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A trail of smoke rises,
A died down pyre,broken clay ***,
Crows eat scattered rice.
In Hindu funeral ceremony,which is largely symbolic a  terracota ***,symbol of mortal coil is broken by the son who leads the rituals.Crows eating the rice and eight other grains is considered suspicious.
Dream Fisher Nov 2019
What kind of protest do you accept?
In what way is anyone allowed to express?
Do you want a riot with blades and guns,
Police beating them back for fun
Shoot up the streets, let them run?
Broken glass smashed on the old store fronts
Holding signs to get beaten down
Like we all have a message,
Silence it before the media comes.

What if they kneeled for your flag
In respect to those who were treated unjust.
It's peaceful but you still kick up dust.
They push back to say all matter
But they don't see this white double standard.
How can you say who's oppressed
When it isn't your race being addressed?

They want to build walls,
I'm hoping to build bridges.
You're Asian, Latina, African, Muslim, religious?
You deserve every right I've got.
Don't let anyone stop you, come get it
Sincerely, a white man so they give me privilege.
That's messed up isn't it?
Ylzm May 2019
Can the *** ask the potter
why was it made a ***,
and not a bowl or pitcher,
or even a sword?
Can Excel appeal to Gates
that it wants to be Edge?
Or Huawei to God of Money
to appease the Yellow Devil?
The wind whistling, through the trees,
Your face tingling, in the sun beams,
The glimmer of raindrops, on wildflowers,
Beautiful clouds, filling the empty hours,
Grains of sand, trickling down,
to the bottom of the glass,
The scratch of the lighter, as you light your smoke,
and prepare to pass,
The longing desire, for the next inhale,
Keep the lighter ready, if the joint is stale,
Simple pleasures, fulfilling empty desire,
Twinkling eyes, gaze at the fire,
The weight has lifted,
it’s never been so light,
Another deep breath,
watch the joint glow bright,
The air has never, smelled so sweet,
This pine forest, is your new retreat,
Steady yourself, at the base of a tree,
For the first time, you are free.
"Grains of sand trickling down, to the bottom of the glass" the "glass" is an hourglass referencing to time which is mentioned more than one in this poem. It is a play on how we all are so worried about time and it going by too fast or too slow, but with one cloudy inhale we can stop worrying about it all together, and truly appreciate the little things. Little things like the sound of wind, the smell of trees, the glimmer of raindrops on flower petals.
Salmabanu Hatim Apr 2019
flowers dry
leaves fall of
an amazing potpourri.
14/4/2019.
You age.Your beauty and strength diminishes and children leave you.
But you still count grandmother aunt friend advisor ( frame, home wreaths, hangings).
Knit Personality Apr 2019
A skint ****** ape
that hacks a sack,
I dream asleep
& wide awake.

My third eye peers,
so ****** i'm rocked.
Half-baked ideas
are under-cooked.
IncholPoem Jan 2019
The  ***   is
in     ***.


That   ***  was
   in  potter's
bed  room.


What  will
           happen  ahead  !



Option--1
  
           Potter   will   sell
to  the
e-commerce  site
in  London  where
ban  is  continuous
for  pub's
selling.


Option--2

                  The  pet  can
                   die  due  to  lack
of  oxygen.

Option--3
  
                 Pet  was  to  be
                   poisoned  to   die
                  
                      due  to  huge
                      amount   of

                       insurance  coverage.
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