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I say again
That from my perspective
When I Die
The whole World will cease to Exist
Including You.
And it will be the same for you
When you go too.

So we are Lucky now
Having the Internet
To speed our Education,
Bringing knowledge and experience to us
As our mobility declines.

It’s as though Someone has catered for our needs,
Ensuring we Learn as much as we can
Before we go.

Lucky too we are to have our radio and TV.
And some of us are lucky enough
To live in relative Safety.

Some day, if we are lucky, we might even learn
What all this Learning’s for.
Someone may even let us know.

Paul Butters
Early this morning I had a bizarre, vivid, scary dream. When I woke, poetic thoughts appeared...
 Nov 2016 Rachna Beegun
Àŧùl
All I asked from her was patience,
Perhaps I expected too much,
She never actually came back.
Neither let me tame time back,
Nor she let herself come back.
And all of it just seems so false,
Reconnecting with her was never done.
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1110082/just-a-reminder/

I failed to assert that each person who befriends me turns fake.

She was no exception and I do not blame her.

May she be fine given her innocence veiled by the false desire to own the world.

HP Poem #1241
©Atul Kaushal
 Nov 2016 Rachna Beegun
Àŧùl
She had come like a cool breeze,
But left me longing with such ease.
She held a secret inside her heart,
But left me wondering about herself.

She was gorgeous per se with unfaithful eyes,
Unfaithful eyes.
She was gorgeous per se with unfaithful eyes,
Left saving her fringes from my probing eyes.
She had come like a cool breeze,
But left me longing with such ease.

At least tell me this much for my heartbeats,
Heartbeats.
At least tell me this much for my heartbeats,
Who she was that left after a demo of her love.
She had come like a cool breeze,
But left me longing with such ease.
A retro Bollywood song sung by the greatest Indian Rafi Sahab inspired this poem.

HP Poem #1243
©Atul Kaushal
 Nov 2016 Rachna Beegun
Àŧùl
And when I do you will fall lower,
Lower than where you already were.

You will get strange sorts of fever,
Will blight you a higher temperature.

Be ****** you will for torturing me,
And you won't die but live to see me rise.

You isolated me from the world over,
Even my parents thought I was wrong.

But now they understand how I was wrong,
Because I was wrong in choosing you as my friend.

With a high dengue fever you already have been down,
Now with another fear away you will just be blown.

If I suffer because of you then rest assured,
Because you will not either be spared.

Time calls you to mend your ways soon,
Or nobody will know why you get a swoon.
For a person in my batch at my M.Tech college NDRI who just cut me off from the entire class by petty pointless politics.

HP Poem #1244
©Atul Kaushal
My words and my poems
Are no more than explanations
And embellishments
My means of expression
For my life is my "art"
It's what I am and what I write
It's why I need to write
To make sense of the things
I've seen and done
And there are times when
I think I've done far too much
Then, in deep contemplation
I realise I could have done more
And that kind of inner debate
And discussion with myself
Are a large part of my life
Which becomes my version
Of something like "art"

                                         By Phil Roberts
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