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Drab Oct 10
The Intro….


My Fourth Step
Drab Musician
October 10th, 2024 – the year of your lord.

I nearby, being of sound mind and body?
Bequeeth my fourth step to said sponsor (listening to this, theoretically).
I remind the reader (or listener), to forget EVERYTHING..........
I say after this moment.


I ****** over a lot of people.
I’m afraid of everything.
They, still ****** me over, no matter how badly I ****** them.
(BUT, they did it first, most of the time)
I’m afraid of everything.
I like ***.
Too Much..........
Information that is...

Amen

Chapter I................................................................­....
NOTES - quickie number four.....
Àŧùl Sep 22
She had introduced me,
To Hello Poetry.

'Twas a day like none other,
I reached Amritsar for her.

Accompanying me that day,
Was my kind physiotherapist.

Yes, the very same physiotherapist,
Who I dubbed physio the ******,
For the pain used to be unbearable.

But no,
'Twas necessary for my betterment.

Coming back to Amritsar,
She was pleasantly surprised.

For she thought I'd play a prank,
Just like she had played one on me.

Giving me a false hope that she'll come,
Anyway, I went to her home.

I wished her on her birthday,
My physiotherapist went away.

I tuned her guitar as E A D G B E,
Eddy Ate Dynamite, Good Bye Eddy.

They laughed, her friends.
For who eats a Dynamite!

Well, that's the standard tuning,
Now I played a few songs.

Her friends were impressed,
Of me, she was proud.

I presented her a pen drive,
A Gaņesha adorned drive.

She loved it,
And thanked me.

After the party, she insisted that I stay,
I slept beside her father.

She shook me awake, and I was like,
"Who are you," she put her hand.

"Shh, it's me," she whispered,
I understood and relaxed.

She kissed me again at 3:30 a.m. on 24th,
This time I was awake and gave her my warmth.

Later, before sunrise, I went to the Station,
I had united with my Physio The ******.

I hugged her for one last time,
And we climbed on the train back.

Now nothing remains but memories,
Bitter ones to be more precise.

She cheated on me in 2015-16,
When I couldn't go to Amritsar.

My former best friend capitalised,
The ******* induced the breakup.

But that girl, who got so easily seduced,
She Wasn't Sad — Droņa Wept Like Kids.

And the immortal Droņa died,
Unable to trust anyone again.
My HP Poem #1997
©Atul Kaushal
leeaaun Dec 2023
In tales of old, on Mount Olympus high,
Where gods and goddesses roamed the sky,
Aphrodite, fair and beauty's muse,
But whispers tell of a love confused.


In affairs of hearts, her charms renowned,
Yet rumors spread, a deceit profound.
Her love, a tapestry woven with desire,
Yet secrets whispered, fueled the fire.


A cheater in the game of divine affection,
Her heart's allegiance sparked introspection.
For Cupid's arrows, not always true,
In love's labyrinth, confusion grew.


To Ares, god of war, she turned her gaze,
A clandestine affair, a dangerous craze.
In the shadows of Mount Olympus, they conspired,
Love's flame illicit, yet never tired.


The gods above, in their celestial court,
Witnessed Aphrodite's love distort.
For in her quest for passion's sweet embrace,
She left behind a trail of love's disgrace.


But was she a cheater or victim of fate?
In the realm of gods, emotions intricate.
Aphrodite, tangled in love's intricate dance,
A celestial romance, a fateful circumstance.


So, in the pantheon's tales of divine deceit,
Aphrodite's story, in whispers, we repeat.
A goddess of love, entangled in desire,
A cheater or not, the myths conspire.
leeaaun Nov 2023
In the intricate tapestry of love,
the adage "once a cheater, always a cheater"
weaves a cautionary thread.


It is a phrase laden with the weight of experience,
a mantra that whispers of broken trust and shattered vows.


When someone treads the path of betrayal,
leaving the fragments of a once-whole heart in their wake,
the scars run deep.


The echoes of deceit reverberate
in the corridors of love,
leaving those who have been wounded hesitant to trust again.


The notion, "once a cheater, always a cheater," emerges as a defense mechanism,
a shield against the vulnerability of being deceived once more.


Yet, in the realm of love,
the narrative isn't always so black and white.
People evolve, learn from their mistakes, and yearn for redemption.


It's crucial to acknowledge the capacity for change
within each individual.
While the wounds of betrayal may linger,
they need not dictate the course of someone's entire romantic journey.


The human experience is multifaceted, and relationships are complex landscapes.


People stumble, fall, and sometimes, they rise anew, reshaped by the crucible of their own errors.


Love, at its essence, encompasses forgiveness, growth, and the possibility of second chances.


So, while the cautionary phrase carries the weight of wisdom,
it is equally important to recognize the potential for transformation.


People can break free from the chains of their past misdeeds,
learn to value trust, and construct relationships founded on honesty and integrity.


Love, after all, is as much about healing as it is about the initial spark.


In the end the tale of "once a cheater, always a cheater"
is not a universal truth
but rather a reminder that love demands conscientious navigation.


It prompts us to approach relationships with discernment,
to treasure the fragility of trust,
and to foster an environment where growth and change are not only possible but celebrated.
ky Jul 2023
Looking back on it,
I realize it was all lies.

All the "sweet" things you said,
they were just to blind me from the truth.
You never meant a single word.

So I've decided it's not worth remembering lies
and that I'm better off forgetting
you.
Eva Mar 2023
It’s really hard to be sweet, loving, and kind
After I found out the man I love is no longer just mine.
He’s a man who loves the women of the streets,
A man who doesn’t even clean his own sheets,
Who I believed had once swept me off my feet
Really, he swept underneath my feet
Eternally cursing me.
======
तेरी पर चलती रहे दुकान,
मान गए भई पलटू राम।
======
कभी भतीजा अच्छा लगता,
कभी भतीजा कच्चा लगता,
वोहीं जाने क्या सच्चा लगता,
ताऊ का कब  नया पैगाम ,
अदलू, बदलू, डबलू  राम,
तेरी पर चलती रहे दुकान।
======
जहर उगलते अपने चाचा,
जहर निगलते अपने चाचा,
नीलकंठ बन छलते चाचा,
अजब गजब है तेरे काम ,
ताऊ चाचा रे तुझे  प्रणाम,
तेरी पर चलती रहे दुकान।
======
केवल चाचा हीं ना कम है,
भतीजा भी एटम बम है,
कल गरम था आज नरम है,
ये भी कम ना सलटू राम,
भतीजे को भी हो सलाम,
तेरी पर चलती रहे दुकान।
======
मौसम बदले चाचा बदले,
भतीजे भी कम ना बदले,
पकड़े गर्दन गले भी पड़ले।
क्या बच्चा क्या चाचा जान,
ये भी वो भी पलटू राम,
इनकी चलती रहे दुकान।
======
कभी ईधर को प्यार जताए,
कभी उधर पर कुतर कर खाए,
कब किसपे ये दिल आ जाए,
कभी ईश्क कभी लड़े धड़ाम,
रिश्ते नाते सब कुर्बान,
तेरी पर चलती रहे दुकान।
======
थूक चाट के बात बना ले,
जो  मित्र था घात लगा ले,
कुर्सी को हीं जात बना ले,
कुर्सी से हीं दुआ सलाम,
मान गए भई पलटू राम,
तेरी पर चलती रहे दुकान।
======
अहम गरम है भरम यही है,
ना आंखों में शरम कहीं है,
सबकुछ सत्ता धरम यही है,
क्या वादे कैसी है जुबान ,
कुर्सी चिपकू बदलू राम,
तेरी पर चलती रहे दुकान।
======
चाचा भतीजा की जोड़ी कैसी,
बुआ और बबुआ के जैसी,
लपट कपट कर झटक हो वैसी,
ताक पे रख कर सब सम्मान,
धरम करम इज्जत  ईमान,
तेरी पर चलती रहे दुकान।
======
अदलू, बदलू ,झबलू राम,
मान  गए भई पलटू राम।
======
अजय अमिताभ सुमन
सर्वाधिकार सुरक्षित
इस सृष्टि में बदलाहटपन स्वाभाविक है। लेकिन इस बदलाहटपन में भी एक नियमितता है। एक नियत समय पर हीं दिन आता है, रात होती है। एक नियत समय पर हीं मौसम बदलते हैं। क्या हो अगर दिन रात में बदलने लगे? समुद्र सारे नियमों को ताक पर रखकर धरती पर उमड़ने को उतारू हो जाए? सीधी सी बात है , अनिश्चितता का माहौल बन जायेगा l भारतीय राजनीति में कुछ इसी तरह की अनिश्चितता का माहौल बनने लगा है। माना कि राजनीति में स्थाई मित्र और स्थाई शत्रु नहीं होते , परंतु इस अनिश्चितता के माहौल में कुछ तो निश्चितता हो। इस दल बदलू, सत्ता चिपकू और पलटूगिरी से जनता का भला कैसे हो सकता है? प्रस्तुत है मेरी व्ययंगात्मक कविता "मान गए भई पलटू राम"।
indigochild Dec 2021
i awake upon brewing dawn -
stinge of a last hit waltzes past
my beloveds’ fingertips taunted with ash,
and i succumb to hauntings

how i beckon with lost days
overindulge in spoonfed daggers
my blistered throat parallels zir inflamed ego
suffocated deceptive, guilt - scripted coerced, apologizes
escorted by fault down crimson carpets
what a provocative

refusal of touch names me ****?
but the other femme knows another,
another i know well

the grim reaper looms amidst repressed dusk
i plead for rising moons
i appeal for reassurance
query the harlot?
i mustn’t
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