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She's a beautiful woman.

When age left her side
she grew a bed of marigold
blooming yellow and red
catching sunshine in winter
and as the years tiptoed to her
a fresh bed of love she made
and lay thereupon newly wed.
The spider was watching Cathy finish her cake.

Thank God, it thought, she hasn't seen me
green me hiding in the green grass, it was grinning.

Why are you so scared of me, Cathy?
do I look ugly, mean, harmful?
once I saw me in a dewdrop
on a blade of grass
the reflection was quite majestic
my eyes were dark as the deep sea
held only peace and no malice.

You too are so cute Cathy
a butterfly in the meadow
on the sky a sparkling rainbow
and how I would have loved
spin my web right there
in the thicket of your hair.

Cathy was singing.

It needed her one glance
to see the spider dance.
Thought to begin the year with a children's poem :)
Up the steep steps
as you reach the age old fort,
you breathless behold
the green valley down below
and that magnificent mound of rock
by the name Robinson Hill.

In the sweet silence of birds' chirping,
the winds reek of rifles and gun smoke
and you hear not the rustling leaves
but bullets echoing all over the valley
one more down, another down
as they held the fort till fell breathless
passing into tombs and memorials
you read to pause for a breath
up above the green valley
where the grasses grew over the blood.
Duar War (1865) declared by the British on the Bhutanese.
Inadequately armed and outnumbered, the Bhutanese fought gallantly at the Buxa Fort, Duars before falling to the might of a superior army.
A visit to the Buxa Fort in April, 2016 inspired this write.
 Oct 2016 Neha Rajan
Neha Vineesh
I fell
into the ocean of love.
I thought you would too.
But instead,
You left me there to drown.
Feeling alone, unwanted, unloved.
I tried swimming,
But how can I?
You took everything within me.
I'm trying to hold myself together,
But it's difficult.
I feel breathless,
Soulless,
Heartless.
I feel broken.
I feel empty.
I need you to restore this.
I need you to put back the broken pieces
And make me unbroken.
I need you to fix me.
I need you to make me feel alive again.
I need you to want me back.
I need you to jump into the ocean
And save me.
Cause baby, without you there is no life in me.
You meet thousands of people, they don't touch you. Then you meet one person and your life is changed forever.
 Oct 2016 Neha Rajan
Aditi Kumar
Go outside.
Because outside is where the beasts lay.
They'll run with you all the way,
In such a sprint that you never tire
Or lose your breath
Or shiver your legs
At all.

Outside is where the sharp angles rest.
Deep cuts in straight lines, red blood dripping like rain,
And stones that have been cracking for centuries but never broken.

The great outdoors, that's where the fairies live.
They'll love you like you never knew love before.
It's the raw lips that kiss the roughest,
The calloused hands that hold on the tightest.
The rock-kissed fingers, they're designed to never let go.

Soft lips bruise. Mountainous lips live on forever.

Supple skin burns. Hard-cut edges light the flame in the sunrise.

Well-rounded means spoiled. Raw spirits mean earning the spoils.
Nature is telling us that we are not built for comfortable lives. We belong with our brothers, the wolves. We need to light the flames in each other to fight the wind. We need to be brash.
 Oct 2016 Neha Rajan
Aditi Kumar
Of that cold spring day when our hands froze
Clutching cones of your favorite strawberry ice cream

Of the following warm summer day when my favorite
Chocolate ice cream coated our tongues

Of that day we escaped our classes
And found ourselves held captive
By the soft cherry ice
With nuts on top

Of bubblegum sonnets, of almond praline declarations of love
Of fig and honey serenades
With soft coffee angels singing in the back
And cookie cream cherubs whispering in our ears.

Of the best first taste.

Of the worst last lick.
I will never forget the person who taught me to see life beyond just Nutella ice cream; to explore all the flavors of the world.
 Oct 2016 Neha Rajan
Aditi Kumar
If I am ever lost,
Fear not, for I am either

Lurking in the shadows where the derelict live,
In a suit of fire so the cold and desperate flock toward me.

Or on the twilight streets,
My skirt made of the first twinkling stars swishing about my knees,
Bearing silent witness to the belligerent noise.

I may also be in the meadow outside town
Flaunting the crown of butterflies that the fairies made for me,
As I played with them for as long as the moon hung in the sky.

If I am there and you do not know,
Fear not
For I did not tell you
Because I would like to escape the straightjacket of my home.
Find the beautiful in the ordinary.
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