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Failing at a game,
You did not even wish to play,
Conscripted into reality,
Without a say in such an act.
Play the game,
Or lose it all.
who am I now?
This body I once recognized,
Is transformed.
Softer, fuller, different.
My mind has always been a map,
With roads that spin in circles.
But my body was no match.
Now my skin tells the story,
Of a new life formed.
Of hard months and sleepless nights.
And I dont feel better off or stronger,
Like the others proudly say.
I feel foreign and unhappy.
So I'll drive down these new roads.
Looking for familiar landmarks.
Until I can once again,
Call this body home.
The uniVerse Oct 3
I'm watching the rain, again
watching how it's driven
crashing from the heavens
towards the Earth
bringing new life, rebirth
such a precious commodity
yet it's treated with triviality
man cannot live without water
but will fight to death for an idea
being heralded a martyr
shedding precious tears
tell me why you fight?
why you need the pain
when everything will be alright
right as rain.
Soar above your pains by coddling them.
Rise above your wounds by embracing them,
Ascend above your sorrows by accepting them.

Intertwine them, hold tight to the emotional charge.
Convert them to positive energy.
Make them a part of your prayer temple.

Your wound is the place,
Where your flowers will blossom,
With a rainbow of spring colors.

Your pain is the place,
Where your cure will emerge,
with the birth of new dawn and renewed purpose.

Your sorrow is the place,
Where your joy will bud,
With a life full of hope and optimism.

Hussein Dekmak
Copyright
Esther Sep 8
the sun rises east of my heart,
shocking the cold with rays of tenderness that spread.
at noon it is eclipsed by my soul,
still ablaze,
brightness pooling around the edges of the bubbling mass of myself.
it journeys west in a trail blazed of longing
until it leaves the caverns of my ribs
cold once more.
yet there is no longer a bite to the chill,
for the promise of warmth thumps in my arteries.
my new reality is bright -
for she will rise again
and in that i must trust.
Oscar Sep 3
life isn't a poem;
you don't choose to
stop
or start or
pick up where you left.
we do not hold the remote
or the pen
or the rope.
we hold on and we travel
with the wind.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
This poem is self translated version of my Hindi language poem titled "गीत का जन्म" published in Hindi Literary Magazine 'Veena' in June 2013
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Whe­n the wounds given by you gave much pain
Lightening occurred and cloud thundered
Downpour started, Poetry sprouted
It consoled and fed ambrosia
Relieved wounds, brought relief

Brick should be answered with stone
The poet also knows this
And also believes somehow
But throwing Brick is beyond his nature

In response to the brick and stone
He recites poetry
He sings a new song
On hearing his song

The one who wounded him, barks first
Then loudly bursts
Throws brick and stone again and again
The poet again recites a song

Keeps Smiling and Smiling
Creates a new poem
This proves beyond any doubt
Brick and stones give birth to Poetry.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
गीत का जन्म
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

तुम्हारे ज़ख्मों ने जब दर्द बख्शा
बिजली चमकी और बादल गरजा
कविता फूटी और जल बरसा
उसने मुझे संभाला, अमृत पिलाया
घावों को राहत दी, आराम पहुंचाया

ईंट का जवाब पत्थर से देना चाहिए
कवि भी यह जानता है
पूरी तरह से मानता है
पर ईंट चलाना उसके बस की बात नहीं

ईंट और पत्थर के जवाब में
वह कविता सुनाता है
गीत नया गाता है
जिसे सुन सुनकर

पहले तो मारनेवाला भुनभुनाता है
फिर जोर से फनफनाता है
पुनः ईंट और पत्थर चलाता है
कवि फिर गीत सुनाता है

खड़ा खड़ा मुस्कुराता है
नयी कविता बनाता है
इससे यह सिद्ध होता है
ईंट पत्थर कविता को जन्म देते है|
Peoetry and Song are born this way also. Do you Agree with me???
You are a bird
Like no other

You have eyes
Where no one else
Does cause you

Care about me
Not just a part
Of me you care

About all the mes!
And that is hard
Given how many
Of us there are

3 Facebooks
3 Instagrams
3 Tumblrs

And all 10 Twitters
You watch me
You watch over
Me

And most days
We just send a
Few words

A picture
Or two

But it's enough
For me to feel
Connected to you

Almost every day
Connected to a human
Who cares about all of me

That is a miracle!

You live in Germany
I live in the US

English isn't your native language
But you joined this poetry website
Partly in order to read the poems

I kept sending
Links to

And you write poems
In English that
Show your perspective

Matters
It is so unique
A crazy
Gem

An owl, a penguin, an emu
A flamingo
A bird
Thanks
Peggy
Andrea
Bird
...
Also Happy Birthday
Andrea Robinson
....
And RIP to
Andrea's
Best Friend
Who Passed
Unexpectedly
Yesterday
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