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 Jun 2017
Mysterious Aries
Eyes aghast, mind collapsed

Truly, night is longer than day

The picture of a genuine smile

Seems Mercury or Mars else, Jupiter, away



Patience stuff must hold so much

During time of a twisted despair

We need a lengthy break

Sigh, a long breath of spanking air



Build anew, start again

Hey, that's how life works

As long as hope still lingers on

The home of a true smile, still on Earth...





June 22, 2017

Mysterious_aries
 Jun 2017
Nishu Mathur
How well she grows - the perfect rose
A delicate bloom in pink
Little by little, her petals unfold
And blend in poetic ink.
Tall and stately; she is a regal bloom
She reigns and flaunts her style
How she charms prying eyes
And disarms with her scented smile
Though time will turn the tide one day
And she'll wilt, and cease to be
But long will she be remembered
And loved in poetry.
 Jun 2017
Terry Jordan
I speak to trees and animals
Inspired by passion joy and pain
The Seasons and the Stars
Vibrate as words that fall like rain

Still striving for Deliverance
A wish for ‘Once upon a time'
Then a happy ending
Denying all war, fear and crime

Anthropomorphic expression
Uninhibited Truth unfurled
Language follows a path
The Reader lured into that world

I love the trees and animals
Their mysterious connections
Primitive and ripened
Nature’s animized perfection

Ecstasy carries a poet
The similes, metaphors start
All of nature vibrates
Brought closer to the human heart
This was inspired by how, I imagine, poets relate to nature-or how I do, at least.   Also a mockingbird attacking my old cat outside on the patio today needed a talking to...
 Jun 2017
Nishu Mathur
I stand on the shore, my feet sinking in the sands,
My hair tousled wild in winds hustling hands,
Covering my face, veiling my eyes,
Distantly, I hear the seagulls, their yearning cries.
I grip firmer and hold myself tight,
In dusk's diminishing, dwindling twilight.

I watch the waves lunge at me -
Overwhelming, menacingly.
But as they race to the shore, reaching my feet
They drench me, turn back and then recede.

I see another wave, I yearn to move a step behind.
Fear and uncertainty fill my troubled mind.
But I still stand, stand my ground,
Unmindful of the sounds,
Of the winds and the waves,
In a trance, lost, nature's slave.

I nearly fall, my balance lost,
Taken by surprise, by waves tossed.
But I still stand, stand with unsteady feet,
Where the land and waters meet.

I, on the seashore, a speck, besides a sea so vast -
I know that each wave will rest and it too shall pass.
 Jun 2017
Nishu Mathur
There is nothing like, for a thirsty voice, water clear and sweet,
A loaf of bread for a hungry man and his misery would retreat.
There is nothing like, for tired eyes, a night of gentle sleep,
Nothing like, for a weary body, the comfort of slumber deep.
There is nothing more stirring than a new born's hushed cries,
And nothing more heart warming than a twinkle in tiny eyes.
There is nothing like, for a tearful child, his mothers warm hold,
Or the wisdom of generations through his father told.

There is nothing like, for an unsteady heart, the call of a friend,
No aching heart that a friends love can not heal or mend.
There is nothing like, for a bruised soul, the calm of gentle words,
The miracle of a kind voice in deep recesses heard.
There is nothing like, for a battered heart, the comfort of a smile,
The promise of a tomorrow, though it may take a while.
There is nothing like, for a broken spirit, the touch of a helping hand
Gestures never washed away... eternal footprints in the sand.
 Jun 2017
Nishu Mathur
In the evening sky
he hung in celestial glory
I thought he came early

As the blue paled
he became brighter

Luminous, white and bold
I loved him dearly
I held him in my hands and heart
cupped his fullness
in my eyes

He moved with me
I watched captivated

I stood in his golden light
and beauty
soaking in silver slivers
into my soul from my skin

Now he lives in me
and I in him
 Jun 2017
Fucking tired
today my mother told me i had a ****** outlook on life,
and maybe,
she's right.

i believe that we all die
each and every one of us
nothing matters
we all go at some point

she says i once had dreams and goals
i responded with
yes
but
is it worth the stress?
i could be just as happy leading a simple life
with the man i love
maybe some kids
and pets
and even knowing that its all in my head
i could be happy

or i could spend hours worrying bout homework
staying up late
till i graduate
only to do it all over in a collage
and put myself up to my neck in student loans
who'd want that?
maybe you
maybe my mother
but not me

I'd rather watch my shows
laugh with my friends
drink with friends who are now as family
have a cigarette as i watch my smoke fade in the star light
**** my man till we pass out

of course i only ask my mother
if it's worth the stress

i can't tell her why
not now anyways
for she stills sees me an ignorant child
who thinks she knows all

but in reality
its quite the oppose
i know nothing
nothing of what tomorrow will bring
i rather live my life
today
then die fearing it
then die fearing a supreme power
then die feeling i didn't fulfill my goals
no
hell no
i rather die with both my middle fingers in the air
a bottle of whiskey on my side
a smoke in my right hand
and a joint in my left
my favorite show playing on the TV.
friends laughing around me
my love by my side
and children and pets playing
without a care in the freaking world

so mother
you can think
my outlook on life's ******
you can call me a child

but really
if nothing matters
and nobody belongs anywhere
then we can do whatever we want
and be truly free

so dear mother
stop stressing
just for today
and come watch tv
 Jun 2017
Nishu Mathur
The sky oft becomes dark and thunders
there are clouds as grey as can be
but behind those clouds waits the sun
quietly and patiently

of course it will rain and pour
clouds will rumble, clash  and roar
but they will not forever last
those dark clouds will come to pass

these clouds are not just rimmed in silver
look up close, with hope behold
for those black threatening clouds
are lined with the brightest gold
 Jun 2017
Terry Jordan
I can’t take Sam off speed dial
I’m expecting his call
Especially Sunday mornings
Warming up, stretching tall

That’s when he always calls me
Though sometimes I call him
Now twenty Sundays have passed
My chances getting slim

I can’t delete my brother
I’m still yearning for his call
He owes me one, even though
He died one Sunday last fall
A sentimental piece from real life-I keep Sam's number on my speed dial & miss him terribly since he died 5 months ago...
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