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the July sun stabs her cheeks pink rose.

where is that wooden bridge i ask her
some way more she says some way more

she never forgets.

the bridge was half finished the last time we came
left us longing what mysteries the other side held.

i think the water has eaten it up
tides are so fatal you know


no way she says only some way more.

then it shows up

six months of wooden planks
six months of waiting
now proudly hanging on the river in spate.

let's go on the other side she cries
in wind scattered voice
her hand upon my shoulder rests.

her way she never forgets.
a river.
 Aug 2015 Anand
SøułSurvivør
~~~<¤>~~~

the river is wide, child
the river runs deep
don't you fret, no
don't you weep

the river is wide, child
the river is wide
but your promise 's
on the other side

~~~

don't be afraid
the current 's slow
and you can meander
with the flow

take your time
there is no rush
hear the water
hear the hush

~ chorus ~

see the world, child
from your boat
watch the others
as they float

see the redness
of the waves
dip your hand
the water saves

~ chorus ~

smell the richness
in your craft
be it a yacht
or be it a raft

the water is sweet, yes
the water is free
it stretches far
as you can see

~~~

the river is wide, child
the river runs deep
pray the Lord
your soul to keep

the river is wide, child
the river is wide
but everyone goes
to the other side


soulsurvivor
(C) 7/13/2015
spiritual lullaby

dedicated to Pradip

~~~<¤>~~~
your behavior is ******, she writes to him,
you're a boar, without a cure,

my good ant Anna often asks me,
how the hail i except you,

she says you belong to that banned of men
that effect a woman's life badly

she also suspects you of elicit affairs
goes on to ad you are to me not fare
and we too don't make a good pare

its about time we go our own weigh
since we don't feet each other at all.

i'm sorry though
i had to pain you this heartful later

but bitter swoon than letter.

p.s. thank god i mate the man who scares and laughs me more than you.
Her wails rent the air

O God how unfair you are
to have snatched him from me
the only man that truly cared
never treated me badly.

Without him is a life to grieve
empty meaningless
take me too O God relieve
this pain of no redress!


Shouldn't we bring a costly cot
of mahogany or such wood
asked the men what was her thought
about carrying her man so good.

Shouldn't the pyre be of sandalwood
the fuel a pure ghee
your husband ma'am was a man too good
to be burned ordinarily.

She paused a while frowning dark
a shadow passed her face
a hint of wince made its mark
a pall of uneasiness.

He's gone to never return
the onus is now on me
to run the days with meager earn
and not spend wastefully.

ordinary wood would burn as good
kerosene would do well
prudence demands not one should
be lavish in funeral.
 Aug 2015 Anand
Chris
~

If only raindrops
were love’s watercolours,
I’d have no need
*for sunny days
 Aug 2015 Anand
Chris
~

Upon a canvas
   blank slate in white
    mind’s eye frontier
  brushstroke whispers
   blended thoughts
    horizon’d dreams
      coating the landscape
   of my every desire
reckless shades
      pushed in place
  dripping from center
       in abstract fountains
   of youthful design
      capturing hand prints
   in wet cement
     dangling from gallery walls
    black on black
        framed visions
   as one more
    masterpiece
collects dust
    in the hallway
          *of my soul
a funny game i wanted to play with me

writing poem within mouth holding
a seed of blackberry.

the fruit was fleshy sweet
till tongue exposed its bone
staled, made it insipid,
as if, was never grown.

spit it out i could not do
that seed utterly dry
for i had given word to you
a poem to write must try.

as i thought up cutish rhyme
that must pleasure fetch
****** grew the seed with time
my mouth was messy wretch.

my tongue was thick of blue
too intense was my plight
but i had given word to you
must hold till end of write.

it's over now this awkward game
what a relief to throw it out
and never again shall i write a poem
with a blackberry seed in mouth.
Warning: never try :)
 Aug 2015 Anand
niamh
Define
 Aug 2015 Anand
niamh
At the end of it all
These walls will fall
And the naked truth
Of your misspent youth
Will stalk your night
And bring to light
The shadowed ways
Of your formative days
But shed your fears
And save your tears,
Your past will not define you.
 Aug 2015 Anand
Sourodeep
The moon is now bright and full
showering silver romance,
to the leaves of tree so dull.

A cricket humming his chants
deep in meditation behind
the dark unknown shrub's branch.

Somewhere in a nest, a hatchling can't sleep
letting out feeble hunger cries
her mother did not fetch enough to feed.

While on my walk, I see those eyes
hiding behind a trunk, peeping
I assure it safety, I know may be lying

Night is the time for them to be,
struggling to enjoy independence and security
this unending night leading them to the unknown
what will remain I wonder at the crack of dawn.
What future can we give to these plants and animals, we have already invaded every inch of land and air.
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