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Aneesh H Jan 2020
Be like the Ocean - majestic, serene, resilient;
Accepting all, rejecting none.

Calm, Vast, Ageless, Timeless, Guileless:
Unto that source where all rivers become One.
The majesty and calm of the ocean has had a humbling effect on me,  each time I witnessed the ocean.  

It is said that the ocean is the true source of all rivers.  All major human settlements right from Egyptian, Indus Valley Civilization were borne on river banks. Thus,  rivers have sustained humanity since forever.

The source of all rivers,  it is said by the learned, in reality,  is the ocean: the ocean might also be their destination.  

I dream of a day when our hearts become as large as that of the ocean,  free of discrimination and deceit,  full of acceptance with no exception.
Aneesh H Jan 2020
What unspoken grief
Have you hid in your depths?
What reply do you seek
That, you visit the shore
as a recurrent wave, incessantly?

What is it that you look for?
Bowing down your mighty self
To a shallow wave that wets my feet
And the sand underneath

You roar in fulsome furore
Yet grieve in silence
I cannot fathom
The depth of thy grief-
You are borne out of your own tears
The ocean is majestic, serene. It is also deep that we don't truly know what it has hid in its depths. Metaphorically, I imagined the sea (or ocean, I am using it interchangeably) to be a living organism, nurturing numerous beings, and one without bounds. But, what feelings would an ocean or a sea have. Did it hold a lot of anguish inside, or was calm on the inside as it did show outside? Would an ocean cry to show its grief? Would its tears be distinguishable from its being? Would we be able to see, if it cries?
n jacobs Sep 2019
Have you ever had that moment?
You’re standing on the mountain peak, for that one moment.

For that one moment, I can almost hear angels singing,
I can see the true beauty.

And it isn’t just the vast sky above me dotted with clouds,
It isn’t just a waterfall, or a desert scene of hot white rock,
Or majestic tress standing tall as to say, “I am”.
Or the stars coming together with their mother moon to almost dance in the twilight,
And say, “I am here, and so are you, and this is IT.”

It isn’t just as if I’m walking, down a long dirt path,
Lined with fireflies, and the sweet breeze accompanying me like
An old friend that I never met but somehow know.

It’s something to do with the birds chatter, and the child’s laugh,
The bliss of some sort of innocence, a lack of need for things
That I can have, but don’t bring me above the mortal, material, mundane.

No real understandable words, nothing really sets it off,
But it goes, as a shooting, pure assemblage
But its followed by deep chills, and some surrenderance upward.
Some serene, almost lonesomeness,
Yet accompanied by all the souls of the world.

I’m not self, but everything,
For one fraction of timelessness

and it’s almost like it all makes sense
It's set off by the scene of nature, and brings a split second of chills and unified peace.
Lu Aug 2019
Poets are people,
who can express their thoughts and emotions,
through words, in the most beautiful way.
ogdiddynash Jul 2019
preface.  
majestic adjectives of contrary harmonies,
adverbs in adversity that modify our satisfactions,
gut punch our eyes, scramble the taste buds,
now inoperable, incapacitated to distinguish
what is disturbed - what is sweet - what is impossible.
my days ending is nearer to my god than thee,
the crumblings of what I’ve got left,
stale panko crumbs,
here come they in 1000 radium-tipped projectiles of
serious humorous self-destruction,
gifted to you few itinerant followers
brave enough to follow me into the deeps of
radioactive incomprehension,
in no particular disorders
a thousand times
Desire Mar 2019
Mates mingle, mash, and match,
a mystery so miraculous.
A magical manifest of our
majestic and marvelous Maker.
Magnetize and magnify,
making it magnificent,
modest, meticulous,
measuring each minute's bliss.
Movies and moonlight,
moments made to memorize.
Memories that mesmerize,
meant to last a millennium.
[Lifetime]

matches-made-in-Heaven

@desire.is.dope­
20190323
0542HRS
MARRIAGE
@desire.is.dope
20190323
0542HRS

Inspired by: the Hewitts
Shahlaa Medina Feb 2019
I am a rainbow
The product of the rain and sun
Majestic elements
You ran to find my *** of gold
Eagerly searching
Though you were too greedy
Because you missed my vivid colours
And captivating curves
Now I disappear
And you are left wishing
I have always loved rainbows, and after a heartbreak I realised my worth and I am a rainbow, full of life and colour, the product of the good and the bad, the rain and sun, happy always.
Badshah Khan Feb 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 52

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

On your chosen road towards your noble destiny,
Your chosen road may look like a majestic peak,
You may not discover the familiar path from the below,
But there is consistently a possible path above the majestic peak,
You naturally need to climb and see properly by yourself!

On your chosen path you will typically encounter with those,
Who are positively a unholy and a dear saint, each and everyone will;
Naturally direct you diverging the path in many possible directions,
Towards your noble destiny, if you are mystified or undoubtedly lost
Then rest and hold your breath and listen politely to your noble heart!

Listen carefully towards your almighty creator who heartens your dear soul,
He, the specific one who certainly cause you walk, naturally make you climb;
And undoubtedly discover the unknown path above the majestic peaks,
Who divinely revealed the moral truth about the dear saint and wicked to you.

Carefully hold your faith firm and walk towards your noble destiny.
Remember keenly, every noble destiny promptly provide a direct path.
And every chosen path gratefully acknowledges an ultimate end.

Either it’s yours or mine!

Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
Poetic T Jan 2019
We are woven in the majestic
                      verses of past voices.
Made silent by time,
           but etched within the fallen trees
that hold these voices
                                      within them.

For every moment is a page turned.
           A collection of reflections that
                                             when read,
collect within a picture  
           of every ballad concealed within.


So many compassions of emotion are bonded
                                                 within sentences.
When a tree falls it makes no sound.
But the words its carries afterwards,
make those inspired to reach higher
                            any branch that soared before it.
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