Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Akshatha Hegde Jun 2014
I texted you,
You Whatsapped back.
I posted on your Wall,
You pinged me on GTalk.
I pinged back on GTalk,
You Vibered me.
I buzzed you on Lync,
You mailed me on Yahoo.
I messaged you on FB,
You shared a post on G+.
I messaged you on Linked In,
You sent a talking parrot on Farmville.
Seriously?

I invited you to an Outlook meeting,
You invited me to your Picasa album.
I pinned an interest,
You YouTubed yours.
I wrote this blog post
while you Tweeted.

It's time to throw away
this smartphone
and call home.
If you don't answer,
I'll see your light on,
cross the street
and knock on your door.
Bharti Singh Mar 2016
As a kid when I heard the stories
Of heavens and hells
And gods and ghosts
I thought of those to be true
But as I grew
My education warned me
Not to trust that view

As a child when my elders advised
Do unto others as you would have them do to you
I thought they were impractical
Ignorant of smartness required
To manage things through

By far I thought I was the wise
To have known it all
Realized late in time
How great was that fall

Superficial logic, intellectual materialism
Cloaked my natural state of true mind
Boosting desires, sterile opinions
Leaving the true sense behind

I am thankful to the nature
For giving me an opportune
To study the greatest reality
Why humans are marooned

Time and space are eternal
I am just the part of that infinite
The one awarded with human form
For some past intentions right
I should not take pride in that
For where I am today
Later might be someone else’s part

Man who decoded the mystery of mind
Taught this decades ago
Guard thoughts, actions, and speech
To reach the real goal
Not judge anything and any being
Instead focus on developing clear seeing
As everything is ever changing
Including ones birth realms
A full mind just exhibits knowledge
Only in empty mind wisdom reaps
Don’t get swayed by extremes
Middle way is the path of keep

Now I understand
Message behind the moral stories
What one sows is what one reaps
One gets heavenly pleasures or hellish pain
Exclusively based on law of deeds
One gets what one deserves
For law of nature never fails

But latent power within
Can turn it all around
If not enlightenment
One can at least find in life
A decent ground
Now and in future!
Dedicated to one of the greatest teachers "Shakyamuni Siddharth Gautama Buddha".

One superman that I call him for encouraging people to exploit their power of minds to the fullest to experience peace that they look for in the external sources.  Just like body needs exercise to remain fit, mind needs stillness to be wise. Meditation is the tool to exercise the mind.

It's simple, yet difficult for most.

Buddha (Founder of Buddhism)
Äŧül Apr 2013
It positively affects my mood.

I become more independent of the society, I help people with their stuff and entertain them with my poems, stories, couplets, jokes, essays, songs & guitar.

I also take to first-hand social service whenever possible and I've also taught some underprivileged children & imparted elementary education to them.

I get my poetry ideas from this activity.

I think & feel differently about the world.

I look the others into their eyes with piercing confidence and I think you never had that confidence.

I feel stronger & more in control.

My appetite has greatly improved from being a poor eater in my childhood to a healthy eater in my adulthood.

My virility isn't affected at all and instead, I gain more stamina and manliness; my tool is strengthened.

My imagination power, IQ and hence smartness is also increased - believe me these have actually increased.

I cleared 9 & 10 examinations in my engineering degree two different times at one attempt each and my response time is greatly improved.

I become more confident.

My strength isn't reduced, but I go to the gym and I exercise as good as others.

My power & force are perfectly normal.

My eyes are shining bright, dark black in the middle of pure white.

I have never got any dark circles.

It takes me no more than 10 minutes to recover completely, it depends on the body about how it performs.

Over-use of anything - even oxygen as it oxidizes body & mind - is utterly harmful.

Quality has become thicker & brighter each day I exercise.

So keep hands on your tools than some ****** books blaspheming against the new-found rage.

Consult an expert instead of developing your own stories or believing the same old ****** stories.

Everything has a limit and within that limit, it is extremely enjoyable.

Just one last tip: Keep yourself humane with yourself & don't become a dumb & helpless addict to get embarrassed in front of your family one day.

Now if you feel that I'm spreading blasphemy & bad thoughts, you may please stop reading my poems instead of cursing me in vain.
Though not all people are known to have these positive effects of the new-age rage.
My HP Poem #157
© Atul Kaushal
uzzi obinna  Oct 2015
did u know
uzzi obinna Oct 2015
Stars can only be seen in darkness,
A wealthy foundation has nothing to do with greatness,
Love is not completely selfless,
The journey to heaven is not painless.

Nothing is is actually valueless,
the boldest isn't completely fearless,
death doesn't always mean one is breathless,
And Judges are often truthless.

Denial might be an act of pureness,
Rejection a show of kindness,
Speaking up attimes can be senseless,
And a hug does not always represent oneness.

A soldiers retreat doesn't always mean weakness,
An enemy's surrender might be smartness,
A woman's smile may not be happiness,
A child's determination might be born out of emptiness.

Marraige vows are usually baseless,
We are alive because our hearts are restless,
Scientists are mostly clueless,
Psycologists usually feel helpless.

Caring for the poor might be termed madness,
But many wealthy are now homeless,
And even if we're not treated with fairness,
You and i are definitely priceless.
Wrote this ds evening as i took a stroll in a neighbourhood nd watched people who didnt knw dat a stranger came around and was watching their evry move jst to put smtn down on paper.
Kuvar May 2018
When a *******
Is in love
He doesn’t know it
He unknowingly
Plays his game in clay
Swiftly in his smartness
He misses the path “don’t love”
His fatal fall into a quicksand
Yet, he doesn’t know it
He thinks he is moving
But ******* has sunk half body
His phone rung until death comes
He would’nt answer till he ****
He is busy with another
And the others will still call
He’s got a new phone line
Thinking it means a new life
He keeps dialing  +234  
This time not caring about ****
******* sleeps in her dreams
With his eyes open
He says to himself
She is mean
*******! You were brutal to love
You cut off her wings
And let that dove not fly
Should you be proud
That today
Love grew up a hawk  
If you won’t accept her a dove
you will have to deal with this Hawk
When a ******* falls in love
He falls with hawkish wings cut
Deep down he would fall
To the bottomless pit
To a land of no return
When love plays a *******
He becomes the game
And love is doing the play
So if you are a *******
Take your time before night
Love will come in due time
©️kuvar

Don’t ask me if that ******* was me
1773

The Summer that we did not prize,
Her treasures were so easy
Instructs us by departing now
And recognition lazy—

Bestirs itself—puts on its Coat,
And scans with fatal promptness
For Trains that moment out of sight,
Unconscious of his smartness.
Shiv Pratap Pal Jun 2020
They are so much cunning and cruel
Yet they possess, intelligence and smartness
Yes, they are filled with over confidence
They are absolutely shameless too

Don’t you feel my dear?
They don't have any sort of fear
They are beating us, hitting us
And we are helplessly watching them

They are neither allowing us to weep
Not they are letting us to cry loud
They are snatching our source of livelihood
They are looting our meagre savings too

They are boring bigger holes in our pockets
By their powerful invisible technological drills
Selling all sorts of stuff they use to produce
Drugs, sanitizers, hand washes and what not

They are asking to keep our ugly mouth fully shut
By putting beautiful, colourful and fancier masks
They are not letting us to meet our friends
They are not letting us to share our meals

They are not allowing us to share our views
They are not allowing us to share our thoughts
With any of our friend, relatives and fellow citizens
They are just telling us to follow whatever they say

They are throwing ******* and garbage on us
In the name of science, health and hygiene
There appears to be not much science
In their so call science and modern science

Shamelessly they proclaim to be our saviours
Saving us from the army of an invisible enemy
Although existence of any such army is doubtful
But their intentions are doubtful and doubtful

If any such invisible army of enemy really exists?
It may have been raised and owned by them only
To **** the lives of all the other fellow humans on earth
And to fulfil their greed and lust for power and money

They are planning to inject in our bodies
Some drugs, chemical or any such thing
They will even charge money for that
And try to fill their everlasting greed

I wonder, who they are?
God, Demi Gods or the Devils
Or they are just a band of inhuman
Resembling a band of nasty humans

Do they really have some superpower?
Or they are just a bunch of ugly parasites?
Trying to draw everything from our lives
Just to feed himself and to recreate his own life
A poem from the point of view of  conspiracy theorists.
Cat Fiske Sep 2015
there once was an englishman
and he treated me as well as the bee treat the flowers as they land,
and the englishman told me everyday,
how much he truly loved me,
how he loved me as if I was the only girl around,
how he told me I would be the sexiest girl in any town,
and the englishman told me he loved me,
and it took me quite a while to actually believe,

but, this englishman did other things for me,
when he'd talk I feel in love with his voice,
and his smartness,
and his jokes,
and his way to always throw into the conversation,
a million compliments,
and I could barely find the words to say thank you most times,
and I was shocked to hear all the lovely things he had said about me,
rather than the usually flaw countdown party I got daily,

and I hated myself,
that I could not say I love you back,
for a while I don't know why I didn't believe,
why I felt like it was too good to be true,
and how I wanted to grow up each second I spoke to him,
so I could move away to see him,

so, I truly loved this person,
and I kept thinking and waiting,
for when,
he'd stop,
loving me too,
I love this guy a lot, and I figured I'd write something about him.
He was a real life genius
And didn’t even know it
With simple things he struggled
He wouldn’t give up and quit

They said he was *******
I think they were being mean
To them he shouldn’t  of listened
Smartness he never conceived

At school he always got bullied
Laughed at, kicked, and beaten down
Then he was really quiet
Because he’d been pushed around

His heart broken in the end
He was sitting all alone
Thinking how life was unkind
No one to see falling tears shone

His best friend found him hanging
He put a rope around his neck
His friend not understanding why
He never said that's how he felt

Wondering what he could have done
Now his friend’s heart is hurting
Telling about being bullied
So began the job alerting

Our differences are proper
That is how we were created
Just accept each other like we are
Because bullying  is time wasted
DIPTI DHAKUL  Jul 2019
Ecosystem
DIPTI DHAKUL Jul 2019
Her crisp vocals paint paths, long poised by me.

Her beauty is a reality where my ecosystem drives.

Her omnidirectional audio reads every touch and feels every string.

Her heart-bytes pump voltage in my device(veins).

Her smartness is a safe place, where I shut down.

© Feelings Coated
Her=Alexa
Heart Byte=Heart Beat

From the book Feelings Coated
PK Wakefield  Oct 2011
Untitled
PK Wakefield Oct 2011
we,re bound
elegantly breathing
even hot tea
in quiet cafes
on holly st
i'll listen for an hour or so i'll listen
to those distracting hips
mangle smartness
them things
got
                          heaven between them

— The End —