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Shiv Pratap Pal May 2019
Let's **** Gandhi
Let's **** Gandhi

Again and Again
Multiple Times

Gandhi Must be killed
He deserves to be killed

Because he killed no one
Neither human nor animal

Collect all your weapons
Load missiles and guns

Get some good Gun powder
Quintals and tonnes of it

Make sure to **** this time
Be sure, you mustn't fail again

But can you really **** Gandhi
No you can't, I bet you can't

You already tried and retried
But Gandhi remained alive

Gandhi Never died
He will never ever die

Gandhi is not a person
Gandhi is thought

Gandhi is Philosophy
Gandhi is Lifestyle

Gandhi is Liberation
Gandhi is Struggle

Gandhi is Courage
Gandhi is Peace

Gandhi is Gentle
Gandhi is Strong

Gandhi is Treasure
Gandhi is Heritage

Gandhi is immortal
You fools are mortal
You don't have the right to assassinate even if you cant agree.

Whether Mahatma Gandhi (Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi)  needs to be assassinated again and again? Will he really die?
Prelude  PART I


"Today when the threat is looming, as close apocalyptic years approach, it will be by cohabiting itself and the ruining valley of debris, which will make this world corrupted the next issue of the numeral scale of the new count, a rising hyperspace , concerning the parts of the kingdom of God ... "

Then on the Lord's day, John saw the glory of the risen Christ, and she understood from the point of view of God, he saw that the fate of the Church and threatened in the first persecutions took the appearance of a dark beginning.
And the time John wrote the Evangelist, including books were Jews called Revelation, that is, "Revelations". With fantastic images of monsters, angels and cataclysms, evidence of the Jewish people are stressed and are invited to await the judgment of God who intervenes from heaven with all his power.  So my beloved world is harsh and does not represent an apocalypse, but it is the true reality is when I will bear its overwhelming slaughter.

" Today when I walked with my winged feet near my friend Victor, I confided down the road crushed by afflictive legs; how difficult the taste of laughter when the decadent surrounds you, the human, the vile, the loose ...
Even though the celestial charisma invoke his memory and help nourish the weakness of Robert in hyperspace, with clean clothes, I can see his beloved mother consumed as automaton can take care of him. She is also her father, because it carries rooted in its members and manners, infinitely sharp look; in their arms they will gather wherever his soul is under his patronage that lives there ..."
I am  who  say that Roberto is a dog, who bears all the faces of dogs humble and serene. Perhaps tired of hearing young people, it is flush adults who do not accept, and who do not share as young faces were watching them, getting them to receive them what they should disclose them.
This is how we are numbed and distraction is fleeting, and he looking aside in his astrayed, he would be saying ...:
"Among the cradle and the grave I have a feeble scaffolding, and then complains, though his other I demolishes; unsconcient defends his executioner ... that the threat of death is its widespread depravity, which dominates it and want to go on like mortifiying.

      I want to talk about life ..., he said in his short years of life, which is more of it; possibly coming to complex, what our Somatic territory responds in normal or involuntarily. Comparative anatomy, and its innermost portion, the link body and mind, as a pure white as Samadhis and nature.
Homeostatic factors regulating our vitality, making its experimental modification, increasing to evolution, or maturation as a criterion of personal psychology go with the passage of time into in the depths of our mind.
Thus in a known threshold of Vedic architecture, its sensitivity is excited by regulating the effectiveness of the response to be made ... and everything related to the world of Ludwig Garroch; brother Robert in his strange Emigrate.
Yesterday when my arms away from hers, my fingers pounding away and recording what the heart more than a song, was a symphony sonata with a single end, long and sustained movement; It was the adage inner melancholy with an eye romanticism, which dominates the
passions of the visible world, which inhabits Antonieta, causing me, unbalanced living.


                                       CHAPTER I


In the beginning years of his childhood, little Ludwig sitting at home, in the gallery. Ask her aunt who was ironing ... Madelain, how I would always be a child of five ...?, And being as such, a privileged to receive toys for many years. Attentive aunt, maybe go to hear with little complacency as his hands only want unroll clothes.
After two years at the age of seven, when her aunt arranging his coat to go to Mass, she teaches a carol that had been taught in childhood. When many wondered whether there is a Santa Claus ...?, And among his friends they looked to unravel the mystery. One year later, when he enjoyed his unicycle, who just dominated him, called him a cousin telling her it was her birthday. He did not hesitate to go to find out what was behind the call, so he found the means by which we celebrate, we live and cooperate towards happiness and delight to have us at each other.
Not long after a friend told him .. "You do not have ten years are too big And Ludwig thought he was well endowed and well stopped, so not your friend was wrong in the above. It is my label and my stance has put the world on me.
Every passing day came the stamp of manly character, a woman or girl who made change her hairstyle, and he did dress more attractive every day.
Later, in his teens, his gaze was well received and their voices radiated security screening. Where He must continue the line of men. Even when I was living as smoothly, looks out strong destination with which calls us to live with skin clean or *****, because it is inside the feeling and the pain does not come out, it is enclosed by the overflowing affection. Here is the portion of good or evil haunting things casual and destroys the healthy, it fertile.

                                        
              ­                           CHAPTER II


Then was a year with a sports compensate pleasant summer sated outdoors, almost fugitive ... will not wonder that life smiled on him serfdom, and very willing opened his prudence.
Every time I decided to go to his favorite places, he went with his burly comrades in the best mood to conquer optimistically. Thus, no wonder he wanted when he was alone and put your reasoning judiciously, because nothing is distant, nothing is impossible.

After unite desires and forces, to clean your bike, piece by piece, in full sun know much security would not allow the mother of vices ruin their fun, that scarce alive to possess the desire to move and go on compliance instinct. Casts on itself, the vigor of the inner, its desolate world full of free enthusiasms who obey no doubt the vital complex activity.
Ludwig and entering the maelstrom of men love hate Godson, you can glimpse the friction with the air, with people ... I wore. That their voices heard their soul contracts, and thus puts light feet towards an acceleration which does not afflict his troubled stomach, nor regret his decision and put fearful, but, bring himself retained encouragement of his mind to remember the maternal cooing, comfort and timely relief to protect forever the suffering, the suffering of torment without end, not he shut the inspiration of the good man that no harm will result, and not for nothing the valence of living and not quarrel prancing. No existing could shed some light on what role, and that little thought is not complicated, and thus shown kneeling and unable to distressing oppressors and agents tangled conduct to chaos, those characters of ambition and discrimination.
Ludwig, who lives in the Ecologist City, where large forest ... budded, is home jungle floral site, whose relations are flowers, trees ..., next to Strange birds migrate flower in her intra nature reproduced, and pods evacuated by butterflies.
His close friend, is the watery and salty sea, which is beloved because he falls in love, puts on alert and curses him by his surroundings and invoking him. Anyway, it dwells wherever it is, and is accepted as a basic element of the universe.

                                    
                                         CHAPTER III

The act of tender love would be fulfilled later ..., what his voice fell silent and had his eyes and heart fortify, which will be linked from far inside.
At night, with Roderick going to a festive night, they climbed the rungs center alone, with heat in his shirt skin later. And in a deliberate action, someone asks you a sign that taking care tired and distinguishing see that John was his friend, school mate. He did not hesitate, he approached, greeted him and his sister and a cousin when she noticed well, he saw that he wore perfect for your night.
Debra wore elegant, dark clothes and sang with her dark brown wavy hair; his white brunette and harmonious ****** complexion line, gave her constant reflection. Fate was present, as it would not go around the world to be looked at by someone, he would watch his choice. Little was said, he only realized he was not passing and North America came eleven years ago.


They roasted the hours and the party ended, Ludwig remained with her new friend and his old friend John. They went downstairs, thinking about committing his new friendship, as I had noticed a slight interest in it. This happened and the meeting lasted for several hours.
The next day, he went to see her lawns roads where she lived, always with its mystique and kneeling the beast that wanted to impose upon him, that gives it excessive materialism unloved peace.
She arrives at her house, which was to John, though not very comfortable, but sure to please and attentive to host it.
And that night said much that was the tender feeling and liking her, but as his policy was rigid and concerning celibacy, only mattered to him, the unknown world of madness in his brawling to survive.
Time passed and deepened love, Ludwig went to say goodbye to his beloved, especially that he had faith, but that day would betray him. And so I wanted to put his heart and iron sleep peacefully, but Debra no secret  to tell ...:

"Ludwig, do not abandon our own, we must have faith, and I understand what it is. Ludwig rested and then brought her hands to her, hugged her and kissed all over her face, covering her eyebrows, nose, forehead, mouth; his lips positions in the middle of it, wanted to feel her warmth and tell her he loved her and would miss a lot of pain. But there was no show weakness, he must be strong and not to complicate the farewell from North America. Mourn scared him, because he had forged the feeling, because his aching grief was deep and it was at an undetermined point, with great desire to hold her and kiss over his face.
So ever, it was unbearable, she would like to die in his memory and had to remember in the collective thinking of his family circle. Which it fits the feel shivers ideas with sensations, such as the best in its inherent upstart point.

It was hard, as if more than man Ludwig out the feminine side of himself. But irremediable was the end, eager poisonous reaper approached. Ludwig hugged her, kissed her and stroked her right breast ... saying: "Do not forget me ..." and so left. Then he wrote her, that madness had transformed her away, but the distance was prevented against carcinoma being all postponed.
To know he could not boil your blood heavy thinking, they were contracted muscles. When he relaxed, he saw back through the hatch of his head, the soul that was in an ****** tragic holocaust, where Eros tenaciously and rebellion dictated its laws. Ludwig slept, and consciousness became natural color, as if it were safer, eternally fresh and manufactured this dream a poem ...:  

" That one corresponding to the celebration,
I wish to reunite with enthusiasm and strength ...
touching eyes closed
the sad sky, the dry ground, dried flowers
and people backward habits.

As meaning if it takes itself ...,
is the meaning
although they are scattered
in flows oppressions ...
the animosity of delight just widow and desultory,
losses and more losses at the time of aging ...
and profits to appease others.

For more like,
there seems to be a big drop ...
the same credibility ...?
and setting as a feeling
remain imagination stationary.

As hard it corresponds to the body,
It is destroyed inside ...
and hardened thoughts
tears falling to the esophagus,
without recognizing either way.

Who the pace of living is customizable,
and no opportunity is lost ...
but growing and creative
rears its profile,
as an unforgiven mirage. "


    Have been and unrestless forms of peremptory perceive, and when it starts to wander in my solitude, transporting my sorrow with grief, wherever I go I will take silent and vivifying separation completes the probable brain, which lives and endures in avidity stamped man with his need to want the Lord's command that made me forge this creation .--- he told himself, as a witness epilogue of his poem, albeit as the cry to its essence it was about. Originally from the Ecologist City, where reigned the wise and calm, where he healed their diseases, which has dodged the putrefaction of their wounds, where you inhale the aroms most want and cordoned off its without a grave lack of soft and flowering odour.
To believe missing, do not be afraid and trust that will grab everything, that not a drop of air was not lost on her fingers, which will not fail to display their imaginative stuff Alma Mater.
With all their eating, you want to cure your bad like venereum, and would go into the hands of a counselor or a warlock who extirpated the curse. Heal her feet and hands to despair, to heal the memory of his thought that I seasoned and voluptuous breaks the veins of his caleter, which seems not of it like a dwarf be provided with a dagger will break their venal, and this to commit such surgery, he laughs loudly with garnets eyes, full of the worst evil.

And this way Ludwig Garroch, vague without fear of rags, without fear of hunger or the messiness, only idles so that someday I can walk on the water surface, leaving their hydrocentric footprints where plankton reverence their sense of pain, his infarcted heart , her long fingernails of violence.


TO  BE CONTINUED….
Under edition,  then under All...
DG Feb 2019
It smells just like her
It smells just like the woman who taught my mother to raise me
The woman who comforted me when it stormed
The woman who taught me to appreciate my German heritage
I miss her . . .
Gucci bloom smells just like my great-grandmother guys it’s freaky
Ciel Jan 2019
The coils on your head are the crowns
that were ripped from your ancestors' head.
The melanin in your skin is the reminder
of how the sun loved you when no one else would.
The stripes on your hips
are the representation of your growth.
The scars on your skin
are the proof that you won those battles.
So don't you dare be ashamed of them.
They make you who you are,
and you should be proud of it.
ross larson Jan 2019
I lived in a prison
my whole life
a prison made of invisible walls
they imprisoned
parts of me
so early that I did not notice it
until I was almost thirty
it is a prison that
has been handed down
generations
it is the prison that
is created when one believes
one must hide everything
because everything is flawed
and thus everything becomes flawed
nothing remains real
you loose yourself
in the process
of gaining recognition
by being whoever
they want you to be
until you can’t deliver
anymore
this is the day you break
and either dissolve
or pick up the pieces
and slowly become
who you were meant
to be
Ivy Collins Jan 2019
I have no mother tongue
No tongue to speak of
The scope of my mouth and ***** of my lips are dry with the sins of fruit

I have no country
No ground to lay my clothes
All I know of this raining world is the homelessness it gives me

I have no ancestors
None who have died on my back
The air that birthed me sunk into the sky with a ragged gasp

I have no one
Nothing
Ivy Collins Jan 2019
I am stone that erodes to powder,
I am milk that slowly turns sour,
I am a mountain pumped with bile,
I am a child laid on the Nile.

I am half-flesh and half-sutured skin,
I am alive in a pile of dead twins,
I am the last in a bloodline of likeness,
I am a stain on all that is righteous.

I am evidence of a timeless trope,
I am a product of vainglorious hope,
I am the epitome of hubris gone wrong,
I am a shell with nothing gone.

I am the infant locked away by Pride,
I am left to bear the tide,
I am the child with her hands pinned,
And I can’t be forgiven, for I haven’t sinned.
laura Dec 2018
I am from ***** Farmer candies
From old roller skates,
and falling apart jump ropes
From making up games,
rather than them being handed over.

I am from having to go to the neighbors house for the TV,
And from not getting one until 7th grade.
From the Milton Berle talk show,
that aired in the 50's.
From American Drama series,
such as Fireside Theatre starring Gene Raymond.
And from brunette Elizabeth Taylor,
and The Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

I am from “Waste not, want not,”
and “A penny saved is a penny earned.”
I am from Laura Lee Hope and the Bobbsey Twins.
From longing to be a nurse and becoming one.

In my heart, and 27 years in Milwaukee, Wisconsin,
those moments are kept,
Those memories may not seem very valuable,
but to me they are everything.
This is what came out of a long interview with my grandma
Essen Dossev Oct 2017
it was the second time

this month
catching the last metro
from Charlevoix
lugging my bike
and a poor night's misfortune
with sore feet

and thinking
about the lack of history
that lay beneath Montréal

how I longed for Sofia:
an underground museum
at every metro station,
the time there waiting
amidst the relics
like a tree growing
into its roots

but here on the platform
of Lionel-Groulx
with its gaudy orange
60s bathroom tiles
I must occupy myself,
and so I reminisce about
how some numbers
make me feel

how 6875 reminds me
of what I’ve been putting off
and 5359 used to be my go-to
and 777 brings me cheer
and 888 was supposed to be
somehow luckier
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