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Pk Apr 2017
The pain downstairs
Was too much to feel
Equal almost to a want
Crushed hence under
The unwanted theory of it

Left alone in some cabin
In an unexplored island
Where love wont devastate
Its honest memory wont hurt
A hurt I worship in secret

Every eye I see cries for me
Every tongue supports me
All are hurt by those actions
Actions which hurt me
Actions which loved me

I may have yelled some
Scratched and bruised pretty
But that time i did not hate
Ain't sure if i loved it either, but
That madness bothered me

At court i sweared holy books
Vomitting out my aggression
Which's easily misunderstood
As according to my family
I am a broken girl

I have but a horrible confession
For i feel dishonored not
I don't feel any shame
Along a life of misery and vain
I went through a consensual pain
Pk
Pk Apr 2017
What love gave me
A sweet message
On a scented creme paper
With bold black broad ink
Foreign to my mind

What many gave me
Love unlimited, just given away
Distribution, in sales
What i fail to accept
Is that simply

What love means to me
A mystery i try to solve
I fear finding it
So I feign finding it already

What love took from me
A whole childhood
With a single blank call
A single - that meant nothing

What i give all this, a spit
A wandering headache
But l am a mad cow
I also, crave its appearance

What i want doesn't matter
I do, i did and I'll just keep doing
What was planned years ago
In my parent's dreams

What love maybe
A magic fable
I like hearing it
And I like hating it

Pk
Pk Mar 2017
I see him in the fields
His pretty hair, uncombed
Swimming in the wrought shoots of wheat

His smell travels faster than sun
Of dry grains and weeds, bathed in sweat
Of moist soil, burnt by scarlet sun

His colour, a theater of wheat grains
His face, an album of old trips
Different shapes play in it differently

Drowning in the rain of dust
His brows are tired of tightening
Over and over, poor them

He waves me, while trying to stand
On the leg that always refuses
Almost there, it flexes and he falls

The brows relax, reality is welcomed
He apologizes in a low voice
A god in the lap of golden soil

I see him in his garden
Where on his fine knee
He is on a fine soil, fine smile

Tomatoes playing in his hands
Leaves slipping through his fingers
And this fine son, does all he can

I see him in rains, when on one
He concluded what i should like
A fine man with fine two legs

(But) There is this one man i like,
Who smells of wheat,  who has a fine leg
He who ever liked me
Pk
  Mar 2017 Pk
Traveler
I will always feel your presence
Through these quantum
Ethereal waves
These strings they bind
Through our time lines
Beyond the conscious states

Countless questions
Reasoning why
Staggeringly suspect
Those subtle lies

It seems quite complicated
Yet it's as simplistic as can be
Along came a wind of change
And blew two spirits free
...
Traveler Tim
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See ya there!
  Mar 2017 Pk
Valsa George
I am a rain drop flopped down from the clouds
I could have landed in a river or the sea
Then merging with the rising and receding waves
I would have been washed down into oblivion

Or could have fallen from the heights
Into a desolate dreary desert
Amid the blistering granules of sand
To be absorbed into nothingness

Chances are there to have fallen on a rock
Lying scorched in the heat of the mid day sun
Then I would have vanished into thin air
Evaporating into non existence

I could have fallen into a muddy puddle
Or perhaps into a filthy drainage
To be contaminated with the sewage
Or be the breeding ground of worms and bugs

But fortunately for me
I happened to fall into fecund soil
Where there lay in wait a few seeds
Hankering for the cool touch of moisture

Arid souls desperately thirsting for water,
They ****** the molecules within me.
As their dry kernel got soaked and puffed,
Slowly they sprouted and grew into life.

Absorbing again the drops that came after me
They, into towering trees eventually grew
Some touching heaven’s azure heights
And giving shade and shelter to many

Now as I see them crested with flowers
And bearing clusters of luscious fruits
I feel I am there in each leaf and bud
And my essence flows through every vein!

As a teacher, what more is needed for me
To feel contented in life?
For the last several years, I have been teaching in a college. Now my students are scattered everywhere in the world! Some of them are so well placed and some adorning key positions in life. Seeing them, I feel so proud and happy! India is a land where teachers are greatly respected. ‘Mata, Pita, Guru, Daivom’ is a sacred credo of our ancient culture. It means next to God come mother, father and teacher!
  Mar 2017 Pk
L B
I stood in the February snow
the freezing sleet
no boots
no coat
Steam wafting off my fury

My father read the lie
two hundred yards away
and walking toward me

So I owned it
told it
With a snarl
Without a flinch
Both knowing

I held my ground before him
and wore the red of his hand
on my face for a week
Thank you everyone for the views and comments.  The Daily was a nice surprise this evening.


There were five of us kids.  I was the only one who ever did anything like this.  It was like my father needed someone to stop him sometimes.

My father asked, "What are you doing out here?"
I lied,  "Getting some air."

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1801472/the-mayor-of-wesson-street/
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