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nishta Jul 17
she was chai
exotic and thrilling.
i was addicted
drowning in her spices
her taste overwhelming me
engulfing me
but while i craved her
wanted her
she could never fulfil
the thirst in me.

i am parched
and i have no water.
chai=tea
Maggie Georgia Aug 2018
Sipping on happiness,
Sadness withering away
as the sun lingers on my skin.
It’s a beautiful day today.

On my right,
The creativity is thriving
Minds are filled with abstraction;
She can’t be stopped.
The pencil moves as colour imprints
With the magic of a hand,
This is all human doing.
Her mind is as beautiful as this day
The sun shining
is the highlight of her drawing
The rich soil
Is the colour she creates
The wind
Is the way her hand moves.
Thé Chai is right in front of me
It’s a bright day today.
Charlie Gnarly Jun 2018
Closing my eyes, I sit on my chair with tea,
sipping and cupping my chai with please.
Its cinnamon scent wafts through the air,
sending pleasant shivers everywhere.

Hints of cardamon slide down my throat with ease,
the musky mix of spices and black tea.
Slowly, I release my back to rest comfortably,
on the back of the old chair, that my mother gave me.
This is an actual proper poem (Wha??) that I've started writing that I think is pretty cute. Chai tea is definitely one of favourite beverages. Tell me what ya'll think. :)
Cobalt Jan 2018
You remind me of Chai tea.

You're warm, and sweet, and you make me want to curl up with you on a rainy day, tangled in bedsheets and watching the rain pitter patter on the window, in my pajamas and my hair piled up atop my head, listening to soft music that speak of lazy love and croon of kisses.

You make me think of tan sweaters and unrecognizable spices, alluding to all the mystery I don't know and want to know, devouring you like I would a good book on a crisp autumn day. You make me want to take a road trip to a forest where the fog comes meandering in, and I sit in the backseat, talking about life-to me, to you, or my non-metaphorical, quite literal, tea.

You make me want to slow down, and sit in a coffee shop and work on a book, or admire the chipped mug that you came in.

You remind me of Chai tea, and all that we could be.
A Sep 2017
I never told you I would leave.
Us;
In an airplane over Russia;
Our feet slipping into skates too small;
Sipping a distinctive type of chai.
You know me too familiar.
When I shiver, so do you.
We speak in our own language,
One in which the light bends
From your sapphire eyes;
One in which we are twins.
We burn together.

in summer.
To be free.

<I love you in every transatlantic mile.>
ahh
Arjun Raj Jan 2016
Brisk, warm, and easy to move on
No, not talking about a one night stand,
The cutting as they call,
The chai with the twist
Just enough to momentarily pause
Before you dive right back in
to the whirlwind of hope
ConnectHook Sep 2015



Cruciform character;  flowering daughter of orient Wisdom’s delight

A hymn to thee, beloved bush and Tree of Life, I raise.

May thy plucked leaves forevermore renew their gracious budding

Even as thy captured progeny produce, in death, thy praise

Like captive Hebrew exiles driven far from Zion’s hill

Loving still their Judge and punisher, recalling golden days…

In this cup of glorious elixir, infusing life with cheer

Asia’s attributes unveil, while I upon her marvels gaze.

Serenity enfolding, I forget all those before

In a rapturous caress I swiftly yield to her embraces

Nevermore to recall the ****** bean of Abyssinian lore

Ethiopian witch and desert hag, dark seed of nomadic races!

Now I hail the truth, whose leaf I love: L’chaim to the brew I adore

So sit with me and sip some cha. Let us kiss her myriad faces.

I scribe these lines in gratitude to that plant who soothes and inspires

Sweet Camellia, my love…  I read in the leaves
                                your ascending triumphant traces.
No HEBREW root so well can suit ;
More quickly taught, less dearly bought.
Yet studied twice a day.

This leaf, from distant regions sprung,
Puts life into the female tongue.
And aids the cause of love.

Phillip Freneau

Prabhu Iyer Aug 2015
Come marauder, sword unscabbarded, lay  
siege by deceit, wound mortal my coil again:
I live in aeons where millennia are puddles -
you will be assimilated, your venom spat out.

What of nations but the notions of separation,
people go, languages die like colours and petals
but here lies anchored, the soul of the world.

Deep in that recess where no man has gone,
by moonless nights, unfurled ancient
the song of the stars flowing in  distant skies

Who knows when time began? Who clocked
the beginnings? Here I asked of nought and nigh,
here the endless vast, and out of a featureless past
speaks the wisdom that lights continents afar
heroic the call to selfless action in the field of war.
Here was love born, in all her colours, and the lore
of the unhinged compassion of the liberated soul
here I asked of the highest god, why none above?

and came war beating its chest, lust laden again
pillage and plunder of the savage kind

but, I live, I live, I live,

I live in the cave temples of the unknown world,
I live in the music of the evening sun,
I live in the dance of the spirit drunk of love,
I live in the ruins whose soul is beyond plunder,
I rise towering from the ashes,

There - flies the wheel of law on the horizon high

There is yet a mighty dawn waiting to rain
down light on the veiled world, free free,
I am a spark of that thirsting fire!
Developing poem on the occasion of the Indian independence day, the 15th of August. 'The wheel of law' is my free rendering of Ashoka's Wheel, the central symbol on the Indian national flag.

Part of inspiration for this poem comes from the stirring song Chai (immortalized by Ofra Haza in this version: youtube.com/watch?v=uadPjtoONnM ) hebrewsongs.com/song-chai.htm

.
Andrew Name Apr 2015
rain dogs
lightn bolts
wet shirt
at forty five

pants soak
holes float
aflush with road
abig like sky


black chai
death sticks
all sunk
I hated it dry
forty five: degrees
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