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"How did I know that someday—at college, in Europe, somewhere, anywhere—the bell jar, with its stifling distortions, wouldn’t descend again?"
in the garden of Eden
sundial, of stone and bronze, wasting, weathered green, measurer of time in years; doomed to erode; and YET, the iris comes but for days, yet …
A painter, singer, & poet manqué. "No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world. We don't read and write poetries …
Poems
Àŧùl Nov 2019
Good Things Take Time
Àŧùl
Nov 2019
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
Rallying in hordes of horses,
Assassins from malsI pillaged us,
Maraud they did our temples.
Merely by converting out from Đhärm,
And reading the Satanic Verses,
Never you do forget your roots,
Demolish the original temple they did,
India is Bhāräŧ and will always be,
Right now the Hïnđū people celebrate.
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
Rallying in hordes of horses,
Assassins from malsI pillaged us,
Maraud they did our temples.
Merely by converting out from Đhärm,
And reading the Satanic Verses,
Never you do forget your roots,
Demolish the original temple they did,
India is Bhāräŧ and will always be,
Right now the Hïnđū people celebrate.
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
My HP Poem #1806
©Atul Kaushal
©Atul Kaushal