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Jayantee Khare May 2018
and since that day
everyday
cleared the grime
with time,
taking baby steps
but no look back
i got through slowly
and eventually
maybe little late
but cleaned the slate,
i moved on
yes I've moved on...
Tatiana Apr 2018
Us three little kids run amok through the nights
creating our own mischief and creating our own frights.
We sneak up concrete steps that lead to wooden doors
and ring the bells right next to them and run away on all fours
Who? You ask, that we ding-**** ditch,
we've pranked humans, monsters, and once even a witch.
We once rang the door during the day of some creeper
and nearly had a meeting with the grim reaper.
But that did not stop our tricky ways
so we ding-**** ditch death, always.
For we're not the children of daylight
we are the children of the night
© Tatiana
I know it's not Halloween, but this is a very Halloween-like poem and the concept of ding-****-ditching death is one of those ideas that just can't leave your head until you write it in.
we know
he wrote it
do you really
think He meant
something
other
than
what
He said

why would you question me
has my intentions not blew
why would you circle me with your greed
or is your
lack
of
support
that tightens the cord
from the mind we do not draw
what they call art
they have never saw
your eyes shall open wider
what fire is is that has yet been know
to teach me from nothing
what more of your nothingness
shall we apply more to me
that my edges be drawn to the side
that my refuge never be strength
from Wyatt pheasant flown
have your letters not fallen
what have you minus the shallows
that you would hide in caves from me
what have I taken from you
that your mind be as waste


you to pleas me look
here I stand
the mere
flesh
of
an
man

burn me here
consume me in this fire
that my lines only
































drop
for you


only rise to you

that my thoughts
of
the
only
love


I
have
ever known

from my depths
it is you I cling to
it is you I long for
this insanity
belongs
to me
one
way
it will be seamed sane
?

























...
..
.
that your toes
may itch
after
...
..
.
Àŧùl Jun 2017
"I love my 57474 Forever"*
A variation of this phrase,
Used to be my password everywhere.

Yes it was so easy to remember,
For each heartbeat repeated it,
And I could just not forget it ever.

But then she chose to walk out on me,
A rethink she gave not her decision,
And seemingly I am going to be lonely,
Not just for a day but forever & ever.
On a T9 keyboard with some memory,
The number 57474 will translate as her name.

My HP Poem #1573
©Atul Kaushal

PS: I've changed my password everywhere ever since she departed from my life.
Alan S Bailey Mar 2017
Feel my pain,
etched into time,
I am not the one
to keep others in line,
but sometimes I would
just love to be heard.
I am no one, that's clear,
so no one takes my word.
Put me in a ditch, make
yourselves grand,
you are the only ones who
others understand.
One things for sure-on a cold day
in hell, I'd never give you the time
of day, but I'm no one, so oh well.
Àŧùl Dec 2016
I have accepted my defeat,
And I know that I can't love you,
Not now.

Unlike you, I am not immoral,
But the lover inside is immortal,
Now I know.

I will love someone yet again,
That someone who is luckier,
But of course.

She who is smarter & intelligent,
The one that will love me like I do,
Yes of course.

That someone who is focussed,
Goes on a straight way to success,
Not off course.

Neither intending to insult you,
Nor it intends to glorify me,
This poem is a confession.

I am a plain idiotic lover,
I do not wear Prada like you,
Not borrowing such pleasures.

I am not for you.

I will skim the downpour,
Aiming the best for myself,
And I will succeed.

For my love does not perish,
It just changes its forms, and
It gives me pleasure.
HP Poem #1319
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Nov 2016
She crept up my veins,
And highjacked my heart,
Before dumping it.
HP Poem #1275
©Atul Kaushal
Smit Nov 2016
My baby left me yesterday,
Packed her bags and went away,
High heels on the carpet,
Took my keys and craved her name into my car seat.

And that's the last one I let push me around,
I've said it before but I mean it now,
Get me out this city, I just need to clear my mind.

We left this evening, gave them twenty dollars for some gas in Boston,
grab a bite but now we're taking off,
When we got to Melrose, fifteen nights of April,
We just drank our sorrows, talked about the day we'll have it all.

- Charlie Puth "Ride To Melrose"
Àŧùl Aug 2016
Don't be present day Colombus,
Or you will die in misconception,
Like he thought that he found India,
Or the sea route to this mystical land,
Because America he had discovered,
Or a better land unknown to them,
He just died in the misconception,
Or would you die mistaken too?
Ditching me was the worst step you took independently in your young life but I still pray for your good.

And I know that I can find no better person to love.

So yes, wish or don't, I am really going to wait for you.

My HP Poem #1112
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Apr 2016
She has left me forever but wants to enjoy my company forever because she knows that my advice was as worthy as her father's advice for her. And she wanted a cool boyfriend, not a caring and overprotective ****** like me, in her words. She has unfortunately chosen to ditch me forever. But she is paradoxically true in saying that the care I dispensed was more like that of a father than just a cool lover or a boyfriend who she desired.

I can't stand the sight of herself willingly falling into the quicksand that the evil society is. She will weep alone someday, repenting for making all the wrong choices and I won't be waiting for her forever because my respected parents have wrested my life from the clutches of death so that I may do something worthy of my calibre, not condescending from mere some ****** girl's stupid decisions.

So I chose to move on alone. She'll realize one day that her decisions were all made sluttily and wrongly so. But when she realizes so, I will make sure that I am not there to handle her once again. I will stop being concerned for her altogether.

I forgive her with the guarantee to forget her and come over to move on beyond her one day. But no one will get my more than humanitarian love ever.
Not a poem.
Just a Declaration of Freedom.
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