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My Dear Poet Sep 2021
When counting numbers on a dice
there’s always one number you can’t see
If 5 is on the right, a 1 on the left
then the bottom under, may be a 3
A simple trick
to guarantee if its really true
is if, the side facing up
is clearly the number 2
Unless, the value fixed
at the top is a 6
then, you’ll know for sure
the number under, out of view
is most definitely a 4
You can’t change facts even if hidden from plain sight by a random guess.
Rama Krsna Aug 2021
is it me or did i not see
naughty cupid shamelessly flash
his flowery bow and love-dipped arrow
straight at me?

smitten,
i see her falling eyelash,
  only witness
to that seductive gaze
which freezes amaranthine ‘time’
down to absolute zero.

seldom bound
by conventions or clocks,
i, the sage smile....
knowing her playful side
and the true nature of whimsical cupid.


© 2021
modern rendition of the  story of shiva and kama-cupid
Asuzx Aug 2021
Today is pain
If today comes after yesterday.

Today is imperfection
If today comes before tomorrow.

What illusion of time are you stuck in?
Time does not exist.
noura Aug 2021
That unforgiving metal.
Within that unforgiving metal lies all the things you cannot forgive about yourself.
Those freckles on your chin that you wish would expand into a constellation so that you may give them names and so that you may give them meaning,
within that unforgiving metal.

The Greeks threw their hands towards the heavens
and deemed cosmic accidents worthy of the names of gods,
although within them lie no gifts.
Like a bedazzled and jaded Tiresias impostor one stumbles upon
on their way home,
who sees nothing but the tangible
and tells all but the truth.
Still, he is clad in diamonds and gold
and thus has value in trade.
Beauty triumphs over mendacity
and mendacity over reality.

But the freckles that mar your skin,
that you cannot transfigure into the most meaningless of stars or the crudest of answers,
sit there defiantly,
waiting to be acknowledged and waiting to be named.

You lean your forehead forward to rest against the cool smoothness of its idle twin.
You could swear you saw her sneer at you.
The freckles do not budge—they will consume you whole.
It's true that my heart
was never free without you.
But who else cares now,
after all, life is what we live by ourselves.
Even caring is just an illusion.
Even though we once shared one hope, it turns out that only one of us always gets a share.
O mercy turned into ruins,
those who were once one are now scattered.
I don't mean to say this,
but why don't we live in many points of view.
Can't we just use it however we want?
It's unfortunate that they always follow the mob.
Happy are those who have their own way.
Indonesia, 17th August 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
My Dear Poet Aug 2021
Between the beautiful chaos and confusion
among the truth and the illusion
She only allows you up her sleeve
Mitch Prax Aug 2021
I have created
another illusion of
connection to you

9:40 PM
12/8/21
Rama Krsna Jul 2021
riding his cosmic bull
the cosmic dancer
rattles his cosmic drum.....

wearing
only a serpent around his neck
as his cosmic garland,
he silently ponders.....

is it time yet for cosmic dissolution?

cosmic dust from that annihilation
to be worn as a cosmic emblem on his forehead,
sending a stark reminder
that the cosmos and all the games played within,
are his and his alone


© 2021
Asuzx Jul 2021
What do you feel when I hold your hands and look deeply into your eyes?
Is that love?

What do you feel when I kiss your lips and gently wrap my tongue around yours?
Is that love?

What do you feel when you let go of your fears in the heat of the night?
Is that love?
True love is real.
Special love is an illusion.
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