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Prabhat Chhetri Feb 2017
city concrete crawling horizons

all preposterous blazing everywhere

THE GODS DOTH FEEL OF SUNSETS
like my wallet feels about emptiness

I am Mr neanderthal
flinting boring words
to light up one poem
to save myself from those nights that don't stop at the door

All I desire at this point is simple unchanging dullness
like drawing Tom with running shoes and Jerry with a Tom resistant suit


the streets are empty but the windows come alive
and the houses wake up
and there is light from the TV
and a child watching Disney Cartoons
and a parent ringing the doorbell
and dinner table conversations with the evening news on

and outside the dogs on the street chase every other vehicle that pass by

You don't even have a license.
r m  Jul 2015
seven billion
r m Jul 2015
as vast as the galaxy
with stars swarming
like a blanket of cloth
with twinkling dots of threads
we roam the earth
gallantly
with hearts individually beating
with breaths individually taken
and in the middle of the crowd
is me, thinking of the statistics

seven billion people in the world
and i chose to love
the one
i
cannot
have
thinking of that one person, again and again, like an after-thought that lingers until i cry these feelings all out
// july 2015
Weeping Zaire, her Bleeding Flannel blew
Over the Land this Serenity bequeath
What happened, then, to the Children you knew
Took out their Armites; And shot Mercy beneath
Salt from their Riches they greatly export
And infected your Brothers in the Dark
With Mums, Flesh-Spermed Tales of Horror consort
Lost all but their Shelled Samples in the Park
Our Dear Hands sprout! And cry to Heaven's Name
Asking the Saviour when this Madness ends
As the Radio's Red Tape is all just the same,
All just Light-Shows; But very few Amends.
These Congo Apes weep black at the Event
Not just the Brother; But Habitat meant.
savvy  Sep 2018
Seven
savvy Sep 2018
"Promise" has 7 letters.

So does:
"Moved on"

But, I have a 7 letter promise to you:
"I'll wait"
Seven is my lucky number. I hope this promise will be lucky enough to be true.
Here again, behind closed eyes
Balanced on this fragile threshold
One
Enjoying the moment before it’s over
As morning melts the locks
Two
Tenderly tracing unseen features
Kneading you from dreams and memories
Three
Feeling the meter of your sleeping heartbeat
Synchronizing as we breathe
Four
Folding you closer, moored in your warmth
Pressing your blessed scent against my chest
Five
Picturing the glow outside
Alighting on your resting eyes
Six
Savoring our seven precious seconds
Helplessly defending the present tense
Seven




Today I woke up holding your pillow.
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