Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Loved have I you more than me
If you get it,o get it priya
My world has separated me
If you see,o see priya!
On every road
Every crossing
Your memories
Stop me
Everywhere
Is your touch
Loved have I you more than me
If you get it,o get it priya

I was alone a lonely bird
You extended your hand
Called and brought me
O you taught me
Such giving
O howsoever I try
Can't forget you,can't ,O priya!

O my mind is today
So unstable
Without you
Am I empty
O in my chest
Smoke unknown
Fills up!
Loved have I you more than me
If you get it,o get it priya
O the path doesn't end
The feet move on
I feel really
I have lost
The address
O the night doesn't end
Dreams don't come
O I doesn't know
How many moons
Of tears
O yesterday
Was my love
Today it
Feels so far
O the touch
Of memories
Unending !
Loved have I you more than me
If you get it,o get it priya!
Priya is related to Indic languages(some).
Find out if you love them!
Tujhe chhoone par hai lagta
Tu jalti jwala re!
Tujhe niharne par lagta
Tu chaand ka tukda re!
Aisa Kya jadoo Kiya
Aisa Kya jadoo Kiya
Ore Priya re!
Tere sang Tere sang ishq hua re!
Bana Dene jaisa lagti ** tum
Ek chitra!
Are munh tumhara ek
Paan ka patta
Bana Dee gayi lagti ** tum
Ek moorti!
Sach jaisi
Konark ki kala kirti
Tujhe padhne se lagti hai tu
Sach mein  ek kahani re
Tujhe gaane see lagta
Tu ek geet re!
Aisa Kya jadoo Kiya tune
Aisa Kya jadoo Kiya toone
Ore Priya re!
**** bhar Teri
Rajnigandha ki khushboo
Teri chaal mein
Raj hansini ka chhand!
Barasne jaisa pyar tumhara
Madhu ki varsha!
Sabhi or hoti hai
Bas teri hi charcha
Tujhe tolne par
Tu lagti
Ek phool re!
Tujhe dhaalne par lagti
Tu kuchh rang re!
Aisa Kya jadoo Kiya
Aisa Kya jadoo Kiya toone
Ore Priya re!

Tere sang Tere sang ishq hua re!
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
daj, do wynagrodzenia: reszty.
daj: to niby: siebie;
a... dam... dam...
ale pierw: powiem:             to!
(ich) nicht werden
                  geben (ihr) das nacht!
first... i'll punch myself
hard enough to give myself
a plum-eye: ******* pacifists...
and then?
    then i'll strap a trouser belt
to protect my knuckles...
and then... then...
                    then: we'll "talk":
who might find a translator
ready...
   god...
i'm gagging for a
knuckle exchange...
        almost... itching!
like i might await
a shaving... from a Turkish
barber... in Essex...
of all Danish palaces;
and why would i want to allow
consort with these women?
considering the fact that
the russian ones believe in trans-national
grievance taxation:
of someone... who hasn't...
actually died...
              you know what?
*******...
suffer...
       watch me wipe my ***
with a satanic smile
ennobled
by a coulrophobia...
excesses of vogue
                      atypical models...
how is it... that...
coulrophobia doesn't translate
in reverse?
  and what's up
with the black privilege of
jass music, akin to white mozart...
as...  
  sure as ****, the drum would be
the first, and only thing,
prior to the people learning
the ******* clarinet!

oh drop me your ****** ***
holocaust dead bomb
on a polish ***...
     i triple, quadruple dare you!
you *******... ivory coast
   centipede!
               i'm *******...
as watts: wild-eyed...
       unstrap me from this
"unreality" of conversation...
then undo the internet banking...
and the rest of it...

             not adam watts!
    glitter & doom....
who?      tom waits...
oh **** me... blue valentine?
if that's not a **** with me
album... what is?
                 live circus?
        
do i look like a ******* ****-
(see the hyphen?
it's a prefix... the english are
lazy sometimes: couldn't,
i.e. could not,
remnants of shakespearean
english...

       i'll always cite macbeth...

  time, thou anticipat'st my dread
exploits: the flighty purpose never
is o'eertook, unless the deed go with it.
from this moment, the very firstlings
of my heart shall be
  the very firstlings of my heart.
   and even now, to crown my thoughts
with acts, be it thought and done.


it's hardly a racial slur, ergo...
why so ******* sensitive akin to a french
footballer or a ballerina?
   ****- (hyphen! hyphen!) ergo a prefix...
as already mention:
no, no...
   it's not: no iraqi ever called me a pa-ki
      (pákí)... yeah...
and you never called an afghanistani an
afghan, ever, no?
   pure camaraderie in that part of
the world... all the way... yeah yeah... yeah...
-stani (suffix) is sometimes missing
because... the english like to shorten words...
e.g. why is daniel: dan,
why is matthew: matt?
  why is muhammad: mo (farrah)?
                                    ******* pansies...
police your circumcised penises fiddling
english teenager girl, first,
come after my vocab. justifications: after;
savvy?

or a gypsy?
   by now...
     i'm looking like any
traveler...
and the world...
       forever resembled
a world,
  in the confines of
      a claustrophobia...

but... if there's a bigger concern for
a world...
  and a freedom...
i want a bare knuckle fight...
a black eye...
namely...
you bring  BOXING GLOVE...
and i'll bring...
     a LEATHER BELT...
wrapped around my knuckles,
and the wrist...
    like i might care to give
a second attempt to smile...

ah... the men... who care
about minding, if not in the least,
keeping women...
      bye bye, bye bye...
       and i've allowed myself
to know my grandfather...
as i did the slap in the face...
and...
the key question:
in the unfathomability of counting
the 32 / 4 ratio...
alas... one fist... one smile...

and countless... dentistry encounters...
because?
   because the rest?
the cultural artifacts of a today?
  lost to h'americana...
            as i might have wished...
for my prior genes
to make an autobiography
in **** germany...
  
   what?
  
      well... obviously: the oops.

no, for the crescendo...
you know...
           i'm getting this funny vibe...
gott ist tot... it's not really spectacular...
nietzsche really believed in eternity,
to the point where he pointed:
what does science offer, only old age...
what does religion provide? eternity...
oh nietzsche was big on eternity...
   gott ist tot is as unspectular as:
is it: how to do you pronounce x,
or is it: how do you pronunciate y?
debate:
              everyone says around here
the former... since no one wants to be a *****...
pro-nun-ci-ate (pro-nun-cíate)...
   might as well replenish the vocab. bank
and replace the word with:
how do you elocute z? / recite)....

gott ist tot / gott ist tod...
    "same ****, different cover"...
you know why i believe in god?
    not the christian reference points...
salvation blah blah, saviour and hide & seek blah blah...
n'ah... where would i derive all my vocab.
hunger if not from him?
   some men derive their vocab. from
women or gambling...
            i am not in the position of their
luxury... so god it is...

            primarily though?
               god is metaphysics...
             ergo? his judgement is not clouded
by metaphysical questioning...
it's impossible to receive a metaphysical
answer from a metaphysical question
when engaging with a metaphysical
ontological paraphrase of one's own search
for meaning in this mortal frame...

oh sure sure, my belief in god is as juvenille
as anyone else's belief in humanity's
clarity when it comes to jurisprudence
and its application...
    i've experience "jurisprudence" once...
drive-by phone theft...
me and three fwends...
   i catch the number plate...
i tell one of my fwends to note it down,
police station, report, culprit found,
a sit in at a barkingside police station
looking at mug images,
spot the ****** (it was dark when the mugging
took place, photographic memory, **** happens)...
a court session, australia is playing england
at the ashes (****, i missed it)...
in court the defence lawyer shows me
another picture of the culprit...
back then photogrpahs had dates
attached to them...
the photograph? over 4 years old...
i tell him: but this photograph is 4 years old!
how can i identify if this is the same
person: i, myself, will probably
don a beard in four years time!
      a simple slip-up...
        now that i have a beard:
it's so much more fun than growing your
hair long... i hated the nickname
chewbacca back in high school when i was
growing mine for a french braid...
i walk out of the court,
come to terms with the detective...
and i see the same hunger in him as i see in me...
will justice be served?
highly unlikely... since the victim
didn't recognize the *** in the mug-shots...
justice was probably not served...

   and this is how god plays into all of this,
hell or heaven, blah blah...
man created the figure of domina Iustitia
as blind... god created death to be blind...
justice was never supposed to be blind,
death was: the unfortunate deaths
of teenagers in car accidents,
among all the other freak accidents...

clouded with so many metaphysical questions
i don't appreciate man's ability to adhere
to jurisprudence without being
subjectively contaminated...
i have more belief in an "imaginary"
god than belief that strains me to belief
in man's sense of justice...
          the nuremberg trials are a rare exception...
but only when the culprits are
unabashed and fathomable by a collective
sense of pride... a blidness...
i believe in god, because i'd love to experience
the judgement of a post scriptum of
metaphysics...
  personally? i have been wronged...
heavily...
            i will not name names....
i know when and how i was wronged,
and by whom...
                2007... Canterbury...
      i won't name names: i'm not a rat...
man is too clouded with metaphysical questions
to begin with, god isn't,
he's a metaphysical ontology "bias"...
which is why, he is primarily a jurisprudent
answer...
   i'd love to experience divine jurisprudence,
hell or heaven are not of my concern...
and i don't imply divine jurisprudence
associated with the polytheistic take of
jurisprudence via a solipsistic mechanism
of a minor god and the person in question
without the hurt party...
in monotheism the god is solipsism personified...
these days: also the personna non grata...
so no... gott ist nicht tot...
            he's a personna non grata...
i just don't appreciate the human *******
of law, law governance...
   come on, in england you can receive
an a.s.b.o.s. for your cockerel being too loud
in the morning, your dog barking...
           would you trust man with
jurisprudence?
  a woman was cleared of the ******
of her husband
       when she hammered his head into a pancake:
over an abusive relationship...
police, weren't, "there"?!
sure sure... the hammer will do...
i believe in god without a sense of reward...
i just don't think man is capable of
passing justifiable laws...
no man could ever pass the eternal laws,
gravity... 100°C for the boiling of water...
i need a being  who has groundwork
in eternal laws, in unshakeable laws...
the ten commandments aren't:
you shall not...
   more... maybe, you shouldn't...
they are the most pristine jurisprudent
laws available... the: maybe you shouldn't,
eh, chappy?

       i just don't like playing the thesaurus game
on the more tight-knit game
of "passing" the wink-wink of Solomon's
judgement...
please, **** me please,
i'll eat 20 raw herrings in a cream sauce,
slurp 30 oysters,
eat 40 strawberries on a hangpverl
eat out about 50 harem virgins
like a castrato if you ask me, nicely,
**** camel cockey:
lucly i landed on a black gold slurp
with plenty of bangladeshi slaves:
******* of riyadh...
     what did muhammed tell you?
you camel jockeys / sand *******
have clearly forgotten...
******* arabs: short attention span...
you need to remind
the retards...
the dajjal would come from the east...
a palace of gardens...
well obviously the prophet wasn't
thinking about genghis khan...
            
  hmm barbarians...
vikings, arabs: yet so inclined to like poetics...
funny, that...
the civilized peoples banished
the poets...
            the ruling class and their cushioned
people: sacrosanct sycophants...
wankers, basically.

    the hajr? muhammad spoke of the dajjal
coming from the east,
and the east being a city of gardens...
where isn't riyadh and where is mecca?
isn't riyadh east of mecca?
was the dajjal to come from the outside
of islam, or from wtihin?
      last time i checked...
sh'ite islam isn't friendly to sunni islam...
if islam was the one true religion...
would have a shcism have occurred?
i don't think so...
   a persian would never bow before
an arab... that much os true...

oh i believe in god...
given how man practices jurisprudence...
is it some sort of, a, thesaurus game
i wasn't told about?
to me the human quest for jusctice is
a thesaurus game...
man is incapable to pass but one,
eternal, law...
he's great at nuanced laws...
laws allocated to sports...
i mean, **** me, cricket?
the best vocab. you'll ever pick up...

even god isn't as pertinent
in making the sort of music associated
with the limited alpha-to-beta
of A, B, C, D, E, F, and G...
wow! seven... seven?!
how many heads does the beast
of revelation have? oh... 7!

i'll stop tolerating islam, and start respecting it,
when it, acknowledges its presence
as a character study in the book of revelations...
then i'll just move on,
having made my point...

until that time comes...
    it's 600 years shy of becoming what
degenerate christianity has become,
oh and it's ripe...
it's gagging to implode!
600 years and wait for it to become
the next secular vasal conglomorate...

the warning muhammad gave
about "the best from the east"
was in point of question:
   a reference ti gneghis khan...
more like ibn saud:
  thst fat diabetic one eyed ogre...
and the legacy of decadence he left
behind...

saudi men with slavuc girlfriends,
buying up pink cushions and *******
chihuahuas...
**** after ****...
  you know the three slavic proverbs?
1. better a sparrow in your
hand, than a dove on your rooftop?
explanation?
better the small joys at-hand,
than impossible possibilities out of reach....
2. a drunk can spot east,
past mecca, whenever honing
the safety of his own bed... even at night...
not much of a proverb...
3. i don't care to rememeber...

once toleration comes into play,
i will, respect... just a waiting game...
i'm pretty sure no iranian will
bow down to a sunni camel jockey...
i like proud *******,
it implies: there are absolutes,
un-moveable goal posts...

                      if you are ever to bind yourself
in supporting a "side" outside a sports' dynamic,
always the outsider...
always the outsider... in this case?
the ****'ite islam brigade...
       the persians...
the sunnis can shove it...
   *****, bones, whatever....

                   ****'ite islam i can
fathom, even respect,
sunni islam i just tolerate...
  as much as iran takes claims for the
big satan in ref. to h'america...
well... if h'america supports the infantile
saudi arabia, who's to blame them?

you know that polonaise joke about
about the pacifism of jews in
2nd world world war poland?
the joke ran along the words:
weren't the jews shooting the nazis
using crooked elbows (rifles)?
they always seemed to miss them,
taunted into walking into gas chambers,
the ******* hobbits...

          what? some bolshevik Brooklynian
jewish rada is to spare me
                 the pay-up diffrential
telling me, i was wrong?

  as i said before: the nazis lamented
when the warsaw uprising happened...
no, st. paul's doesn't stand proud
because, because...
   even with the blitz...
                 the luftwaffe were told:
you drop a bomb on st. paul's: firing squad...
and when notre-dame de paris -
last time i checked...
   the nazis didn't luftwaffe the **** out
of paris... did they?!

                  the nazis weren't mongols;
no people so well versed in chanel in terms
of their military being so well
   suited & booted could ever make such a
                              architectural sacrilege...

what?! people under the silicon curtain
are gagging, begging even: for nazis!
can i be the first?!
i just want to please the hungry!
if not punk then moving swiftly into ska...
am i the first?
   siliziumvorhang...
well, **** me... from under the eisenvorhang...
what's with these neo-communist pseudos?

and the hebrew god?
a jealous god... so a god with the knowledge
of the existence of other gods...
why wouldn't a jealous god have
no knowledge of other ("imagianry") gods?
to be jealous of only one's own existence?!

3 / 1: that's the ratio....
that's the only ratio... 3 times i experienced
love at first sight:

when i fell in love at first sight...
malina, samantha, janina,
priya....

equal measure: isabella of grenoble...

in reverse:
magda, promis, ilona, kot (i forget her name,
7 years old, first kiss, you can be forgiven
to forget, she had two twin sisters
and she was the senior,
her fasther drove a distribution truck,
milk, i think)...

****, i actually mismanaged
that ratio...

i believe in "a" god...
since i find too much of human jurisprudence
to be riddle with the thesaurus...
i don't think man can pass
law, he can "suppose so"...
but he will never pass the sort of law,
made forbidden,
or absolutely allowed....
i don't believe in a god akin
to the sort of a pontous pilate god
where i'll always find myself
outside of punk evolving into ska...

         mind you...
i'd hate to be trapped within
the confines of an atheistic exclusion zone
of intellect,
      to be trapped in nothing is one
thing, but to be trapped inside
the confines of an atheist's "nothing"
is quiet another....
i don't like being a hamster inside
a cognitive wheel of another...
   god is the jurisprudence spirit,
man the metaphysical spirit...
and i would very much like to stand
in the light of divine law being passed
to finally feel my shadow...

kult: brooklyńska rada żydów...
  not familiar?
  i forgot punk a long time ago...
esp. when californians came up with their
version, ergo? ska...

i'm currently taping a film
about the silesian vampire...
how strange, that the prussians came
back into the ***** of the polonaise...

growing a beard is so much fun!
fiddle after fiddle: and no violin!
atheists bore me
as much as the theistic hags
who's only ambition are
the thrill associated with Sunday
h'america and cinema...
               i can imagine only one
heaven...
where i am blind and given
               a large library of music.
Renjith Prahlad Aug 2011
-----------
               -Renjith Prahlad (15 Aug 2011 : 3:00am )
              

Aakashamee..nee innu prashanthamaayirikkunnu..meghangal oralankaaramaayi ninte meniyil innu kanunnilla..athinartham innu pavizhangal podiyillennnalle..Appol, Vishaadamaano nee innennil ulavaakiya rasam..Ente ella rahasyangalumariyunna aakaashamee..nee ente priya suhruthu..Innoru divasam koodi alle enikku mazhathullikale sparshikkan pattu,mazhathullikalude nanvil kuliraan kazhiyoo..Garpham peri alayunna meghangale kshanikku..thulikalkku piravi nalkuvan aanjyaapikku..kaaranam mazhathullikalude gandhavum peri,mazhathullikalude sparshanathinte navaanubhavavum nenjiletti enikku pokanam..paavanamaaya pachappillatha aa lokathekku,pacha manushyarude naduvileekku,garphapaathrangal aruthumaatiya meghangal kondu niranja aakashame melkoorayaayi thangipidichirikkunna marubhoomiyilekku..arabinaatilekku..Naalathe sooryodayathinoppam ente vimanavum udikkum..Pakshe sooryaasthamanathinu manikkorukal munpu enniyaalum theeratha kathanakathakalude kathaanayakanmaarudeyum naayikamaarudeyum idayilekku mattoru kathanakathaye rachikkaan aa vimaanam asthamikkum

Oru perumazhakaalamaanu..irunda anthareekshavum shakthamaaya kaattum..Aakashatholam valarnnu pandhalichu nilkunna maavu kaatil aadi ulayunnu..Athe marathinte ettavum uyarnna kombil oroonjaal kettiyirikkunnu..Kurunnu kuttikale oonjaaliliruthi muthrunnavar aati rasippikkunnathu pole elam kattine oonjaliliruthi kodum kaatu aati kalippikkunnu. Muttathu vidarnnu nilkkunna pookalkkinnu daahamillathe urangaam..oro manthariyum mazhathullikalude thaalathmakamaaya sangeethathodu chuvaduvaykkunnu..muttathe pookkalkkoppam,marangalkkoppam,oonjaalinoppam oro mantharikkumoppam ivide oru veedunndu..veettil orammayum..Veedinte munvaathil thurannu aa amma purathekkirangi vidoorathayilekku nokki paranju..Avan varaan samayamaayallo..innaanu vimanam ennanallo kathilavanezhuthiyirunnathu..eppozhanaavo avan varaa..Mazhathullikalaal maranja vidoorathayileekku nokki avarirunnu.."nee eppol vannalum ennu vannalum ninakku ettavumishtamulla palahaarangalum undaaki ee amma ninakkai kathirikkunnathu nee kanunnille unni..nee ethra valarnnittundenkilum..ethra muthrunnittundenkilum nee poyappol ivide kettiyirunna oonjalippozhum ninne aatirasippukkuvaanaayi kaathirikkunnathu nee ariyunnille entunnii..pathinnaaraam vayassil poyathalle neeyu..ini mon
thirikeee vaa..ammaykkunniye kaananam..

Maavinmarathinte shikharangalil thoongi kidakkunnorila paranju..paavam amma..enikkavarude vishamam kaanan vayya..ethra varshanglaayi avar palahaarangalumaayi enno orikkal makanezhuthiya kathile aksharangaleyum vishwasichu,pratheekshayude kirangalaal manassineyum prakaashichu jeevikkunnu..avan ee ammaye enne marannittundaakanam..avante manassil oru kanika sneham vasikkunnu enkil varenda samayam kazhinjirikkunnuu..kazhinja vasantham kaalam muthal maathramaanu njan ammaye kaana thudangiyathu..ennalum itha avarude kaathirippinteyum pratheekshayudeyum jwaalayil mungi shirassu muthal ente udalin keezhe vare kariyunnu..shishirakaalathinu munpu thanne njan bhoomiyil
pathiyum ennu thonnunnu..

Aakaashatholam valarnnu panthalichu nilkkunna maavilninnum oela balaheenamaayi kaattil
aadiaadi nananja bhoomiyil pathinju..Ammayude novinaayi orilayude thyaagam..avarude vishaadathinte theevratha sahikkaanaavathe maavinmarathinte oro ilakalum kozhinju veenu..Aakashatholam valarnnu panthalichuninnirunna maavu shishirakaalathinu orupaadu munputhanne nagnayaay..viroopiyay..muttathorabhangiyaayi..pakshe maavinmaram
santhoshavathi aayirunnu..ammayude makan thirike varunnathu vare njan ee muttathu oru vasanthavismayamaaya nagna vrukshamaayi ninnukollam..Aa makanum ammayum orumikkunnathu vare enikkoru vasantha rithuve sweekaaryamalla..avan thirike varunnathu vare ee maavin marathinu elakalude alankaaram venda..
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2019
the desired sadness,
worth a heiving...
a claustrophobic heart...
a sense of
nearness...
something...
beside the ordinary,
and esp.
beside being
ordained
worthy outside
the existence
              of a novel...
a...
   piano minuet...
like...
i only want to play
the piano,
but i don't
want to play
either Liszt or Chopin...
i want...
to feel as if i have
a heart...
i want to play...
the piano like
i might experience
the heart...
Debussy...
Satie...
                 Priya...
i want to live a life
of having
to experience
a love teased,
kept in the "dark",
"as if": waiting...
but then...
i don't even
want "that"...
do i?
             i forget
to levitate,
and gravity...
whenever i am bound
to having to express...
taking a ****...
anchor: first mate:
down!
all the way down...
among the *****!
gentle tunes...
tickling
rather than playing
a piano...
you are a being
i feed off
to feed a worthwhile
forget for
all that is and protrudes
itself to be "worth"
remembering!
   a beauty in the blink
of an eye...
a secret...
       a taboo...
          and something...
that would require a god
to make reality of...
and even then...
not worth the effort...
something...
as fragile as spring
and as vague as
whatever colours appear
in winter...
something truly
transcendental...
in passing...
never to be made unison,
to be joined...
passing, or fleeting,
by matrimony...
yet...
persistent... "there"...
gravity -esque...
       a verbiage burden...
my, little... piano escapade...
to attempt battling
diacritical marks with
nuance...
          my little something,
my altogether, nowhere;
my time, my patience...

                  my...
                              i cannot
even mourn...
being kept apart...
     i...
                 i cannot even begin
to sip at the fountain
of ambition
to make the ideas,
to people, unite....
    
      it's as if...
with first sight...
your first sight is to turn
you blind...
        i concede...
      mockery...
derision...
             so little acting
i have left in me...

     but a snap of
the fingers...
                   while the mountains
crumble...
               thieving love
through the artifact
of a butterfly's existence
of, par: 2 weeks...
           flinch of hue...
and burgundy...
to arrest
           the cheecks to tame
the sudden plush
they are to imbue...

     yeah...
i know... redundant...
       rhododendron reality...
i can't escape it...
like i wish there was a
plug-in realism anti-god
app.,
            muse... nabokov-esque
                      pristine...
if anything is worth being
lost...
it's that "you"...
              just like...
if what i remember...
is to be made concise
within the framework
of me?
                  there is no... "me"...

rhododendron reality...

                 or...
playing the piano...
very gently...
like a Debussy...
which you cited...
when your father drove
me home one night...

         Satie...
i was never into bashing
the fingers...
akin to the virtuoso
of either Liszt or Chopin...

     like some templar choir
boy for the monks...
       i touch this china-girl?
i am water,
she is salt,
she immediately melts!    

       all but the tender kissing
of a worth's concern,
to translate
what i did to a body
of a *******,
and what i could have
done with yours...
intact, with a seal
of a ring of obligation;

but this is not
the life i am to be allowed
such...
peacocking...
i abide here,
with you...
your humble...
                         pauper;
music appreciator:
               grandiose.
Priya Patel  Jun 2015
Forgiving
Priya Patel Jun 2015
A forgiving grey
Black and white together sway
until the next rain
A forgiving grey
Moody clouds come out and play
a forboding and colorless sky
Black and white together sway
A forgiving grey

© Priya Patel 6/1/2015
Priya Devi Apr 2015
I'll find you your answers in the bottoms of your cocktail glasses
The solution to whatever keeps you up all night,
I know the poison that plagues you, you know mine.
I know your words are locked behind jail cell toothy smiles and smokey eyes, I know you don't remember I exist when you're not ******* me.

"Get me drunk",
you say.
As if I'm your favourite bad influence. You love priya pressure like I'm a guilty pleasure...

Like I'll teach you how to stray from pruned paths
and get your hands and knees *****
and how to get stains out of cotton dresses
Like I'll teach you ******* yourself slowly
Like I'll teach you to be the person your mother prayed you would never be
Because you think you like ***, drugs and gold toothed gangsters, you think you'll want to stick with me.

I know this isn't who you really want to be.

I know this isn't who we are.

Our hands may reach for each other or others or paraphernalia or liquid lovers,
but both know we're reaching for some thing further.

Out of reach and out of our time.
Out of the circle that came from a line.
Out of the room when you're out of your mind,

out

out

I need out
Priya Patel Mar 2016
Another day another hour  
lost in the hum drum  
of everyday life
I am a mother, a daughter,  
partner by your side
I never say it enough
never share what I feel
never tell you how much  I adore you,
I truly do
Your simple ways,
and the smile in your eyes  
You are the **** sporty realistic spice  
that I fall in love with day after day
There is so much I feel and not enough
words to convey how much
I truly adore you
I truly do
There is no glam or glitz
or fairytale blitz
but there is trust and love
and years of support;
an unspoken desire  
that I somehow distort
But I want you to know
after all these years
you still are the flame  to my fire...

© Priya Patel Feb 28, 2016
Mateuš Conrad May 2021
i can recite you the names
of the loves of at first site:
Milena...
"Candice" the Cat...
Samantha...
Janina...
Priya...
Isabella...
             i never ****** these women...
if i guessed right...
  (well... except ******* Isabella...
a silly pre-post-virginity-loss ****...
most probably drunk)....
they were probably
the younger sisters
of the older sisters i managed to ****...
notably?
promis & priya...
just saying...
i was so close to"laura" the Iranian-Scootch...
curse of the younger sister...
it's unlike for man
to marry a ****-star...
the idea fickles and furrows...
to somehow exist via: the cure's kiss me kiss me...
kiss me morality bogus... quest...

    Priya is us: most ******-up...
******* a a younger sister of the first allowance
of a blow-job?
the elder sister's first allowance ascribed...
in the afterlife?
you, me... and my sister...
now i will cite: tired of a shadow...
non-inquisitive of solipsistic islands bound
to the Pacific... rummaging
eternity with bride... and younger sister...
who would ******* need an Islamic Harem
at this point?

    i'll keep her to her word:
her (promise) and Priya...
        on a whale, island... of a non-confessional...
perhaps i was interesting when she said: said words...
bogus I: aged 21 circa...
but her younger sister was my forever
love at first sight...
i can't just ******* wake up from "that"...
i hid and hid and hid and hide more I hid...
this... loiter of...
no!
        eternity is me without *****...
you without concept of revealing access to a "heritage"...
aren't.. we... justified?!
i am father to the fatherless...
aren't we.. justified?!

it's like the doubled anti-******
of the ideology of harem compensation...
to savour two sisters...
you're missing a third though, dearest Graeae...
if you support knowing me: why belittle me?!
how many silent screams have you heard
echo from my cruel: digging imitation of what
could: scrutinise the fabric of public intellectualism?!
forget the verbiage...
forget, foremost... that i allowed myself
to be revealed unto you.
Priya Patel  Sep 2016
Fall leaves
Priya Patel Sep 2016
Fall leaves 

The leaves appear distressed
angrily rustling 
frantically whispering 
lashing out at the branches
that once held them strong 
Their path has changed course 
from a tree of life 
it is now each leaf for itself 
and soon the leaves will Fall 

© ~ Priya, 9/5/16
Priya Patel Feb 2017
I wonder what he hides
behind those smiling lies
and the warm creeping blush
that shades his eyes

I wonder if he knows
that I can see

I wonder what he sees
when he looks at me
the flushed cheeks
and hesitant goodbyes
quivering lips
from wasted lies

I wonder what he sees*

© Priya Patel, 1/29/16

The face is the mirror of the mind, and eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart.
~ St. Jerome
Priya Patel  Oct 2015
Rag doll
Priya Patel Oct 2015
Its the silent nights
I've come to dread
the silent sewing
of needle and thread
stiching my tearfilled wounds
I am a hero by day
and rag doll by night
torn and falling apart
unable to reach light
I am a cause
that seems to be lost

© Priya Oct 15, 2015

— The End —