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My mother is the reason I am on this earth
For nine months she carried me, then gave birth
But this flesh and skin that you now see
Is not the only thing she has given me
God honored me with her curly hair
And the eye shape found in her own stare
But she'd insist it ugly until I would cry
For "Men don't like curls and froggy-eyes"

My mother gave me two siblings to love
And, for them, everyday, I thank the heavens above
But those two young siblings of mine,
Although they are hers by define,
Once upon a time,
They called me mommy
For I cared for them, not she

My mother picked, for me, a father who I treasure
To his parenting, love, and devotion, there is no measure
But since their marriage went South
Only piercing screams have left her mouth
Of her cursing me for being his daughter

My mother showed me how to be strong
She taught me to rise above and continue on
Since I was young, I carried her through hard times
Even though she was absent for all of mine
And so I learned to shoulder the burdens of two

My mother taught me to be myself
And to never walk the path of anyone else
Because upon me she forced her own self
And I was never happy being her

I owe her for the very blood in my heart
But she was never a mother, from the very start
She was a child, scared of being alone
Afraid of being abandoned in a cold empty home
She hated herself and the world too
And I was her crutch in this life of blue

But although it was hard, I forgave her
Although she was wrong, I thank her
And although it hurt, I love her

She was the biggest part of my journey
For she is the reason I am me
All that she wasn't, she taught me to be
And so I am grateful for all she gave me

No matter what,
I still
and always will,
Love my mom <3
This brick.
This bulging pocket of blue jean.
This song player, noise maker, memory saver.
Eternal space.
Secret keeper.
It's my life, this brick.
You think you can touch it? have it? hold it?
Let my secrets run along your nerves and scurry in between your brain cells?
No.
I would rather die an ignominious death and
rot a thousand years in the sea than
watch your eyes scan my life.
Search the deep caverns of my soul.
Watch your heart scream and hear the echoes of blood curdling madness.
Your fingers would burn as
you caress the suggestive sentences.
back and forth and
it comes naturally.
Sad truths.
Depressing facts.
You'd rather pour acid on your
eyes
and have them turn to
dust
than read the conversations,
I swear.
The ability to chirp
and make it appear as if it came from my own mouth?
Ridiculous.
I do not believe in ventriloquism.
Weak images
your eyes cannot behold.
I would feel exposed.
Like "The Woman" bathed
in wool and cloth and silk.
And under memos?
The secret to how my brain works.
Why would I desire you to know the short cut
to my vulnerability?
The grey box to my wiring and the scalpel to my heart.
It's the way my soul thinks.
And you can't know that.
This brick, bulge, memory saver,
it's my secret keeper.
The fidelius charm cast over my own self.
The secret is kept within
the very soul of my secret keeper.
Giving the password up is worthy of death.
You will never hold its life on your hands.
You will never see my
soul.
You will never know my
heart.
Even though you already knew how to speak to my soul.
 Jul 2013 Musings123
Àŧùl
My lover you are,
Youthful you are,
Sweetest you are,
Now who knows,
Which angel you are!

My lover you are & always will be,
Youthful you are & always will be,
The sugar in my cup of life you are!
My HP Poem #327
©Atul Kaushal
 Jul 2013 Musings123
Àŧùl
Call me back when you feel that you need me again.
When you feel that you can adjust with me.
When you feel that you can come out of that world of fantasy.
When you feel that you can come with me.
When you feel that you can tread on the road which is true.
When you feel that you can let others be themselves and that you can only think about us, only think about yourself, success & me.
My HP Poem #331
©Atul Kaushal
Late at night I lie with blinds drawn back
Night drifts just beyond a thin piece of glass,
it drifts too far from reach.
I wish I were outside in it, but watch it I will.
Street lights guide empty roads, impatient, they wait for the air of morning.
I am for once alone in an undisturbed solitude.

Each ticking moment,
from the peaking hour of our brightest stars to the resting streetlights and pale blue air,
Runs through me indefatigable.  
Slowly I turn into a new person as the people and day fade to nothing
Slowly I become more.

The moon cascades light into my room,
it presses its face close to the glass
Both present we are alone.

I consciously listen as my mind wanders.
I am still here, not dreaming.
It is at the death of each day,
far past midnight, words drip onto the white page.
They are not shy nor afraid of displaying their truth.
The moon is empty of judgement.

When the brisk daylight arrives I will cover myself.
When the birds songs ring through dawn
I begin dying again among the life of everything.

But for now in the depth of silence and stillness,
I shall bare myself.
For the night invites such comforting warmth,
I unclothe my thoughts
For the night invites such comforting warmth,
I do not sleep.
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