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Naveen Kumar May 2020
There was a tadpole
who lived in a tight pool.
He waited to be a frog
before fainting the winter fog.
To hop in hard land of dry sand
where huge trees stand.

What happened when he hop?
For his unluck, against his hope.
He fell under a giant boot,
instead of on a tree root.
I tried a funny and silly poem for the first time. Please let me know how it is in comments below.
Naveen Kumar May 2020
She is making tea for her poet-husband.
Wondering what her husband is writing.
Once he wrote "Charm floats on her cheeks,
like a paper boat on the water.
Dipping and dancing."
Or maybe he is writing something ***** on her.
Like once he wrote -
"Between her thighs is the temple
where I belong."

She is making tea for her poet-husband
thinking he wants to impress her again.
She can hear his pen tapping his teeth.
But she can not see whisky on his table and
she can not see he is watching her sister
as he writes.
Please like and support by following if you like this piece.
Naveen Kumar May 2020
I was all fine in every reason,
yet you wrecked me like I was none.
I'm still holding to my obsession
But you changed like a season.

Now it seems like a part of your theme.
When I'm still flowing in the stream,
how could you walk away with no esteem
like it was all one dream in a dream.
Last line inspired by one of my favorite poets.
"A dream within a dream"
By Edger Allen Poe
Naveen Kumar May 2020
There is a goldfish
living in a shoe.
Afraid to get out
and see the sky blue.

There is a goldfish
living in a shoe.
Who once lived in water
which is blue.
If you like it follow me and support me to publish more poems.
Naveen Kumar Jul 2020
How drunk is drunk to me.
I hear men drink the sweat of their heart away.
I try it every night.
Spend my nights in bar till
I end up fist fighting.
Till my mouth fill with blood
more than whisky.
They won't **** me,
they love their lives.
But I won't stop till they run away.
As I walk back to my apartment
women look at me and frighten
like I'm an animal,
which I wish to be but-
When I reach my apartment,
I ask myself if I'm drunk enough.
And I would say myself,
try better tomorrow.
Naveen Kumar Jun 2020
When I was a kid,
I had a labrador.
He was beaten, beaten his blood out of his face.
I wish I can help him.
But I was beaten too.
By my daddy,
sometimes by my mommy too.

I used to go to school
to escape the chaos in my house.
The school was worse.
They bullied me
throwing my water bottle away.
I was whipped for that.
For losing my water bottle.
The labrador used to stare at me,
he wishes he could help.
I went house
without pens, napkins,
torn notebooks,
sometimes torn uniforms too.
whipped, whipped, whipped
my childish pale flesh.

One day I walked to house
without a pencil eraser.
I was not sad.
I was not scared.
I got beaten a lot of times.
But-
I went house and saw
my labrador
dead.
I did not cry.
I accepted my quota of whips
and took a long walk outside.
I did not cry.
Never abuse a child. NEVER!
Naveen Kumar May 2020
When I was a kid,
I had a labrador.
He was beaten, beaten his blood out of his face.
I wish I can help him.
But I was beaten too.
By my daddy,
sometimes by my mommy too.

I used to go to school
to escape the chaos in my house.
School was worse.
They bullied me throwing my water bottle away.
I was whipped
with my dad's leather belt
for loosing my water bottle.
The labrador used to stare at me,
he wish he could help.
I went house without
pens, napkins,
torn notebooks and torn uniforms.
whipped, whipped, whipped
my childish pale flesh.

One Day I walked to house
without a pencil eraser.
I was not sad.
I was not scared.
I got beaten a lot of times.
But-
I went house and saw
my labrador
dead.
I did not cry.
Accepted my quota of whips
and took a walk outside.
I did not cry.
This poem is very personal to me. I always believe kids need more attention and care. But unfortunately, some of them are not getting it.
Naveen Kumar May 2020
Some poets
mislead
you.

"Don't give up"
is written
by those who write
"Leave when it hurts."

They
confuse
you.

Leaves change
colors
with seasons.

Poets
write
accordingly.

Sometimes,
they behave
homeless.

Poems are fake.
They write in
masks.

People say
beautiful
things.

But they
don't follow
them

They knew
they are
wrong.

Poetry is
not a philosophy.
It's only a confused
poet's diary.

So don't read
poetry.
Or atleast,
don't take them serious.
Ofcourse I wrote this in mask.
Read more poetry, this world needs them.
Naveen Kumar May 2020
Send your love flying
for my soul is wearing gaunt
without your heavenly face.

In this heart of the night,
your thoughts are glowing bright
tie words some wings tight.

Send your words flying
for the song of the river
of your thoughts flowing.

For my dry soul of crying,
for your presence is skiving,
send your love flying.

When the moon is still shining
above the mountains and rain,
send a kiss over the pines.

A kiss of your fairy lips
and dreamy eyes of a smile.
For my heart is bursting in solitude.

For my eyes waiting for your love
to rest them in this night,
Send your love flying.
Naveen Kumar May 2020
Leave the stars be flying,
by seeing your beauty,
they will be dying to stark.

Leave the bees wandering fruitless,
if they witness your sweetness,
they will be wondering thoughtless.

You are a flower dipped in dew.
He who made honeydew,
must have mad you.
Would love to read your thoughts below. :)
Naveen Kumar May 2020
India is about to war
on Pakistan.
I'm busy getting my
degree.
Climate is burning
the ice.
New parasites are evolving
in our lungs.
Immigration is devastating
employment.
But people are busy
paying their bills.
Spaceships are surrounding us.
Government is announcing
a new refugee scheme.
ISRO is launching
forty satellites.
But kids are busy
practising their parents' signature.
Young is busy
risking life to buy marijuana.
Youth is busy
begging for jobs.
Adults are busy
spying kids' notebooks.
The world has enough problems
already
to make something new.
It is like adding
a new task in the to-do list
in the rush hours.
Bees becoming extinct.
Well-
let me get my degree first.

— The End —