Members
M/Nigeria
A Naturopathic Physician,Poet, Researcher,Lecturer,Human rights activist,Crisis Councillor, Humanitarian, Author of A Guide to Health(Natural Medicine), Whisperings from within:Poems by Emeka Mokeme,Personal Glimpses,and a Poetry Therapist.
23/F/los Angeles
iHit That Shit & Nodd iT 🖤
with the aid of smoke, all clear, and this absurdity, strikes me as normal...
Poems
Shivam Porwal Dec 2017
Faisla
Shivam Porwal
Dec 2017
Zindagi me kai ese moke aaenge jab tum apne apko 1 ajib kashmo kash me paoge,
Kai viparit paristhityo ka dar tumhe sataega,
Kya galat hai kya sahi tumhe kuch smjh nahi aaega,
Ye kuch uljhne hai jo har kisi ki Zindagi me alg alg samay pr aati hai
Jo ki us waqt pr bhut soch smjhkr kuch faislo se suljhai jati hai
Par kya wo faisle lena itna aasan hota hai?
Kyu ki wo 1 faisla shyd puri zindagi ko bdl skta hai
Har faisle me Kuch panne ki tammana, to kuch khone ka dar to hoga
Par un sab raaho me se kisi 1 ko tumhe chunna hoga,
Us raah ko chunne ke liye tum Hazaro logo se ray mashwara karte **
Kai baar apne dil ki chod, gairo ki baat par bh yakin karte **
Par smjho is baat ko, ki Hazaro se sunkr bhi tumhara dil kis chiz ko chahta hai
Dhundho, Kya hai wo esa jisko tumhara man puri mehnat, lagan aur jazbato k sath karna chahta hai.
Kyu ki Sahi to sab kuch hai is duniya me
Par tumhare liye kya sahi hai ye tumhi jaan skte **
Apne andar ki kabiliyat ko pehchankar, Mehnat kar
apne sapno ko haqueeqat bana skte ** !!
Kai viparit paristhityo ka dar tumhe sataega,
Kya galat hai kya sahi tumhe kuch smjh nahi aaega,
Ye kuch uljhne hai jo har kisi ki Zindagi me alg alg samay pr aati hai
Jo ki us waqt pr bhut soch smjhkr kuch faislo se suljhai jati hai
Par kya wo faisle lena itna aasan hota hai?
Kyu ki wo 1 faisla shyd puri zindagi ko bdl skta hai
Har faisle me Kuch panne ki tammana, to kuch khone ka dar to hoga
Par un sab raaho me se kisi 1 ko tumhe chunna hoga,
Us raah ko chunne ke liye tum Hazaro logo se ray mashwara karte **
Kai baar apne dil ki chod, gairo ki baat par bh yakin karte **
Par smjho is baat ko, ki Hazaro se sunkr bhi tumhara dil kis chiz ko chahta hai
Dhundho, Kya hai wo esa jisko tumhara man puri mehnat, lagan aur jazbato k sath karna chahta hai.
Kyu ki Sahi to sab kuch hai is duniya me
Par tumhare liye kya sahi hai ye tumhi jaan skte **
Apne andar ki kabiliyat ko pehchankar, Mehnat kar
apne sapno ko haqueeqat bana skte ** !!
An inspirational poem, which teaches how to take the decision in life.
Daniel Magner May 2013
Moke
Daniel Magner
May 2013
That hideous
brownish
smoke.
Oh it makes me
choke to think
of it sinking
into your lungs
brownish
smoke.
Oh it makes me
choke to think
of it sinking
into your lungs
© Daniel Magner 2013
Rambus Dec 2016
The Lecher
Rambus
Dec 2016
Never he was an honest man
Who prides himself
On wanton expeditions
In a field of truth
He lies, entangled in conceit
To win that which he desires –
It is only but a game.
Mind not his mental means, nor manner –
Be he sane or psychopath –
But the strategy by which he plays:
Cheat, deceive, manipulate,
Overcome, and conquer your carnal estate.
Twisted tales, spun with golden thread
Crafted by careful practice and confidence
The master of charisma in his own head
Is no Eros, in any sense – Erosive, yes –
He is only what you want but for a brief moment
Be suspicious and expect this ever-real Narcissus.
A lecher he is
A Greek God in wish –
Nay, he only lives in the fantastic,
Though he roams about us
In a surreal bubble,
Where love comes to pass,
He is ever-so subtle
He markets himself as a Rembrandt,
Although more a moke* than baroque,
Something which he could never see
Staring into his reflection so blindly.
At a cost, worth more than his fee,
This cheap knockoff of Sal Dali,
Would sell you his love
For a buck forty-three.
Beware the lecher.
Who prides himself
On wanton expeditions
In a field of truth
He lies, entangled in conceit
To win that which he desires –
It is only but a game.
Mind not his mental means, nor manner –
Be he sane or psychopath –
But the strategy by which he plays:
Cheat, deceive, manipulate,
Overcome, and conquer your carnal estate.
Twisted tales, spun with golden thread
Crafted by careful practice and confidence
The master of charisma in his own head
Is no Eros, in any sense – Erosive, yes –
He is only what you want but for a brief moment
Be suspicious and expect this ever-real Narcissus.
A lecher he is
A Greek God in wish –
Nay, he only lives in the fantastic,
Though he roams about us
In a surreal bubble,
Where love comes to pass,
He is ever-so subtle
He markets himself as a Rembrandt,
Although more a moke* than baroque,
Something which he could never see
Staring into his reflection so blindly.
At a cost, worth more than his fee,
This cheap knockoff of Sal Dali,
Would sell you his love
For a buck forty-three.
Beware the lecher.
*Moke is a British/Australian slang term for donkey or *******; a fool, representing the folly of man.