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but couldn't
the sky, but
when I can
reach for the
stars ✨
and dive
in the
moon, my
wish is
swim in
the pool
the clouds.
with the
Oh my
thought  in
the air
so fly high
in my
atmospherical wish.
They say these is a esthetic.
you really
find it
Beautiful clouds
Wonderful heavens
Quite amazing world.  

the initial purport
     this literary effort delivered atchew
to reed constitutes hazmat tocks sin
     within White House blew
per, viz thee president be

     getting a Hollywood love story
     with "Stormy Williams" despite brew
haha murmur, now dapper Don in deep doo doo
thus, this garrulous married pro LIX prone papa flew
off (like a bat out of hell)

     to his Macbook Pro laptop presenting myself
     implicating Trump as po' faux guise Mister McGoo
affiliated, confused, and explained
     being on par with Winnie the Pooh
especially stuck right tub bear arms in grr...

     Rabbit's House, now he doth stew
nsync, nonetheless this path a logical
     rhyme stir on the straight and true
composeing grist sill for ye to view

now, nar hating, hit ting
     private links provide attention turned toward
two thousand twenty presidential election campaign
     no Iron nee, anno putter opportunity,

how he diplomatically strived, and nearly scored
     to boast asthma, overt braggart, stalwart
     asper ideal consistency of cement poured
affiliation, aggregation, and attestation moored
prevails ma (Jack booted - magical) lord

     rolling back to Timbuktu progressive liberal
     Democratic initiatives star Apprentice
     sans ("NO LIES") being linkedin, he almost ignored
with voluble chattering class hud hoard

hobnobbing (with the likes of Missus Muir's ghost,
who resort to Matthew Scott's turf brand),
reconstituted, recycled, and repurposed, gourd
nonetheless Trumping protocol necessitates me bing bored
predictable feigned "FAKE" non accord.
less than twenty four hours after dashing off a poem
   explaining why i wanted to die
found me experiencing physical duress vis a vis,
   a bowel movement wherein waste unable to expel

   from the **** of this guy
which bout with ****** obstruction
   found me doubled over
   with lower abdominal distress

   whereby comfort found me unable to lie
down nor sit upright (with back padded with pillows
   against the cellar brick wall),
   thus severe bloating a bonus well nigh

and managed to muster the means to bare
   frigid arctic vortex aire to purchase
   the Acme brand Metamucil,
   which akin to drano doth ply
thru the excretory tract
   supposedly loosening the stools,

   which optimism (product
   didst earn claim to fame) generated a sigh
if that expressed intent
   to cease livingsocial would try

humph enjoining
   this lvii year old married male
   to cede victory
   to the grim reaper, who would vie

as winner de jure
   to this common fellow invoking libretto
   ohm resistant understudy waste not want not
allowing, enabling and providing relief,
   without successful defecation

   despite the oppressive urge to bolster this uriah
heap of balled up and tuckered i.e. pooped out
   five foot and ten inches of lovely bones
   thence mouthing retraction
   of former thought to cease existing,

though a non-bull lever
   in any power broker qua mankind
   relief at long last
   provided posterior answered prayer
   yet, this scrivener scrutinizes
   his recurring pain in the *** jagged torture
   and asks
   a rhetorical one word question "WHY"?
Àŧùl Feb 2017
It is the feeling of having previously met,
Not necessarily as a professional vet,
Dairy animals mooing to attract.
My HP Poem #1426
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Feb 2017
Come on buffalo,
Open your mouth,
Of your oral cavity,
Let us collect some tissue,
And let us collect some saliva too,
And then we test for some trefoils,
Fingers crossed – let the expression be true.

It has got to be there,
We know it for humans,
But of buffaloes, we know not,
Let us perform a preliminary study,
There has not been much research,
There is just a foggy, hazy oversight,
Scientific charm – the expression is positive.

Molecular markers in the electrophoresis unit,
Mixed with a visualising dye – the ETBR,
Yes, they will dance positively as expressed,
Against 400 base pairs expressed are the TFFs,
Tough to master this technique moderately is,
We have to take numerous precautions,
Especially with the poisonous visualising dye.
A poem about my work plans.
We are aiming to isolate the TFFs from buffalo oral cavity this time.

My HP Poem #1416
©Atul Kaushal
Evna-Luna Dec 2016
Mystical Goddess of Night times
Queen of the caliphets
Daughters of the Caribean blue
As days did mark quarters
As lilies did spark waters
As rain lit the hydrosphere
And green fit the atmosphere
As oceans falls beckoned on MĔ

And open floors endowed the ŚĔÁŚ

And the moon thrilled a beguiling dark
And the beam filled a bewildering black
I call on the gods beneath the seas
Heed me to a wavering ŦÁĹĹ

Mystical daughters of the hereafter
I become the waters that flow endless
I become the rain that melts the patch
I become the tussles of a million ŴÁŤĔŔ

I swivel and swim through an unseen world
And when darkness falls,
I stand
I watch
From a scoring cosmos above
I render the sea blue
Glowing from an encapsulated moon
Tearing all obstacles
I am Luna
Queen of the Moon
I bewitch the night with my mesmerizing glow
And when time flips away,


ĎĔČ 11 2016©
Poetic T Sep 2014
The Frog was doing his thing
In to any water that he could see,
He happened upon
This Jigsaw of black and white
Morning sir, he croaked
The Cow looked down,
Pardon I didn't quite get that,
Your on the tastiest grass
Below your webbed feet,
"Sorry sir,"
Didn't wish to stomp on your
Lunch with my feet,
So he hoped along, as Frogs do
Then turned around,
Hopped his best, speed built up
Leaping with all his might,
Over the Cow,
Then gracefully on to his feet,
"Cow turned"
Whhhat are you doing little thing,
As the Frog
Replied, I was seeing if I could
Jump over you
Would you do such a thing,
Well mum told me
A Cow jumped over the moon,
Yes we do
Replied Cow
Famously Are we for doing this,
Feat never seen.
"Frog replied"
Riibit, well I just jumped over you
So now I an the best jumper it seems,
Out loud with a MMOOooo
You aren't a better jumper than me,
We will see little Frog said
With that he did a
Over the Cow once again it seemed,
Now it is your turn
As Cow looked on nervously
So he hooved his feet
With that he tried
Lost his balance,
And in to another's Cow pat
His face did meet.
Now the cow was not only
But now he was
Like poo, embarrassed
Was he
The Frog did laugh
Ribit, Ribit, Ribit,
Loud and clear,
Cow looked at frog,
Now Cow do you see,
Never believe what you hear,
Until you see it with your own eyes,
This is what my mother read to me,
And with that, Frog bounced off happily.

— The End —