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Ashwin Kumar Sep 2024
You are the reason I smile
Every time I happen to fail
Because, when I think about you
I know all hope isn't lost yet
And I can even beat the worst ever Monday blues
Your never-say-die spirit is tough to beat
Even when it comes to someone like Rahul Gandhi
It's what makes you such an awesome poet
Not to mention, a bestselling novelist
A truly intersectional feminist
And last but not the least
One of the fiercest anti-caste activists
Of course, I know you haven't even properly met me
However, you have made an impact upon me
Which is utterly impossible to forget
Really, I have to admit
You have made me think more positively
And act more independently
Which has done wonders for my mental health
Also, have you taught me to keep up the faith
Even when I have been at my nadir
Therefore, is it no wonder
That you are an inspiration to one and all
Thanks to you, even when we fall
We know how to rise again
And smile through our pain
You are a powerful voice of change
In a country that is thoroughly resistant to change
You speak what most of us are afraid to speak
And inspire even the meek
You call a ***** a *****
Your keyboard is the sharpest blade
Finally, you awaken those who are asleep
And give a red alert to those who are merely pretending to sleep
You know, whenever you enter my mind
I feel a quiet but fierce pride
Certainly, has God been kind
To present me with the opportunity
Indeed, a very very special opportunity
To come across such an incredible human being
Without whom, am I nothing!
May the Lord bless you with everything
Which you deeply crave for
Dear Comrade, please keep fighting and do take care
Jai Bhim!! Vaazhga Periyar!!
Dedicated to none other than Dr. Meena Kandasamy - the award-winning author, poet, translator, academic, intersectional feminist and anti-caste activist!!!
Unpolished Ink Sep 2024
Dylan boy,
lord of all the sleeping towns
the valleys and the mean little houses,
master of the flowering words,
like best bitter they flowed
dark and ripe and full to the top of the glass,
well worth the waiting for you were,
if the masses couldn’t see it
then they too were blind as moles,
you finished up your pint
and left us, empty
Dylan Thomas-who made me want to be a poet
Traveler Aug 2024
Your poetry is quite stunning, yes I do believe.
I love your quotes, your prompts, your personal histories.
I know you’re a creative and I know you have the keys.
That unlock the zone of all creation where our souls often meet…
Traveler 🧳 Tim
Norbert Tasev Aug 2024
I wonder what it will be like in the future, standing in the ring of what can be called polite handshakes believed to be respected, among the profane self-seeking attempts, groping glances, when everyone already thinks they can do whatever they want. While the inner soul sheds its rain-smelling crocodile tears and finally moves out of this earthly existence?!

After repeated compliments, the sole, insidious goal of which is the all-encompassing bed scene, the unconditional culmination of Everything. Even the golden and heroic ages - if they existed - are exalted only out of habit.

Among the raging daily grind and inhuman hunger wages, what will the miserable life of forty-year-olds, which they tried to scrape together for themselves, be like one day?! – What kind of cast will there be among the familiar faces?!

Again and again, everyone repeats the pathetic dog comedy around themselves for their own petty and hypocritical amusement. Self-important, boasting, and licking Alamus *****, he climbs the donkey ladder, jumping over the curses of successful and unsuccessful generations of donkeys.

And each of the babies stares at him, bewildered, in a barrage of brainwashed obsessions. Will the earthly metamorphosis of the vulnerable, human-smelling calvary and immortal lovers be recognisable? A cosmic comet-sphere beaming in the rose-scented holy glow of dawn, which got stuck halfway and then finally fell to earth?

Can we still find our way after so many self-inflicted, painful disappointments? In the manner of obsessed emotional frenzies, we even cling to the last straws, which we once approached with a humble heart!
Norbert Tasev Aug 2024
Because sooner or later, someone always returns to the houses. No one can yet know whether it is the betrayed husband, or the bohemian lover who holds a grudge, the diva lady who tries to hide her own girlish confusion by pretending to be a superficial, hysterical canary. So many questions and answers, to which we can rarely find proper, logical answers. -

The self-destruction that is so envied by many in the intoxication of LSD or ecstasy, in the usual ******-warfare, when the manipulation is no more than a transparent and definable chess game played by two competing parties, there are wild jerks who just like that fight with stone axes , and they fight, just like their hairy-backed ancestors did a million and one millennia ago.

The gravity of the Universe sooner or later pulls everyone along and pulls them down. Because everyone is locked in a lowly cage of minimums and pitiful deadlines, so that they can languish for a lifetime between the prison walls of careers. There will be no one to take a direct interest in the life of each person!

"Just tell me, my friend? Do you still have humanity left in your heart?!" - Lét manufactures and distributes hijacked, lousy end products, as if everyone can be recycled and replaced at the same time. Curses and actions that want to curse have become a daily headache because of indifference and lack he already measured us by the kilo, like straw puppet wrecks, and that's precisely why you can't look into the depths of crooked mirrors with impunity, because he is ashamed of himself whose grotesquely distorted reflection is wolf-eyed Apocryphal codes...
Saleh Ben Saleh Aug 2024
No words shall please my soul,
if not from deep within.
In life we laugh and weep,
as moods with time do spin.
Even a poet does need a flare,
to devise his ringy rhymes.
To sculpt a verse from solid words,
is a masters work, sublime.

When fine words mingle and mix,
with sweet lovely emotions,
a lady’s heart will surely yield,
without showing a notion.
Delightful words do cast a spell,
on people where they stand.
Being a charmer may pay your rent,
to the lady of the land.

No torrent is strong or tough,
to sweep a poets will.
And no drought is harsh enough,
to dry a poets well.
Eloquent words,
soft and smooth,
too far from being absurd.
When spoken loud,
they steal the show,
on every stage and stand.
Anais Vionet Aug 2024
The old poets haunt me
they taunt me from the shadows
following every keystroke I type -
they’re critical of phrases,
they demand narrower themes
and mock the very clichés they invented.

I remind these frightful spirits of how tenuous
life was, how I’m blindly living these experiences,
how prevalent desire is, how human it is to chase
the things we’re told will fulfill us, like goals and love.

I try and explain this Internet thing,
how the more copious my writings,
the more people it says are following me.
How I really don’t want to sound paranoid
but as hard as I try - I don’t see anyone.
.
.
Song for this:
Too Much Time On My Hands by Styx
Reelin' In The Years by Steely Dan
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 08.17.24:
Copious = plentiful, numerous, abundant
Ashwin Kumar Aug 2024
Were nothing to go right
You would show me the light
Because, are you a beacon of hope
Which doesn't allow anyone to mope
Really, are you that one person
Who manages to keep me sane
Even when I am surrounded by total chaos
You teach me how to find bliss
When I am trapped in a bottomless pit of despair
Thanks to you, am I able to bear
Even the worst of all situations
Much louder than your words, are your actions
You fight fire with fire
Never, do you put on airs
Underneath your hard outer shell, lies a rather soft interior
For your people, do you greatly care
Not to mention, are you extremely brave
So much is there about you, that I greatly love
You are among the greatest poets
Not to mention, the most fearless activists
About what our society thinks, you give not a ****
Even after receiving so much hate
You have shown not, any alarm
Rarely, do you take the bait
Even after endless provocation
And at the same time, you show not, any caution
Hence, by you, am I so inspired
That I feel less and less afraid
To speak my mind
Until I grow really, really old
May the Lord bless you, you fantastic human being
With anything and everything
Which you hold dear
Keep fighting, keep motivating and take care
Jai Bhim! Vaazhga Periyar!!
Yet another poem on my chief idol Dr Meena Kandasamy - one of India's best novelists, poets, translators, academics, intersectional feminists and anti-caste activists.
Jill Aug 2024
Now plenty of books. Redundant the quill
Queries well-sated; papyrus well-served
Journalist, poet, and dramatist still
Recumbent and smug, securely preserved
Smirk for the camera illustrious friends
Expressions freeze-frame, the genteel applause
Locutions abed, your industry ends
Settled profession contently withdraws
Troublesome confound? Don’t answer yourselves
All is deciphered, on parallel shelves

What innovation now possible here?
Planet post-poet not artist-constrained
Transmitting thinker nor analyst peer
Unburdened truth-sleuths repose addle-brained
Yet further books, birth ideas that birth more
Science yields questions more often than fixes
New voices surface as wave serves the shore
Shapes settled sandbars, produces admixes
Now plenty of books? The only rebuff
Plenty will never be plenty enough
©2024
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