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kiran goswami Apr 2019
And I looked inside that well today,
I saw a hologram of water.
Beneath which I heard the deafening silence.
The silence, which screamed too loudly to be heard.
I looked around and I saw,
Scarlet Gangas flowing from every body that was thrashed.
I saw a mother, holding her son,
Tight enough to suffocate him,
Strong enough to let no bullet touch him.
I saw tiny hands shielding their father,
Hoping,
Maybe,
Just maybe,
They could save him.
I saw two hands entangled,
Even death applauded for love before wrapping it.
I saw them covering each other
Praying,
Maybe,
Just maybe,
Someone could save them.
But their Gods were sleeping,
And now they are.
I looked inside that well again,
And I saw nothing but opaque water,
Beneath which I heard nothing but the deafening silence.
I looked around and I saw,
Flower bed on the soil,
Paying tribute to the mourning place.
A tribute to the jallianwala Bagh massacre
Jenny Gordon Apr 2019
Feigning since I'd freshly painted nails and was going out after dinner to poetry class that I didn't care that he hasn't talked to me...



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCLIII)


The fragile ghost of mists likeas a veil
'Non gathers in the waning light fr'intents,
As puddles shiver to rain's dimples hence,
And how the clock declares work's done, to scale.
Whileas the timer counts last minutes' tale,
I do a sassy dance, and sparrows thence
Go silent as I play out sans defense
Was it a naughty thought lo, sans erm, bail?
O how the firs now whisper hoarsely through
This freighted calm as I serve dinner fer
Us three, and carry that big soup *** (poor
For just us few?) 'non to the table, to
Dish out his bowl and mine, rolls too in tour
With butter, marmalade as fog yet'd woo.

04Apr19f
Well, I did see a line the following day saying something like, "It's okay to be silly"--like, I didn't need permission, thank you.
Sim Apr 2019
perhaps I was only a tribute to your pride
perhaps you sought refuge in moments of raw desire
perhaps the nobility of loving was too much to ask for.
Chris Apr 2019
The calm little town, the green sleepy fields,
The linden wore a flowery crown,
The suns rays in the east, the night comes to yield,
The moon in the sky, it slowly goes down.

As the spring awakens with cold water drops,
A sound in the distance sings of some unrest,
The world seems so distant from the mountain tops,
Something woeful comes for people of the west.

Loud as thunder, quick as sand,
A dozen horses breathing flames,
They have come to quake the lands,
With cloaked horsmen without names.

Growling curses, shouting orders,
In a strange and foreign tongue,
Horsmen rallied unnamed soldiers,
Half a hundred men, and strong.

Doors were shattered, mothers screamed,
Horses made unholy noise,
Daggers blazed and fire gleamed,
As they took the first born boys.

They will train them, tey'll be the same,
Strong as bears and without fear,
They'll lose their home, they'll have no name,
The god wills they carry spears.

One day they will come back,
To the town, where they were born,
To the green fields and they'll attack,
The mothers from whom they were torn.

O, it was many, many a year ago,
And not manyremember,not many care.
And noone really, really knows,
But the linden tree over there.
*The Blood Tribute(danak u krvi)- The Turkish soldiers during a certain time in medieval period took non-Muslim male  children aged (i think) 5-12 and carried them away to become elite soldiers, loyal to the Ottoman empire, this was practiced in order to break people into submission and prevent rebelions. These elite ground troops were known as Janissary and they were fearless and merciless on the field of battle.
A Simillacrum Mar 2019
Chants in droning, layered voices
spin around me as the portal whips and swirls.

Vision leaves for blindness, then
returns again in purple tunnels, bending, twisting.

My mind appeals to enlightened reason
as a pain begins to escalate.

Somehow, I know the feeling coming,
and this one, I do not want to come.

My feathers and my skin, then reject
my body in its whole. I feel it peel away.
Aniket Shirodkar Mar 2019
Long Long in the distant wood
A crippled man by the river stood


He wished to create a life where
Roses are red, violets are blue
And the sunshine heals all his wounds


3 friends pointed to seek a space
Where transformation is the name of the game


He decided to play and give it a shot
After all what choice has he got


At the rendezvous, a sage emerged
Three and a half days he gave his word


The rosy picture he came to seek
Was shattered before he took a peek


After all water is wet, rocks are hard
A blank canvas stood before him
With a possibility of new colour and art


The truth dawns as he exits the forest gates
He must go to Chandanwadi where Moti awaits


Long Long in the distant woods
A stupid, idiot by the river stood.
Jenny Gordon Mar 2019
THIS:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jCHL9b6nBXA



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCII)


Watch Paul McCartney's erm, debut of thence
That soulful number "Yesterday." and they'll
What, eh?  If's not the song itself t'avail,
How 'bout John Lennon's snide remark for sense
To Ringo, was't?  As if there was fr'intents
This rivalry which could not in betrayl
Be satisfied to have Paul up (sans bail?)
Alone on stage where all the girls cooed hence.
As if they did not cry for John in tour,
And that by name, he must begrudge it too?
I'm just a child in sheer compare as twere,
Yet "all grown-up" now to effect, see through
Their boyish ways and fall in love, though's poor.
While "Yesterday's" notes never fail to woo.

22Mar19b
--what I prefer about the full performance over this mere clip, is the tiny details, ie all John's behaviour.
The Full Performance:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EE11Zp_KWtg  
The Beatles Blackpool Night Out, ABC Theatre, Blackpool, United Kingdom (Full Performance)
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