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Oct 2014 · 349
Untitled
Eyes are mine
Tears are mine
The finger is mine

And yes, optimism is a mine
As you dig
So you get

The gold
Oct 2014 · 1.9k
Comflirtable
Understood, no? ;-)
Just a funny word creation
Oct 2014 · 1.0k
Sometimes
Sometimes

Your ability is your curse.
You're asked to do things
But not on your terms
But you're loathed for helping them out

Sometimes

You see fools, dumb-heads
But you're not allowed to call them so
Yes, ignoring is the best way out
But what if when they're all over and intruding?

Sometimes

Hell ya.

Sometimes
Oct 2014 · 1.5k
Cerebral Rendezvous
They are the parallel lines that meet
In the cerebral heat
All that chatter
Everything that matter
Creates life
Without the power of knife

In the rumble of their feet
It's nonsense that they defeat

They are the parallel lines that meet
In the cerebral heat
One of my personal favourites
Oct 2014 · 1.8k
Haiku 47
Scorching heat, sweat pours
Vicious winds, couldn't tame it
Sweat river. It's summer. Whoa!
My 100th poem
Sep 2014 · 361
Do we need a dovecote, eh?
The thing
The thinger
The thingest

The greatest poet I don't know
Endha parandha endha SaaTa?

Poetry is what keeps souls happy. Why making alters and fight over petty things? If someone sees your poem, they may love it. If not, it's not their wavelength. What's the problem if someone doesn't love your poem?
Sep 2014 · 464
Tomorrow
Just
When you think
Tomorrow will never come
It's yesterday

Time flies
And it never lies

Move quick
Or perish
#Time #Tomorrow
Sep 2014 · 256
No Excuse (10 W)
Making excuses
Is a
Bad sign
In a new relationship
Sep 2014 · 248
Haiku 46
Rain is fallin' for
well over three hours sigh!
Roads are swimming pools
Sep 2014 · 711
Haiku 45
None confess that
the lives of theirs projections
of dreams they have
Sep 2014 · 1.4k
Story
The life
As I see
And as I understood
Mixed with imagination
Results in the form of words
Becomes a story
Rest? Unnecessary
Sep 2014 · 2.6k
The fabric of Space-time
The fabric of space-time is
Like a balloon being blown up.
It expands with acceleration,
as if driven by some unknown
DARK ENERGY
Came into my mind just like that.
Aug 2014 · 488
Listen to its story (15 W)
After all  other side of a coin
has an other side

Listen to its story too
Jul 2014 · 263
Haiku 44
Communicated
With eyes, two hearts formed a bond
It's love, a bit more
Jul 2014 · 369
Man, Woman and Love
Man know what love is,
But don't know how to express it.
(But) woman don't know what love is,
But can express it superlatively
- Stefania Schmidt

She's my PhD guide, and she says it's the basic difference between a man and a woman. This poem is made out of her statement

As it is taken as a generalized/universal thing, usual grammar is not used
Jul 2014 · 1.5k
Haiku 43
And so the year
goes on, accompanied by
another famine.
No proper rains this year yet, except occasional drizzles
Under the greenwood tree
     Who loves to lie with me,
     And turn his merry note
     Unto the sweet bird's throat,
   Come hither, come hither, come hither:
     Here shall he see
     No enemy
   But winter and rough weather.

      Who doth ambition shun,
    And loves to live i' the sun,
    Seeking the food he eats,
    And pleas'd with what he gets,
  Come hither, come hither, come hither:
    Here shall he see
    No enemy
  But winter and rough weather.
Greenwood tree = forest

It was one of the famous poems for the play "As You Like It

I came to know about it while reading (I was trained by my English Teacher Mr. Ramaiah to read world lit) Shakespeare in my school. But took a liking to it while I was in my 12th grade. We had it as a lesson at that time
Jun 2014 · 506
Her Art
She never looked nice
She looked like art
And art wasn't supposed to look nice
It was supposed to make you feel
The artist's soul
Soul has no shape
It  can only be felt
Slightly inspired from a friend's quote
There passed a weary time.  Each throat
     Was parched, and glazed each eye.
     A weary time! a weary time!
     How glazed each weary eye,
     When looking westward, I beheld
     A something in the sky.

     At first it seemed a little speck,
     And then it seemed a mist:
     It moved and moved, and took at last
     A certain shape, I wist.

     A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!
     And still it neared and neared:
     As if it dodged a water-sprite,
     It plunged and tacked and veered.

     With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
     We could not laugh nor wail;
     Through utter drought all dumb we stood!
     I bit my arm, I ****** the blood,
     And cried, A sail! a sail!

     With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
     Agape they heard me call:
     Gramercy! they for joy did grin,
     And all at once their breath drew in,
     As they were drinking all.

     See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more!
     Hither to work us weal;
     Without a breeze, without a tide,
     She steadies with upright keel!

     The western wave was all a-flame
     The day was well nigh done!
     Almost upon the western wave
     Rested the broad bright Sun;
     When that strange shape drove suddenly
     Betwixt us and the Sun.

     And straight the Sun was flecked with bars,
     (Heaven's Mother send us grace!)
     As if through a dungeon-grate he peered,
     With broad and burning face.

     Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
     How fast she nears and nears!
     Are those her sails that glance in the Sun,
     Like restless gossameres!

     Are those her ribs through which the Sun
     Did peer, as through a grate?
     And is that Woman all her crew?
     Is that a DEATH? and are there two?
     Is DEATH that woman's mate?

     Her lips were red, her looks were free,
     Her locks were yellow as gold:
     Her skin was as white as leprosy,
     The Night-Mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she,
     Who thicks man's blood with cold.

     The naked hulk alongside came,
     And the twain were casting dice;
     "The game is done!  I've won!  I've won!"
     Quoth she, and whistles thrice.

     The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out:
     At one stride comes the dark;
     With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea.
     Off shot the spectre-bark.

     We listened and looked sideways up!
     Fear at my heart, as at a cup,
     My life-blood seemed to sip!

     The stars were dim, and thick the night,
     The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white;
     From the sails the dew did drip—
     Till clombe above the eastern bar
     The horned Moon, with one bright star
     Within the nether tip.

     One after one, by the star-dogged Moon
     Too quick for groan or sigh,
     Each turned his face with a ghastly pang,
     And cursed me with his eye.

     Four times fifty living men,
     (And I heard nor sigh nor groan)
     With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,
     They dropped down one by one.

     The souls did from their bodies fly,—
     They fled to bliss or woe!
     And every soul, it passed me by,
     Like the whizz of my CROSS-BOW!
The Sun now rose upon the right:
     Out of the sea came he,
     Still hid in mist, and on the left
     Went down into the sea.

     And the good south wind still blew behind
     But no sweet bird did follow,
     Nor any day for food or play
     Came to the mariners' hollo!

     And I had done an hellish thing,
     And it would work 'em woe:
     For all averred, I had killed the bird
     That made the breeze to blow.
     Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay
     That made the breeze to blow!

     Nor dim nor red, like God's own head,
     The glorious Sun uprist:
     Then all averred, I had killed the bird
     That brought the fog and mist.
     'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,
     That bring the fog and mist.

     The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,
     The furrow followed free:
     We were the first that ever burst
     Into that silent sea.

     Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,
     'Twas sad as sad could be;
     And we did speak only to break
     The silence of the sea!

     All in a hot and copper sky,
     The ****** Sun, at noon,
     Right up above the mast did stand,
     No bigger than the Moon.

     Day after day, day after day,
     We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
     As idle as a painted ship
     Upon a painted ocean.

     Water, water, every where,
     And all the boards did shrink;
     Water, water, every where,
     Nor any drop to drink.

     The very deep did rot: O Christ!
     That ever this should be!
     Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
     Upon the slimy sea.

     About, about, in reel and rout
     The death-fires danced at night;
     The water, like a witch's oils,
     Burnt green, and blue and white.

     And some in dreams assured were
     Of the spirit that plagued us so:
     Nine fathom deep he had followed us
     From the land of mist and snow.

     And every tongue, through utter drought,
     Was withered at the root;
     We could not speak, no more than if
     We had been choked with soot.

     Ah! well a-day! what evil looks
     Had I from old and young!
     Instead of the cross, the Albatross
     About my neck was hung
Second part of the previously posted epic poem
Jun 2014 · 8.9k
The Taste of Kiss
I

The Taste of Kiss is Love
Remember the moment
When your Mother
First kissed you

II

Kiss!
It's my Coat of Arms
Imprinted upon you
Saying that
You are the Statement of my Life
Copy righted. Right from my PhD thesis
Jun 2014 · 3.8k
Haiku 42 (Waugh)
I' m special he says
Believed in it his teammates
Champions they were
A tribute to Steve Waugh who believed himself to be special, and changed how Test Cricket is played. He is the greatest captain the game ever saw
I imagine this midnight moment's forest:
Something else is alive
Beside the clock's loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move.

Through the window I see no star:
Something more near
though deeper within darkness
Is entering the loneliness:

Cold, delicately as the dark snow
A fox's nose touches twig, leaf;
Two eyes serve a movement, that now
And again now, and now, and now

Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees, and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
Of a body that is bold to come

Across clearings, an eye,
A widening deepening greenness,
Brilliantly, concentratedly,
Coming about its own business

Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox,
It enters the dark hole of the head.
The window is starless still; the clock ticks,
The page is printed.
It is an ancient Mariner,
And he stoppeth one of three.
'By thy long grey beard and glittering eye,
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,
And I am next of kin;
The guests are met, the feast is set:
May'st hear the merry din.'

He holds him with his skinny hand,
'There was a ship,' quoth he.
'Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!'
Eftsoons his hand dropt he.

He holds him with his glittering eye—
The Wedding-Guest stood still,
And listens like a three years' child:
The Mariner hath his will.

The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone:
He cannot choose but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.

'The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,
Merrily did we drop
Below the kirk, below the hill,
Below the lighthouse top.

The Sun came up upon the left,
Out of the sea came he!
And he shone bright, and on the right
Went down into the sea.

Higher and higher every day,
Till over the mast at noon—'
The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast,
For he heard the loud bassoon.

The bride hath paced into the hall,
Red as a rose is she;
Nodding their heads before her goes
The merry minstrelsy.

The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast,
Yet he cannot choose but hear;
And thus spake on that ancient man,
The bright-eyed Mariner.

And now the STORM-BLAST came, and he
Was tyrannous and strong:
He struck with his o'ertaking wings,
And chased us south along.

With sloping masts and dipping prow,
As who pursued with yell and blow
Still treads the shadow of his foe,
And forward bends his head,
The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast,
And southward aye we fled.

And now there came both mist and snow,
And it grew wondrous cold:
And ice, mast-high, came floating by,
As green as emerald.

And through the drifts the snowy clifts
Did send a dismal sheen:
Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken—
The ice was all between.

The ice was here, the ice was there,
The ice was all around:
It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,
Like noises in a swound!

At length did cross an Albatross,
Thorough the fog it came;
As if it had been a Christian soul,
We hailed it in God's name.

It ate the food it ne'er had eat,
And round and round it flew.
The ice did split with a thunder-fit;
The helmsman steered us through!

And a good south wind sprung up behind;
The Albatross did follow,
And every day, for food or play,
Came to the mariner's hollo!

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,
It perched for vespers nine;
Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,
Glimmered the white Moon-shine.'

'God save thee, ancient Mariner!
From the fiends, that plague thee thus!—
Why look'st thou so?'—With my cross-bow
I shot the ALBATROSS.
It's an epic poem, worth the reading effort
I remember the night my mother
was stung by a scorpion. Ten hours
of steady rain had driven him
to crawl beneath a sack of rice.

Parting with his poison - flash
of diabolic tail in the dark room -
he risked the rain again.

The peasants came like swarms of flies
and buzzed the name of God a hundred times
to paralyse the Evil One.

With candles and with lanterns
throwing giant scorpion shadows
on the mud-baked walls
they searched for him: he was not found.
They clicked their tongues.
With every movement that the scorpion made his poison moved in Mother's blood, they said.

May he sit still, they said
May the sins of your previous birth
be burned away tonight, they said.
May your suffering decrease
the misfortunes of your next birth, they said.
May the sum of all evil
balanced in this unreal world

against the sum of good
become diminished by your pain.
May the poison purify your flesh

of desire, and your spirit of ambition,
they said, and they sat around
on the floor with my mother in the centre,
the peace of understanding on each face.
More candles, more lanterns, more neighbours,
more insects, and the endless rain.
My mother twisted through and through,
groaning on a mat.
My father, sceptic, rationalist,
trying every curse and blessing,
powder, mixture, herb and hybrid.
He even poured a little paraffin
upon the bitten toe and put a match to it.
I watched the flame feeding on my mother.
I watched the holy man perform his rites to tame the poison with an incantation.
After twenty hours
it lost its sting.

My mother only said
Thank God the scorpion picked on me
And spared my children.
Belated Mothers day wishes
May 2014 · 661
Haiku 41
Flowers of water
Came from the clouds tip tap tup
It rains in our town
Yes. Finally it rains
May 2014 · 722
INVICTUS by W. E. Henley
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is ******, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Mandela often recited this poem to his fellow prisoners to inspire them

A film of the same name was directed by the incomparable Clint Eastwood, and it was a huge hit. Morgan Freeman acted as Mandela, and costarred was Matt Damon
May 2014 · 424
Good sense
I think
Good sense is shown
More in the ability
To avoid pain
Than
In the mere
Desire to do so
May 2014 · 1.2k
Life Tree
Life Tree*

Grow like a Tree
Flow like water 
Rise like the sun 
Chill like the moon 
Love like the God 
But show your own flavour 
Integrity, it's the buzz word 

- G
inspired by a photo I had taken :D
May 2014 · 10.2k
Camera
She has a third eye
It's not a destructive
But à constructive force
Behind beautiful photographs
Lord Shiva is said to have third eye, with which he can make anything to Ashes of need be. Mostly the sinners.

This poem is dedicated to my friend, Priyanka, one of the best photographers I know. She has a distinctive photographic language
May 2014 · 559
Haiku 40
Fireball in the sky
Burning on all cylinders
Yes, it is summer
Suffering from the summer heat. No rains as yet
May 2014 · 1.4k
One
One
For that one sentence
We write hundreds of pages

We wait millions of seconds
To experience that  one moment of bliss
inspired from a friend named Poornima
May 2014 · 1.6k
Love Virus
Her smile is infectious
Contagious
Addictive
Seductive
Effective
I'm infected with a virus named her
Suffering from love
And the symptom is
Smile million times a day
Apr 2014 · 1.4k
Haiku 39
Loud cheers for clouds
That bring us rain and flowers
of showers that drench us
Still it's not raining in our place
Apr 2014 · 4.5k
Happy Birthday Choi Min-sik
In the Oldboy
I Saw the Devil
In the New World
A Nameless Gangster
With a Crying Fist

With Shiri
Came the Happy End
For Our Twisted Hero

Himalaya of Asian actors
Choi Min-sik

Happy birthday to you
52 => 25 (the one against 25 fight scene from Oldboy)
Choi Min-sik, the iconic Korean actor of Oldboy fame. He turns 52 today. May he come up with many more successful films

Italic words are the films in which he acted
Apr 2014 · 459
Money song
Money O my honey
Makes You a minister
Money O my Honey
Makes pauper sinister!
Money brings sweet nothings
Maiden Damsel loves and sings
World to feet one blink it brings
When gone Ay You ****** Jinx!
Money..O my Honey
Makes and Mars so many things!
Pastures passed are to the hind
Memories lovely to the wind
Jiggles Pebbles  Mind is Lake
Joy and Sorrow sweep ashore and creak break
MOney..O my Honey..
Will do undo anything
Money O my honey
Makes beggar or a King!
Also major contribution by Sri Vanam Venkata Varaprasadarao, a brother figure for a film planned by me.
Apr 2014 · 538
Haiku 38
It's orange in the
sky. Shadows became longer
Evening approached
Apr 2014 · 647
Alphaboetry C+
123
                                           Thoughts
                               always
                         matter
                       Thinking
                       'it
                     won’t
                      matter',
                           matters
                                        light bulb, is
                                       

                       ­                 a product
                                        of
                                        thought
It was a place of force --
The wind gagging my mouth with my own blown hair,
Tearing off my voice, and the sea
Blinding me with its lights, the lives of the dead
Unreeling in it, spreading like oil.
I tasted the malignity of the gorse,
Its black spikes,
The extreme unction of its yellow candle-flowers.
They had an efficiency, a great beauty,
And were extravagant, like torture.
There was only one place to get to.
Simmering, perfumed,
The paths narrowed into the hollow.
And the snares almost effaced themselves --
Zeros, shutting on nothing,
Set close, like birth pangs.
The absence of shrieks
Made a hole in the hot day, a vacancy.
The glassy light was a clear wall,
The thickets quiet.
I felt a still busyness, an intent.
I felt hands round a tea mug, dull, blunt,
Ringing the white china.
How they awaited him, those little deaths!
They waited like sweethearts. They excited him.
And we, too, had a relationship --
Tight wires between us,
Pegs too deep to uproot, and a mind like a ring
Sliding shut on some quick thing,
The constriction killing me also.
Apr 2014 · 436
Elizabeth Squires
She writes beautiful poetry
Experiments with form and content

Many styles, many ideas
Some vivid, few abstract
but none mediocre

She's the Queen of Haikus
Scored a century recently

And I thank, I had learnt Haikus from her
One of the first persons that I followed here, and learnt about many forms of poetry reading her beautiful poems. Wish to thank the good friend, teacher :-)
Apr 2014 · 634
Haiku 37
Shades of solitude
Inviting me for a day of
self talk, truth finding
Apr 2014 · 921
Haiku 36 (Imprisoned)
There is a sense of
Isolation in the life
for free thought imprisoned
Apr 2014 · 518
Love
Why shall I love you like your father do?
I shall love you like I do -
A dialogue from my upcoming book

"That Moment When Kira Kissed Me", a romance novella
Apr 2014 · 332
Language
I am not confined to
Any one language.
I use the language
Which is apt at that time
To give fuller meaning to
What I want to say
Apr 2014 · 196
Haiku 35
How do you manage
A healthy life when you do
everything wrong
Apr 2014 · 411
Haiku 34
Leave away what you
don't deserve and then you will
left with peace of mind
what
Apr 2014 · 1.1k
Bond
And when all the wars are over
A butterfly will still be beautiful
Adjusted from a quotation by Ruskin Bond, famous Indian English writer
Apr 2014 · 235
Haiku 33
Whatever happens
The parents will be watching
their children closely
Apr 2014 · 505
By Definition (Haiku 32)
By definition
One-off success in truth
Same as a failure
Started Haikuing, yet again :D
She gives him his eyes, she found them
Among some rubble, among some beetles

He gives her her skin
He just seemed to pull it down out of the air and lay it over her
She weeps with fearfulness and astonishment

She has found his hands for him, and fitted them freshly at the wrists
They are amazed at themselves, they go feeling all over her

He has assembled her spine, he cleaned each piece carefully
And sets them in perfect order
A superhuman puzzle but he is inspired
She leans back twisting this way and that, using it and laughing
Incredulous

Now she has brought his feet, she is connecting them
So that his whole body lights up

And he has fashioned her new hips
With all fittings complete and with newly wound coils, all shiningly oiled
He is polishing every part, he himself can hardly believe it

They keep taking each other to the sun, they find they can easily
To test each new thing at each new step

And now she smoothes over him the plates of his skull
So that the joints are invisible

And now he connects her throat, her ******* and the pit of her stomach
With a single wire

She gives him his teeth, tying the the roots to the centrepin of his body

He sets the little circlets on her fingertips

She stitches his body here and there with steely purple silk

He oils the delicate cogs of her mouth

She inlays with deep cut scrolls the nape of his neck

He sinks into place the inside of her thighs

So, gasping with joy, with cries of wonderment
Like two gods of mud
Sprawling in the dirt, but with infinite care
They bring each other to perfection.
Brutiful
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