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MU May 2017
When it comes to big decisions
We often don’t want to decide
Because we have some motives to hide

We don’t want to share them
Because we are afraid
Of what might be said

We are afraid
Of people who have power
Over our feelings and thoughts
Who’s bad opinions about us
Feel daunting

Or because us not wanting
The expectations of others
To be lower

We are afraid
Of not appearing perfect
And pretend that nothing has it effect
On our decisions, thinking,
And emotions

We are afraid
Of digging deep
Finding something that creeps
The hell out of us

Were are afraid
Of searching
Because the path
Long and steep
Might lead
To our ugly truth
As dark as an abyss

But its amazing
Why the most difficult thing
For us to understand
Is ourself
When we are with ‘it’ a lifetime
When we can hear it think
Feel it feel
Watch it change

It makes we wonder
What we were doing
All this time,
Beside not understanding ourselves?

It makes me think
What worth have all these shelves
Of books and diaries and pictures
If they don’t help us figure out
Who we are?

It makes me ask
What value traveling so far
Around the world has
If it doesn’t make us
Tackle the ultimate task:
To understand
Were we stand
From accepting
Our essence
That Justifies
Our presence

The wise keep repeating
Know yourselves...
But we keep deceiving

Yet the most important thing
When dealing with ourselves is
Not to lie
The most important question
To ask ourselves is
*“Who am I?”
A semi-poem half-prose that I wrote yesterday when thinking about my current situation and that of several people I am in touch with.

Its odd, but sometimes several people, including myself, go through the exact situation at the same time, and need the exact same realisation:

I seems that the roots of most of our problems go back to lying to ourselves and not knowing who we really are...
Äŧül Feb 2017
I will be happy with her.

Loving her day & night,
On the bed or in the lounge,
Venice like environment,
Electrifying my nerves.

Your memories do not let me live,
Over the cliff we will fall freely,
Usurper of our smile will stay away.
My HP Poem #1441
©Atul Kaushal
At first I thought that will she ever be mine
My thoughts said yes she will be
Gradual were the thoughts
Mellow was the love
Then with a gesture it all became a hipe
I wanted her, I wanted to be hers
She was the one who could hold me
She was the one who could tell me
Yes I was the one
Infinite looked the time
Gestures were getting stronger
Finally a day came when it changed
She was having chaos and the mystic answers to those chaos were only with him....
She will be yours the mind the heart whispered again and this time they were together...!
Sean Hunt Aug 2016
‘Inception’ implies
Much more
Than the word
That is commonly heard
When we dig deeper
This well has no bottom
Dive like a swan
Into that pit
And you’ll not find
The end of it
Aditi May 2016
Why am I supposed to wake up,
When the dawn of light,
Does little to drive
The darkness far off?

Why, does the path I travel on,
Mockingly asks me
Where my destination is,
When mY feet won't carry on

Like the sand,
That escapes through the palm of a kid
Scattered everywhere
Lays my dreams.

Tried to write a new beginning,
But the tears of past
Washed away
Every hope that my words weaved.

The world is a step away, they claimed
Why did mine limit to the few lines of my fate
How I wish I could have made them understand
But the ink of grief often remains unread

How am I supposed to be at peace with these chains
When they Pierce my wings farther every second
Why am I supposed to pull a brave face
And believe all this hurt could only mean love.

Why am I supposed to wake up
And live through this life,
Like a puppet
And watch him pull the strings,
As He pleases.
It is okay not to always be okay
It is liberating, to sulk in your misery,
once a while
shed a tear, it only clears your vision.
Erin Mar 2016
These scars upon me, are part of a story, about the time I danced with death,
I took his outstretched hand and he swore to take away my breath
With brilliant twisted tempo, his feet moved in time with mine,
Against his body, he smelt like sweet poison and whispered "my dear you are divine"
He vowed to give me purpose, promised he wouldn't leave my side, people will remember he laughed "the girl I took as mine"
"Do not blame yourself" he soothed "your heart was far too weak"
I will give you a beautiful end and grant the release you seek
My mind grew very weary but my heart would fight once more
I said "I cannot let you win dear death, it's time to end this war"
Through battles I escaped him, these scars my living proof
He still craves the life I promised him and vows to one day be my noose
So as you look upon my scars, it is not shame I feel
But pride that though I danced with death, I prevailed and did not yield
Sean Hunt Mar 2016
Oh no
This can't be happening to me
Oh no
It's not the way it should be
Oh no
It doesn't fit with my plan
Oh no
It's not the way it began
Oh no
I heard a teaching from a special being a few years ago and he said that whenever we say 'Oh No! this is very silly :)   It is a non-sensical and useless denial of our appearing reality, and  implies a denial of responsibility which is untrue and extremely counter-productive
Lastuxedo Sep 2015
One could know from a look,
     that his eyes belonged to thousands
         and they all belonged to him

And she could tell from a look
    that he would continue to **** thousands
        at only her every whim

So they took to the mansion
    dark and daunting to the temptation
        to throttle, to lay claim to fear

As all who came across him
    knew he was something to behold
        kindlessness engineered

And the darkness that was them
    corrupted the darkness of the world
        gathering it forever close

Her pet, her protector, sure
    His queen, his beautiful master
        an unlikely pair at most

Within him were a myriad of hearts
    his own swallowed by the endless hoard
       her demands, a beacon home
Resonating with his madness
If it weren’t for him and all his souls
    she wouldn’t have stood a chance
        she would have been alone...
In the darkness.
Just a little fangirling going on here and turning it into some practice. ._.
Satyan Sharma Aug 2015
I am a drop.

No, smaller than that,

I am half a drop.

Nah, even smaller,

I am a molecule.

Not yet, zoom out a bit more.

I am an atom, right?

How ‘bout a nucleus?

Proton is a better option.

Or perhaps something,

Smaller than a proton,

Or any subatomic particle?

What’s the smallest?

Is the smallest really the smallest?

May be fifty years,

Or hundred years from now, or more

Would there be a new smallest,

I think that would be me.

The ‘me’ in front of the all pervading sky

The all pervading hostility of this universe,

Or perhaps of a multiverse.

Far would be destroyed my glory,

By even a minute of such an imagination,

My blown up ego would be blown up.

Gone is my glory,

blown up is my blown up ego,

humbled am I.

Neither a king,

Nor even a slave,

who am I?

how would I know?

when would I know?

when could I perceive,

without ‘me’ at the centre?

without ‘me’ seeing ‘me’?

perhaps never,

perhaps sometime!

Am I a ‘who’?

Or am I a ‘what’?

How does it even matter

In front of all the existence?


What if I am the biggest?

Bigger than the mountain

Bigger than the sun

Bigger than this galaxy

Or even the universe?

What if I am the universe or the multiverse,

and kept from knowing it?

Ah! what a mystery!

Humbled am I

In front of the great mystery

Of not ‘that’ or ‘this’

But of ‘I’.

So never ask me this;

Who are you?

For I shall go silent

and never get back to you.

Or shall I ever get back to you,

what a celebration would that be?

The greatest celebration of my life,

The greatest celebration of my being.


What if I don’t even exist?

Or I am just this & nothing else?

May be I am a chaos,

that seems to be ordered.

May be I am an order,

that seems to be a chaos.

May be I am both.

Or may be none.

When would I know the truth?

Or may be I know the truth,

Just pretending not to know it.

May be I am the truth,

seeking out my own self.

Or a lie,

pretending to be the truth.

May be I am all that I thought,

May be I am none.

May be all I just need,

is to take a nap,

and get back to work.
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