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Syed S M Tabish Mar 2014
Main Aur mere roommates
aksar Yeh Baatain Karte Hain
Ghar saaf hota to kaisa hota
Main kitchen saaf karta, tum bathrooom dhote
main hall saaf karta, tum balcony dekhte
Log is baat pe hairaan hote
aur us baat pe haste….

Main aur mere roommates,
aksar Yeh Baatain Karte Hain
Yeh hara bhara sink hai
ya bartanon ki jang chidi hui hai
Yeh colour full kitchen hai
ya masalon se holi kheli hai
Hai farsh ki nayi design
ya doodh, beer se dhuli hui hain

Yeh cellphone hai ya dhakkan,
sleeping bag ya kisika aanchal,
ye airfreshner ka naya flavour hai,
ya trash bag se ati badboo
Yeh pattiyon ki hai sarsarahut
ke heater phirse kharab hua hai
Yeh sonchta hain roommate kab se gum sum -
Ke jab ke usko bhi yeh khabar hai
Ke machar nahi hai, kaheen nahi hai
magar uska dil hai ke kah raha hai
machar yaheen hai, yaheen kaheen hai !

Toand ( pet ) ki ye haalat, meri bhi hai, uski bhi,
dil mein ek tasvir idhar bhi hai, udhar bhi
Karne ko bohot kuch hai magar kab kare hum
Kab tak yoon hi is tarah rahe hum
Dil kahta hai Safeway se koi vaccum cleaner la de
ye Carpet jo jine ko zoonz raha hai, fikwa de
Hum saaf rahe sakte hai, logon ko bata dain,
Haan hum roommates hai – roommates hai – roommates hai

Ab dil main yehi baaaat, idhar bhi hai udhar bhi..

Sab ko bata dain..
Lonelyness is the feeling of having a vaccum in my whole body and soul..
Karijinbba Jul 2021
(rddjpc-Asgbba)
~~~~
Some people miss their mark
they find His and Her God and Goddess looking straight in their eye writing sharing giving sighing,
smiling in their face, thus
awakened by true love divine
gift of the Universal heaven;
and yet, remain oblivious
to the treasure found without looking.
Both fail to relish cherish with sweet abandon the new love found
continuing praying to their imagined other God's for true love to arrive.

Unbelievably one or both
go back to dreamming and sleeping
living in a world of unreality.
Their dream never breathes nor lives in search of the love that swiftly
had already passed them by.

Ignoring their bird of love it
flew away, searching for faithful
embracing lovers.
Surely the gods and goddess grant blessings to those who embrace love
in the eye of the beloved.
The just Gods simply
grant them wisdom grace.
A goddess a God in our embrace
is better then any other
out there in the cosmic
vaccum space time continuum
of cruel Mr time! Sigh.
~~~~~~~~~
By Karijinbba
07/2021
Live in present time honor your dieties but do not fail to ignore honor cherish the love true found or forever regret
the gifts the Gods sent you and you never grasped.
Anonymous Sep 2012
Lying on the bed
I think of what to write...
....words don't flow out
of my pen
my mind is clogged
vaccum surrounds me
I've ****** all the noise
into my self.
It's waiting to explode.
I realise I am too conscious
of myself,
I realise I am trying to pretend.
My pen leaks out
a random flow of ink
shaped in words
I strike them out
they don't manifest my feelings.
I don't want farce to appeal
to the eye,
I want honesty to touch
the heart.
I am waiting
for my words
to strike a chord
with the strings of my heart.
I am longing
for clarity
that will give my writing
a sense of purpose
and shorn it
of its randomness.

Lying on the bed
I think of what to write....
....my mind is a clean slate
I want to colour it
with thoughts
and feelings,
I want for it to
lose its barrenness
and be fertile
with imagination.
I want for it to
be bereft of fear
for it is,
the place
where revolutions were conceived
and philosophies were born;
the sole reason
for Man's greatness.
It boasts of coveted freedom,
which,
feared tyrants failed to ******,
it is a guiding light
to the often faltering humanity.
It has been
subject to manipulations,
deceiving history
into changing its course;
scripting moments
of momentous change,
all, of course,
owing their occurrences
to the enchanting influence
it wields over the body.

Lying on the bed
I think of what to write....
....my mind is deluged
with a rush of thoughts
flowing in and out,
a haze of colours
mesmerises me,
letters, words
dance before my eyes,
songs play out in a loop,
a multitude of
smudgy-outlined faces
gazes at me....
....And I realise
with an epiphany,
It is this very train of thoughts
I shall elaborate on!
Lying on the bed
I think I know what to write on.
Word farer  Jun 2020
KISS...💏
Word farer Jun 2020
Closing the hurting eyes
Forgetting all the fights and byes
Standing soo close to each other
Mesmerised in that situation heart decided not to bother
Leaning against the wall
With a heartclutch and a great fall
Wrapping each other in their blanket of love
Leaving behind all the other stuff and a months bluff
Engrossed sooo much in each touch
Wanting more and more was a wish such
Grabbing the waist tight with no air to enter
There was a vacuum of their breath in centre
Playing with her entangled hairs that lay on shoulder
All these evocation was sure to be preserved in their hearts folder
Girl placed her arms around his neck without any regret
Which was found to be the best addiction than any smoking cigarette
Slowly and gradually they touched each others lips
Not leaving any chance to skip
Their heart's beating sound was heard amidst their vaccum
They had created their own world with affection and warmth as whirling perfume
Their kiss after kiss grew deep and passionate
Both were stuck to each other just as a magnet
Wet lips, tired eyes and messy hairs
Were the symbol that love was in the air
And there is no such satisfaction anywhere
                                _Lost
Patricia Drake  Mar 2013
Circus
Patricia Drake Mar 2013
like a vaccum chamber
the suffocating calm
cancer
reveals layers
of masqued chaos
covered in clean canvas
sheets
and under it
the cameleon creeps
survives
through the cracks
and creased papers
ex-communications
conclusions
with no closure
a circus
with nothing but clowns
Mahesh Hegde Jan 2014
Its late at night,
The most Awaiting dream comes to life,
My Heart in the space now wanders,
To feel the creator's wonders,
About the rays of light it ponders,
Origin of the universe it envies,
Treading is it to the planet of rubies,
Our GREAT GRANDFATHER, THE BIG BANG, has a highest record of Babies.
Meteros paas by around,
But they cannot hit me,
I am like a shadow here,
Everything passes through me as If I am smoke.
Hey I think I see a rainbow here,
Its a bit different in shape,
Long and wide straight stripes covering a million kilometers of the same seven colors.
I travel through black holes,
Saying, "Hey Mr. Black, You can destroy physical bodies, Try to challange this pure soul,
I have come up with some shortcuts here too, LOL,
How peaceful here the life is,
No rise and No fall,
I look at the nebula,
like, would look, billions of earth's clouds,
but painted in different colors,
The vaccum out here is so hypnotic,
A normal human would become psychotic,
Gravity here in empty pulls uniformly all over my body,
But its gentle while the pull preventing to rip me to pieces,
And then theres a road of white light which leads beyond,
But white is leading to black, this feeling's so sound.
Many small planets are arranged around it to give a bridge like effect,
Does this bridge lead to the ultimate energy,
The ultimate truth as the mortals of the earth say..
I take a step forward to commence the final journey after plenty,
Conjuring all the memories of my life to feel eternity.
As I reach the end in front of me is a small particle placed on a slab,
And the strongest of microscope above it to make it visible.
I turn around to look far away the glistening galaxies
Confined in an arrangement like nerves of a brain,
I give a smile to all my beloved,
And then touch the microsope,
It ****** me in,
And I got shooted from its otherside,
To be absorbed by particle and never to seperate.
"Hey Moksha, Wassup..?"
Connor Jul 2015
The giants tongue swallows
Suns
/Constellations constant
down the knowledge throat
And Owl perched over velvet
Hollering at the neighborhood
Darklight nightlight window
Still life sillhouettes radiant behind
Metropolitan curtain series bleeding
NEON-

The OWL is receiving words
Back/forth the communal conversation
vibrating thru
tenements and telephone wires.
HootHOOT Italian Voicemail two in the morning
Beep tip & ZAP>>by doorway,
H o ot Hoo t deranged traffic
Menagerie metallic dance of silvery brass
windshield reflection/
Other owl beating wings on the wheel
to Debussy
While lakes become public fountains
and Oceans become wars.

Giants breath ***** up                        atmosphere,
Javelin to eyes
Everything                     ...                      escaping us
“THE INEVITABLE BLINDNESS OF MORNING”
Heavy matter on the soul/
Doomly sandman tossing flowers
down the aisle
during wedding for imaginations
weeping tears of JOY
!AT LONG LAST!
The apocalypse is no longer Faeries
and pamphlets
on the
                Elephants
                          doorstep.

Giants showering with hot water
And
Owls sweating/
Damp feathered
in front of the machinery at that heatwave
boiler room backyard.
The animals have been terrified of existing this way
(owned by our products)
Before commercials
And Cold War nuclear paranoia broadcast in
Ohio (Columbiana County)
                                                         ­                  Owls be dreamin' fevers!
(Dreamin' the commonly non understood methods of which the TV sets turn on, anyways)

Noah's Ark continental
engulfed by
                     the galaxy
and comets
                    --------JUST--------
                 ­    ---MISSING--
          -THE-
[[EARTH]]
(Boy, that one was close!)
The spaceship enthusiasts
with superspyglass
technology pointed at infinity
telling us that September
will be the END OF THINGS AS WE KNOW THEM
the Owls are sleeping in their nests
ticktocking
in whispers



......the answers
to the darkest parts of

<the man-woman-brain
the human-brain
the dumbo-brain
and goof-brain>

"Oceantide inward-
taking everything, even the gold"

Letting loose
giant discovery ******
to           M O O N
and         P L U TO
snapping picturephotographs
“Ooooooh!”
“Aaaaah!”
Trashing rockets/
projectiles capable of decimating
the
CORE
of
the
P.L.A.N.E.T
hundreds of times over
(Jesus Christ!!)
the owls are all too aware
of that
wacky-brain
primate deficiency
and packing their suitcases
to pocket realities
hidden beneath
                                                TREETRUNK­S

The giants
(us)
the blackhole of population
so deep so dark so quiet
nobody can see it coming
(a-million-lightyears-away-i-swear-it)



DON'T FORGET THAT
DOGS ARE AFRAID OF VACCUM CLEANERS
AND I THINK THEY'RE ON TO SOMETHING......
Pen Lux Sep 2010
I wouldn't mind kissing your chapped lips
or touching elbows late at night.

We could spin the world away
and sing about the lipless.

I'd vaccum my room to get rid of the smell
and then we could lay there until our thoughts settle,
or I could make you tea, promising not to spit in the cup.
I don't know if you like sugar or not,
but I do, so I'll put it in anyway.

I know you don't like apples,
oranges, babies, hairy legs,
stair cases, dark tunnels,
neon colors, highlighted hair,
leftovers, or gapped teeth.

I know you like milk,
dark hair, movies (almost any),
games, poetry, dancing,
singing, my hands (touching yours),
and eye contact.

I only have 6 dollars,
3 pills,  4 cigarettes,
5 fingers (on each hand),
2 eyes, and 1 interest.
Sjr1000 Jan 2014
You keep saying
You are coming home
I wonder when you are
Will it take the
Raging wind and
Snow for you to
Roll on.

You keep calling every
Hour to say you are
On your way right now
Dinner has been made
Getting colder by the
Hour.

What started off as love
Dissolving into sour
You are calling every
Hour saying you will
Be home right now.

You say you are coming
Home
I wonder when you
Are
Will it take some
Form of desperation for
You to roll on.

The wind outside is
A vaccum blowing
****** air from high
To low
Don't I know.

You call every
Hour to say you
You are on your way.

Olive is barking
At the wind
I am a child throwing
Sand at the ocean.

I am as helpless
As that wind outside
Blowing.
You say you are
Coming home
I wonder
When you are...
*thanks Tom Petty...
I think of you every day
you are my mind my dreams;
you are an addiction.
I feed my need with your image
I think of you,
you.

I hate you,
so wonderfully I do;
there once was a heart
you took it
there once was a vaccum
it was filled.

Hatred, is that what it is?
Similar to love,
yet unmistakably opposite of the spectrum;
love keeps you awake
pains your heart
clouds your judgment
causes you to laugh,
to cry,
to enter a trance of passion.
Does not hatred do this?
Is not hatred a passion;
a consuming inspiring beauty?
It is.

I hate you,
no love just hate.
It is indeed lovely
it is indeed gorgeous;
Take a look
look inside;
look into the darkness.
What is the color of love?
I would like to express the opposite,
but never mind the thought
I want you to concentrate,
focus,
look please
see it?
The contempt,
the anger and frustration
the sadness and sighs.

Yes,
yes you do.
Goodbye and hello.
By the way,
I hate you.
Waverly  Nov 2011
The astronomer.
Waverly Nov 2011
The girl
with two long braids
hanging from her temples
like droopy
antennae,
looked up at the sky.

A foggy halo
circled the moon
in a snowy paste
and
a tiny sister
pushed itself
redly
outward.

Out of the halo.

Out of the white shadow
of
the pearl.

The haze was so thick
that the girl
had to squint
to make sure
the tiny red dot
was there.

But it was there.

There
licking at the halo.

Eating it.

Eating its way out.

The black telescope
shined.

She laid her eye
on the viewfinder.

She felt suction
and the momentum of her eye
zooming
out to the vaccum.

She will tell the tale
of
the stars
and
the war-gods
full of blood.

— The End —