leaves teach you about grass
When you move in an aeroplane
They seem small
But, to them you are another plastic bag
That flies by whenever no one is looking
Just like that life finishes
The music stops and the fire dies
All that remains are legacies and grave gestures
I may be a little far off topic
I think I am making a point
But something holds me back
It is the beauty of poetry
Or the medium of stories
Life is a bit of a journey now
Where everyone shares their stories
Along the way and they become your friends
I just don't know how I made enemies
Is it science, no
Religion, definitely
Aditya Roy Sep 2019
I have findings
Of mine
I have lifelines
Of mine
I have a smile
Of yours
It does it, for my life cannot ligature
If I have that life, life can do without it
Creation, and creatures of dungeons
So you like dragons
Do you fly in the night with their fire
Or watch the waters touch upon your lifeless gush
Reflection can blush, knife can stag your back
Aditya Roy Sep 2020
Don't get off it.
Wait for the right turn.
Sorry for the lousy driving metaphor.
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Got shot down in the parking lot
Working out all the details for my car
Walking out of the town for a boy or a girl
The night lady asks me to stop hinging on what doesn't matter
The 9 pm suicidal feelings
Got my blood yearning
Got my blood turning
Maybe, if you took some time to wait for the pill to settle
Utilizing the thin line between plea and argument
I might be in your bed stopping all the razor-sharp drama
Causing all the popping of the joints in the waxen girl
Who walks through the prostitution rings with her earrings
Crying through her mascara makeup with her whole soul
The 9 pm suicidal feelings
Got my blood yearning
Someone saved my life without warning
I told her to keep her degenerate hands off me
In a fit of rage, I stabbed her in her waxen skin
Realizing real death comes by chance and not suicide
Aditya Roy Mar 2020
I am going to bring up a holler
To make a dollar
I'll call up the orchard girl
Ask me to send me two
So, that I can work next Sunday
My girl got me on a rap
She don't let me out
Until I buy her flower for her son's grave
Soon, he shot himself
After, the Sundays became too frequent
After he turned sixteen
All the bar's closed on him
And the world closed in on him
Divorced parents didn't tell him
Don't blame yourself
Divorced from reality
He didn't know who'd help him
If he wanted to be twelve
When school was easy and life was taught
In home science, a girl gave him hyacinths
Foreign feeling and love wasn't the same in the end
He already started cutting his bolted veins
And counting his breaths
The city doesn't provide a living
If you can't struggle for a future
The city doesn't provide a loving
If you can't struggle to pray for sleep
He had paid his dues
Life is yours
And it is tough
So make it count
Till the fight is done
Aditya Roy Jun 2020
An actor
Plays a role
A director
Hangs himself
The stage set
Black and white
White and black
Back to back
A cinematographer
Screams suddenly
His camera, corpse
Movies make the poll
Life leaves easily
As difficult death is
Lifelessness takes a toll
Red, yellow, ruby; leaflets often dry, dusty face down
Posters are no longer possessed
The end
Aditya Roy Nov 2020
Some helpless men do not know the bold seasons
For they do not change in their rescinded hearts
I do know, but I know things for there are real reasons
What or why, nothing leans from the balustrade

I do know what love is, it's half intertwined
Hidden outside, behind endless starlight
Too lonely to let our eyes meet strangers
Sensation, sensation without a prayer

Burning in a portion of empty place
Different from the rest, I find some heart
To join the rest of the dying people
My place is a deafening tomb under the stars

The dreary pathways of a bridge do think
I read them and they caress my lonely soul
I will never have a mind of my own
Because my life is based on words in stone
Aditya Roy Sep 2019
You're the queen of my heart
I don't remember your name
But, I call you the killer queen
When you treason, you become a king crusher
Aditya Roy Feb 2020
The change comes early
It is not in being different
But remaining the same but nobler
As a real person told me once
His words are on my mouth
Who has words for jealous hearts
And dialogue on the art we share
Time came
When the portrait you made
Retouched the man I once had

We once found freedom
Like rogues in the midst of bad blood
Life brought good fortune with some humbug
We needed to reach out to the enemies with a hand
I don't know how my friends are alive
Lady luck needs her four wax candles
Each burning bright under the midnight fateful sky
Keeping her eyes alive and cheeks warmed
Lush like cherries and the rank outsider with burning ego

And my husband
In the open engagement
Knew that's the liberation we speak of
They scream and act on screen
Giving us a chance to express ourselves
I saw your listless smile pass me by
Because I did not turn
I do not hope to look back
In the happiest days
If work got in the way

When I saw her hair set free in an ocean
Likewise, her golden hair fulfilled the sea of dreams
Four seasons for each time I had picked oyster shells for you
We'd explode on redolent talk
Jamais vu
It never happened, I laughed
Saying life is an ephemeral choice
Pour moi
For me
Who could hear his voice echo in the lonesome crowd

I just wanted to wake him up on a warm spring
Beneath the ground the earth shook
My women are on the brink of deception, I say
And how should one decide
They come in and out of sadder places all the time
Had it been any worse
The bad people would be every bit evil as you are now
Our interests are muddled, he said
Let me ask you, if work got in the way

Yes, like the sun reflected on a disturbed ocean
Do not judge my book by its cover
It has many torn pages
Aditya Roy Oct 2018
Life on the farm
Is for the strong of heart
Who can find new and verdant green patches
Of grass even when the soil is parched
It is for those optimistic in mind
Who expect the caprice of rain
Even when it is a scintillating day
Where the sun has barely been away
It is for the experienced in body
Who can find that hint of moisture in the air
Without a sight or sound of something GRAY
And tell from there cattle's awkward gait
That it's time to lead them to their hay
Or become coyote carcass-bait
Not to mention, farmers are some of the hardest workers.
Aditya Roy Jan 2019
When done with the grammar
I gotta write about us
When you have done with
Your weirdness and relations
You can stay with me
The presence is the broken
My skull
Hurts

I'm done with my skull
Write poems
And Write songs
I used to think about you I guess
I sent out later

Breaking up with you
Seamlessly easier
Left me on the door
For the later than Tomorrow

Live till you love Today
Tomorrow is when you die
#poetry #creativity
Aditya Roy Oct 2018
Thoughts of feather
Lay within
Fly untethered
Life's a win
"The process of scientific discovery is, in effect, a continual flight from wonder"- Albert Einstein
Aditya Roy Oct 2018
Crawling through
Through trenches
Found my way with the fences
But trapped
By Panzers
Clicked their pictures
But didn't catch their
Canons
Anonymous
Aditya Roy Nov 2018
The heat
Of the curiosity
Comes as it
Closets luminosity
Of the city
If you cannot feed a hundred people, then just feed one"-Mother Teresa
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Cat
You'll be a lion soon
Dog
You'll meet a man
Girl
You'll keep those nine lives with you
Boy
You'll feel whole again
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
Light as a feather, I'll make it through stormy breaths
Hurricans, and peaks that are high, I can pertinently relate
The pretending to make haste from the already broken place
Landing up in edifices of emotions and eyes that are windows, now looking like hunger
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
An atheist and believer
Both go to a bar
Come back home, and believe in God
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
I was hardly thinking when I entered the acropolis
The windy roads talked of carefree days, I was to last
At last, my chance came in the talk of strangers in cinema pans and wave cuts
Interfaced, by the aversion to cloudy vision, I adjusted my glasses
Walking among others, could not be more perusing and anticipating
The dissipating dreariness was really smothering my look for a change
Yesteryears shifted by my tainted feeling of flighting writes, and unopened letters
The mailman checks my mail in the mailbox and the ordinariness of things
Committing to the vapid and the milk and closeted wine, in the shepherd's column
My hands were painted with writer's ink, the thoughts just kept flowing
In the rainmaker writer, it was a syllable of doubt and dough, that I was looking at a compensation or stay
The company wasn't hard to come by, the room was charged quarters
In the middle, there was a trapdoor and I felt drawn and quartered
Garrulous crowds talked of Garibaldi, Aristotle, and praise was the talk of the century
Mephistopheles has become somewhat of an errant symbol of a syllogism with your sins
One leads to the other, and follows the posterior, laying logos for following the argument
The argument is not something that writes in my journal, but, it crossed my mind, anyway.


Voracious readers, devoted people, and a couple of friends made my stay, a welcoming farm
Likewise, life's not picket-fences, gambling, drunkenness and staying alive
It's living life to it's fullest and appreciating each moment like it's your last class in life
At some point, philosophy can be unspeakably lame
Well, your ambitions are lame too, and women need to trample over
Just tramping a few, could get you shiny shoes in this American dream
We have divorced ourselves from the idea of nationalism, and I'm sure we make good citizens
I am not even sure why entered the acropolis, as it does not accept speakers like the colosseum
Crossing paths and circling winds were once where crossed swords in history
No, I'm in Rome and looking at the short nightcaps and scenic speakeasy, my mind is wasted on women
But, books and bookers and fantastic factotums who service my every need
Once, they used to shine my car, as I walked among Hollywood stars
Now, I live with my estranged wife and intermittent wives, who are feral and feline
I might even call some of the lithe, but, you're on my mind
Smelling the paint off some of them reminds me of your person laconic and pale
Some of these girls were rather beautiful, I must say, but, the heart was lost with you
Nursing your every need and caring for you, was the biggest burden
That I learned to cherish, and the love was unreal
It was fading like the wind catching me in those eyes
The first sight was love, and now I see you every day as a routine
In the hospice, hoping cancer doesn't spread in the acropolis
Polished ceilings and hovering over us are towering structures, and love is no object
Love is an ordeal, and it takes hard work and effort
These days in this short day in the life of the caring girl, the buildings, and the houses
Living in this city remains all dead, but, empty
Dying in this city remains all dead, but, dying seems more real with
As all this fame, is make-believe
This acropolis is mortal
You are immortal, busy leaving a good feeling
Which is something I can believe in, even through existential crises
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
With a sudden breath
The sands of time came and went
And with a couple of footprints, we imprinted the vehement sands
Aditya Roy Aug 2020
Your song rejuvenates my heart
Your melody reminds me of the past
All of which have turned cold and dry
Like two worlds apart
When you sing to my soul
It really soothes it tonight
The withering flower inside
Grows a little higher and the petals a little longer
Please, stay with me at twilight
When you leave me for her
It is like we are
Two...
In one universe
Too close to ignore our love
So we forget about what is love
I hope you stay with me, tonight.
Aditya Roy May 2020
The starlight like a wind races to cover the sky
Spilling the sands of time into the oceanic blue tides
When the moon comes to bring the inside of a bellied whale to shore
The ocean, crystalline, dazzles in the greatness of such lore
Almost as if a dream of nerves less and muscles more
Part 2
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
If you woke up
Like this
You have the capacity to stay awake
Aditya Roy Jul 2019
The ember of time
Lights like a fire
In the embracing of a concept
That took a nightcap
And the candid, are really sure of the phone call
That lit up the thirst for knowledge
Of redundant problems that require further realization
It's feeling, no modus operandi, no feeling of veritable nature
In this compromising mother of nature
Since the wide eyes fallaciously wake
And the indolent breezes that wash over me like sirens
The loudness of the morning sun wakes me up
Like the smiling Sun prays for the unnurtured
From the dark, you can see the light
If you dig further into your force of nature
Aditya Roy May 2020
The color of her hair
Draping over her face so fair
For a lover, she has no haught or air
She is one, who can hold me in a stare

Beethoven looks for music
In a church to express her love
Among his notes
Such are her words, as compared to some song

She has the glow of muses
If she wants to amuse you
You will never know
You will always be joyous, looking into the heart of light

A cold cup of coffee, she takes it strong
It's just the smoke from the chimney, that tells me she is home
Back in her town among the old
My heart longs for her, but, she doesn't stay awhile

For an endless time, I gaze
The trees rustle and anticipate
Without her, my heart loses its fire and blaze
You will understand my angst if you see her face

As I stand bare against the wall
With a shadow of her in the distant willow
Amidst the howling wind drowning out my sorrow
There are many a present for each tomorrow

If my love was true
It is because of you
The cellos will sway and sing
To those songs of love and hate
Satire is tragedy plus time. You give it enough time, the public, the reviewers will allow you to satirize it. Which is ridiculous if you think about it.
Lenny Bruce
Aditya Roy Jul 2021
I hoped genuinely
That we could be friends
But, you want someone else
As your friend.

Breakup?
Breaking apart
Falling apart
Moving on unsuccessfully

Don't underestimate me
For I show very little emotion
But inside there is an ocean
That can flood lands, but let out a few helpless tears
Here's how a breakup would feel. If only I got into something worth my time.
Aditya Roy Aug 2019
We swirl like the dragons
Free from dungeons and darkness
In eternal salvation like salamanders
Although we aren't lizards hanging from trees
Hung up on life and disease
Breathing the air of autumn leaves
Dancing with the breeze, and ceasing to exist
Sending you our energies in the form of soft lullabies
If you can add to the good, you can keep away the evil
You can bring peace to yourself, and others in desperate need of quiet
You can be free from the peace of mind
Understand freedom in a nutshell, hanging like frescoed paintings
On top of a shelf of porridge and crimson red cherries, pears tresses
The parchment of each other, writing well within the textual framework of partridges in a pear tree
We can pray together, or remain silent forever
In vow of silence, and make lonesome Lumos shine bright like the kites running after in eros
Of the atmosphere, silenced forever, we sing lullabies for the ones to hear in their peace
A man with a peace of mind can understand silence and hold his tongue in the palm of murmurs
The sound swirls through the dungeon-like darkness, hunger for a touch of soil in the cold icy winters
We moon over these things, and it dawned on me that silence can last forever
And it isn't always good or bad
Sometimes it is evil to press and good to release yourself
Expand your mind, and be shapeless like water crashing against troughs flowing streams of fruit
Rivers could ripen, feel the song yonder deepen your soul
We wash these tears, from the eyes of agreeable people and disagreements come to me in a dream
These dreams are made of arguments and debates, I reason with myself unable to ever wake up in the morning
Howl from the depths of hell, and arrive on thin lands watching us with thin eyes like mirrors on cars, add what is specifically your own
Arrive in heaven, better to reign in hell
I'm lost in paradise on this ruin of thy moon and stars
Looking away from the fingers pointing at me like apples and bumps
Words are for the lugging carriage, to carry out their travels in their worlds from battered broken places
Wry comments from the crowd, and some cages of parakeets singing in kisses
Snakes in the grains of rice, stopping us from hissing from our caregivers and calling them unforgiving
Without food, I do not think I could live on
Without a mirror, I do not think I could live ignorantly with this hubris
Ran from the house at the age, I don't think I could live in such a cold climate
Raising my glass to my birthday invitees, they look at me blowing the birthday candles out, I'm in the seventh circle of Hell
Knells and bell tolls, ceramic steel galoshes, bitumen, and hydrophobic gum puts these dharma bums chewing grass together in apple streets full of cosmic debris
That look young and pretty, and pestering me with a limerick for some hypnosis and mirages in this solipsism
Aging like a dragon that used to burn out the flame of Hell, saving the morning again and again

If you're so cosmic, why don't you explain life to us from the Beezlebub spell, little dragon
Aditya Roy May 2019
please come back. If you can't, tell me where you're going
love a little, give a little
Aditya Roy May 2019
if your heart's broken. Let me at least fix it before you become a heartbreaker.
Aditya Roy Oct 2018
It's such a perfect day
Tea and biscuits
And a music CD
Takes just one person's judgement
To fade away
What have I done with my life anyway
But on this auspicious night
Sleep comes crawling like a ghostly fright
To relieve me of the aches of yesterday
So easily
I hope all of you have as much fun understanding it as I had writing it.
Aditya Roy Oct 5
When you get out
Of a depressive spell
It feels like you've come out
Of the longest hangover
Ever
Hope people see the humour in this. First joke I've cracked in a long time.
Aditya Roy May 2020
You are the sunshine
I cannot live without
Not unlike a kid
Garmented in innocence

You are the rain
I cannot live without
Quite in likeness to tears
I cannot stop from falling

You are the sunshine of my life
And my rain on a cloudy day
An essential weather report that I adore
That's why I need you more
It's not raining these days. But, there is a cyclone on the way.
Aditya Roy Feb 2020
Baby, please hold me close
Under the orange skies when you look far away
Love, on seven waves
Night skies sparkle like my heart of stars

Love is for sale
Looking for a fabulous ride
Those were the days when we were alive
The hate has died

Then she'll be a true lover
Who laughs like angels
And wishes for God
As she scars herself in regret

Love is for sale
Where is the time
For cars moving too fast
To hear her sing on the pavement

It is a still life washed in color
In simple faded time
The shadows cover the store
For someone who wants to be mine

Love isn't for sale, just take a breath
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