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S Bharat Apr 2019
The Peak of Success

The reason
My professor loved me
So much,
I thought there was
Something to be known.
When I asked him
To give its account,
He smiled and
Had something nice
To be shown.
He opened his diary then,
Some lines he sought.
Once you'd opined,
he said then,
It was the great thought
On the peak of success
(in your mind).
He continued his talk
And told the rest,
It shouldn't be having
The tip and cliff
Or that of the Everest.
A question you'd raised,
What if it is
The Table Mountain
And its land?
You meant, its crest,
Where everyone
Could stand.

S. Bharat
Michael Mar 2019
The Ninth Battalion (Australia)

By Sun-filled day and frosty night,
O’er rugged hills and desert sand,
We learned to work as teams, to fight
In jungles of another land.

From every city, State and town,
All the lovely countryside,
Impelled by grim war’s cold, bleak frown,
Gathered we at fair Woodside.

And some of us were volunteers,
But mostly we young conscripts were,
With youthful hopes, ambitions, fears;
Young men’s dreams of love were there.

And lusts, for we weren’t choir boys,
Nor simpering wowser, nor old maid.
We searched for brawling, drinking joys
And chased the girls of Adelaide.

Oh Adelaide, what wondrous pubs,
The Rundle, Gresham (Mind you Roy?),
The Western, Finden, all were hubs
Of social, sinful, youthful joy.

But scarce the city trips sublime.
Beneath the awesome stars our home.
And Sun-bronzed we became with time,
Leigh Creek, Cultana, ours to roam.

At Murray Bridge we fired our weapons, honed our drills;
Formed Section and Platoon at Humbug Scrub, and that was fun.
We dug-dug-dug to prove to them that be our skills,
And by night stood freezing piquet on the gun.

Canungra’s forest, where chilled to bone
We learned to ambush and by sudden flare to ****.
The Flinders Range, those hills of stone.
Shoalwater Bay did prove our skill.

And at the last and having passed our nation’s test,
(for some a final accolade)
And to that question answered yes,
We made farewell to Adelaide.

At Murray Bridge we fired our weapons, honed our drills;
Formed Section and Platoon at Humbug Scrub, and that was fun.
We dug-dug-dug to prove to them that be our skills,
And by night stood freezing piquet on the gun.
annh Apr 2019
Wind to the west,
From the east blows cold,
Bringing tales of lost ships,
And sailors of old.

Wind to the east,
From the west blows warm,
Carrying the promise of summer,
And friendships reborn.

From the north and the south,
Opposing forces collide,
Threatening snow in September,
And gales in July.

But here in the centre,
Is where I like best,
Where the air is familiar,
And my heart is at rest.

For here in the centre,
Is where I call home,
Many miles from the places,
Where the winds do roam.
‘A breeze will always blow in the direction it wishes to go,’
Anthony T. Hincks
Lois Jairam Mar 2019
The Capital of the Pearl of the Orient Seas,
Owned by hypocrisies,
of every Rich Family,
Where most are Slave of Poverty,

Oh! The Pearl in the Pacific,
Once Magnific,
But its history became Horrific,
Now filled with Wild Traffic,

Ye! The Orient Sea!
Shall also belong to Thee,
For Everybody,
For Tension to flee,
Jenna Feb 2019
Blades scrape across calves
Itching, irritating,
Children shout and laugh
Imitating, inviting,

Warmth burns and bakes
Igniting, inflicting,
Rippling shadow cast South
Imprinting, imposing,

Yellow dandelions stand tall
Intermixing, inclining,
Brief, cool wind tickles
Invading, inducing
I miss the warm weather. Hate the cold.
Star BG Feb 2019
I look to the East and with deepen breath,
free my soul inside love.
I look to the West and with dancing steps,
free my soul inside dreams.
I look to the South and with open eyes,
free my soul inside visions.
I look to the North and with hearts song,
free my soul as my mind follows.
Free Mind thank you for inspiring me
Northern Poet Feb 2019
Up north
There's this thing called queuing
Down south
It looks more like ******* looting
I can see the trouble brewing
Squeezing on the tube – can't even get my ******* shoe in
Some of these miserable ******* look like they need shooting
Stuck on the northern line back to Tooting
Shlomo Feb 2019
The scale of my ambition.

It’s getting too large to construct on my own.

Like many Africans, I’ve had enough.

News coverage showcasing this region.

Does nothing but reinforce the legion that you bring forth.

Continuously.

Now, I’ll spare you the analogies and set it out clearly.

To all those that are out to “end poverty”.

I applaud your initiative, your drive and determination.

So bear with me as I lay into you. I’m doing it out of love. Trust me.

Whenever I hear your mission.

I think “here we go again with the bare minimums.”

Nothing but bare minimums.

I yearn to be part of a new breed of Africans.

Who want to do more than just end poverty.

What about all those who have escaped its deathly grip.

But still live precarious and unfulfilled lives?

My mission is to build an empire.

To empower. To nurture innovation and prosperity.

One that surpasses anything you could ever imagine and conceive.

If you think that’s ridiculous and absurd.

Wait till you see how I plan on going about this deed.

If I hear another **** politician talking about “ending poverty.”

I swear I’ll ******* snap.

But don’t worry, it’ll just be a picture.

One more to my growing catalogue.

Reminding me of your never-ending plan of world *******.

“So remember guys, bare minimum. Say it with me.

“Bare minimum.”
Sorry if I hurt your feelings. That's not my intention. I'm just as passionate about this as you are.
https://soundcloud.com/shlomotion/the-ubiquitous-boy
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