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 Apr 2016 Srijita Gupta
amrutha
Don't you see?
Beyond this working and moving
a star trembles in the dark
You speak to me
and all I seem to see
is the grace with which your voice
mixes with the breeze.
Measurement I do not understand
Dimension I am
Language suffocates me
I am the air that chokes my throat.


Nothing is as graceless as a poet.
My body was only 8 years old
I still remember the words that were told.
Families are forever,
never say never.
My body was 16 years old
the more you believe the more they scold.
This life we must endeavor
don't forget the goal is forever.

"The world was made by him, and in him was the life of men and the light of men."
She walks before me, sliding her eyelashes in a dancing mood, the wind being fortunate enough to carry her strands of long black hair, the light being fortunate enough to reflect on her soft skin. She talks to me and  rush of adrenaline wakes the wave of emotions in me. Dear, do you really know that I love you? Or you wish to become a silent spectator enjoying my madly acts of love? Where did all the romantic lines I that by-heartened  flew away? Where did all that courage I mustered went to hide? That please be with me. Please don't run away from me. That I only want to be with you. That I love you
A note of my best Friends life. After we all have gone through this
 Apr 2016 Srijita Gupta
Phoenix
How do you become a poet?

When I first started
A poet
Was someone reading
Lines about peace
And the end of war
In a dimly lit cafe

But to be a poet
There is no expectation
On who you're supposed to be

You could be the kid
Who wears all black and never speaks
You could be the cheerleader
Who never stops speaking
You could be the star quarterback
Or the quiet artist

To be a poet
You must have a soul
You must be willing to write
About what's deep inside

To be a poet
You musn't be afraid
Of what people might say
When you put your heart on the sleeve

To be a poet
You don't have to expose it all
But you must share a little
Because I'm guaranteed
Someone else is feeling it too

No one wants to read the generic
It's been said
So many times
And in so many ways

So be creative
Be out there
Be spontaneous
Write your heart and soul

Poets are artists
Expressing their feelings
Through words
Showing their soul
To the world
When no one close
Can hear them

Sometimes
Being an artist
Of any kind
Is hard

Sometimes
You don't write for awhile
But that's okay
One day
Inspiration will hit you
And it will be beautiful

I like to think
That I'm a true poet
I write about my hurt
My love
My friends and family

I write about what I see around me
I write about what I feel
What I think
I write about what I hide

Does this make me a true poet?
I'm not sure
I suppose that's not for me to decide

But what I see
When I read other poems
Is a group of people
Putting aside differences

To show their pain
To vent
To show their love
To express what's inside

And I think
It's truly beautiful

I think we are all *true poets
I wake up each day
With sadness in my eyes
Sun peeking through the curtains
It’s my time to rise

Getting out of bed is as much as I can do
Tears flowing down my cheek over losing you

I keep going on
With a smile on my face
Wanting no part of this human race

Without you in my world
There is no reason to live
Besides grief and depression
I have nothing to give
frail light shines in this
midnight place
a deep feeling of peace clings to the air
a resting of sorrows
an end of troubled journeys
a place of forgetting

the dove comes to sing here
and the song is of tomorrows never changing
is of sleep that devours all the bad dreams

grey this haven
like pearly dawn crept near
that lonesome journey taken
parted from all ever known
to walk neath these beautiful trees
to walk this paradise of quiet passages
dream now your fondest dreams
dream now of loves tenderest kiss
the dove has come to sing you to your slumbering beauty
she waits there for you
at the crossroads of the lonesome journey
 Apr 2015 Srijita Gupta
CC
Real
 Apr 2015 Srijita Gupta
CC
Here's something that I want you to have
It's a piece of my heart
A little bit of me
Maybe we can work on it
If you take it carefully

A little bit of love
Could really help
My world just fell apart
And I've been stalling on somebody to love

So take this broken piece
And we can work on it
I could give you all of me
But we can create something special
With just this bit
I have the rest of the chipped broken pieces
And slowly we can fix the rest

You and I can create a place to belong
Where I can open up my mind
If I make you feel loved
Please don't neglect it
My smile is only because of yours

All we have is just a part of me and you
Let's hope we never finish
Painting the living room

You've stoked a flame that will never fail
It's a warmth that I will fondly feel
I hope you and I will become something real
A long shot of the stretch
where waves hug the shore
then freeze as a moment’s sketch
to never roar anymore!

Her footprints on the sandy turf
the winds would blow away
her trace of hunt from sparkly surf
for dead shells on the bay!

In her eyes glows red crab lust
her wings are ached for soar
so long the now not turns to dust
just once must love her more!

Fleeting time leaves one long shot
of cloud and dead trunk beach
carved with dream etched in thought
but never close to reach
!
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