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 Mar 2015 sajjad ali
Traveler
I shed a tear
When Judas died
It buried my heart in grief
I had fallen in love
With an ancient lie
And drowned in beliefs

Inconsistencies
Yet devoted
I followed your deity
With selfish motives

In times of trouble
I pledged my soul
Oh how it made
So much sense
So many years ago

The distortion fades
As I bleed the light away
What is this strangeness
That my heart just can't convey

So many galaxies
I wonder where is home
So many life times
Still I feel alone...
Traveler Tim
Re To 06-17
This roof over our heads can't make us a family.
a ten word story
Dear Johnny was a crazy guy
we used to have threesomes
with all his ***** girlfriends

We used to go clubbing nearly every night
we had all the drugs inside us we'd need
when out there we were like march hares on speed

We would fall into clubs
you know outers
like tripping *****
dance on the dance floor
like spasticated fools

Dancing crazy with the crazies
kicking out the beats
moving our leather clad feet

We had some cool times
making love and not war
yet now my friend is dead
and we don't do that anymore
I miss my dear mad march hare


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
You found God in your heart
and met me less than a month later.

There are no coincidences.
He was ready when they came to take him
stepped out to the day as in a dream
and with a face unmourningly serene
entered the waiting palanquin!

How quickly passed his seventy years
he felt having spent not a year even
now on a ride on the bearers’ shoulders
his lips moved in prayer to heaven!

His heart was not weighed with grief
but a resignation deep and tranquil
there comes a day one has to leave
preordained by kind God’s will!

That way he had wanted it to be
when death came to knock on the door
would hear him say I am ready
won’t keep you waiting a moment more.


Through the hush when rang last bell
and to the wind his breath was free
echoed through the mourners’ wail
the untamed refrain *I am ready.
Maharaja Nandakumar was hanged on false charges by Warren Hastings. It was a ****** and not execution of justice. Hastings was later impeached by the British Parliament for this crime.
This poem is an adaptation from the eye witness account of Nandakumar’s last moments before his execution on August 5, 1775, recorded by Alexander Macrabie, the then Sheriff of Calcutta.
Nandakumar remained composed through the ordeal up to the gallows.
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