#manner
you talk the talk can,
you walk the walk
talk is a manner’s talk of manner
you talk the manner can you walk the manner
a man’s manner is a man’s moral
you talk the moral can you walk the moral
talking is a cheap moral
talking is a cheap manner
moral is a cheap talk
moral is a cheap manner
talking is cheap,walking is highly
talking is cheap,walking is highly walking
talking is highly talking
talking is highly a manner of talking
talking highly is talking cheap
talking highly is walking the walk
cheap is highly a cheap talk
walking cheap is talking cheap
walking cheap is walking the cheap walk
walking cheap is walking the cheap talk
talking is talking a cheap walk
Jul 22, 2022
Jul 22, 2022 at 2:34 PM UTC
Ill never write with the constructs
of ink no matter its shading,
as it has no edges, no fear or freedom.
Instead I use a scalpel to cut clean words
even though not evidentially visible
all cuts have meaning.
But ever metaphorical stain takes
time to show its meaning..
You may not see what I mean
i write in a different manner to
you.
But let time show the interpretation
that was there but never understood
till you looked beneath the incise significance
even if not seen now,
just realise its there...
Aug 19, 2020
Aug 19, 2020 at 5:55 PM UTC
“I lOve you”
Those words
d
r
i
p
p
e
d
from her lips.
I believed her deceitful manner, her charisma; it was alluring.
Jan 8, 2020
Jan 8, 2020 at 6:41 AM UTC
write the beginning of a
sentence in capital letters
mind the dots please.
you mustn't forget to finish a
sentence properly as
well as writing in accordance to
the given guidelines of
our faculty and its members
esteemed personalities who would never
forget a dot.
can you sense how i
talk and how i
take care
of my writing?
Nov 16, 2019
Nov 16, 2019 at 3:15 PM UTC
Her mouth twists into a smile.
A couple of hours later it becomes a frown.
It looks a little lopsided, doesn't it?
One arm is longer than the other; and faster.
But she doesn't care. Nobody does.
She smiles and frowns all day.
For she is but a servant tell,
the true master of the day.
Time.
It reaches out to us.
Tells us what to do and when to do it.
Time.
An age old foe.
For no one can escape it's cages.
Time.
A fabrication of the mind.
It traps us all in it's never ending orbit.
Time.
It's just like a dime.
Our future depends on how we use it.
Aug 29, 2019
Aug 29, 2019 at 11:34 PM UTC
I was told that
you do not like
my disjointed arms,
my geekish look,
my elongated legs,
my unruly manner.
I never knew
I am imperfect,
until you
pinpointed my
obviously beautiful flaws.
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 9:16 AM UTC
फंबाय-बिनानावमोन आं दिनै मानसिनि गोसोआ
माबादि खाना बेखौ नोँसोरनो खिन्थानि।
ओरैबादि दं जाय मानसिया
बेसादनि सायाव मेगन खोख्लैयो
बियो गुबुन आरो जेबोखौनो नुआ।
नाथाय ओरैबादि मानसिबो जाय माखौबा नुदोँ
बियो बेसाद होन्नाय
जेखौनो सिनाया।
फंबाय-बिनानावमोन फंसे बाथ्राखौ नोँसोर
खोनाबाय नङा ने?
'फिसा सिमां नुनाया फाफ'
भारतनि रुंग' हादरगिरि आरो सासे
बेसेबा गिदिर बिगियानगिरि
आब्दुल खालामा बुंदोँमोन बाथ्राखौ।
जोँ गिदिर मिजिँ लानांगौ, फिसा नङा।
सिमां नुनांगौ- बेखौ दाफुंनांगौ।
मानोना नोँ जेसे हास्थायो
बिदि नोँ मोनद्रायनाय नङा।
अब्लाबो जोँहा गिदिर सिमां; बिनि मिजिँआ थायोब्ला
गिदिर सिमांआबो नाजानायनि बोलोआव गावनो गाव फैयो।
सरासनस्रा मानसिया गासैबो जिरादखौनो मेगनजोँ नुयो
नाथाय बिसोरो ओरैबादि खाना थायोदि-
सासे आबादारि, थेला बोग्रानि
फिसाफ्राबोदि सासे दाक्टार जानो हायो।
सासे हादरगिरि जानो हायो
बेखौ बेसोर गोसोजोँ
सान्नोनो हाया।
जाय गोसो गियानजोँ सान्नो हाया
बिसोरखौनो गोसो खाना होन्ना बुंनाय जादोँ।
जाय उन्दै गेदेर सिनायनाबो,
गोरिब- हावरिया, खैफोद-आफोद नुनानैबो मदद होआ
बैसोर बादि गोरोँखौनो
गोसो जाम्बा एबा गोसो खाना बुंनाय जायो।
फंबाय-बिनानावमोन जोँ गोसोखौ बेमा
सोँहोनो नाङा।
बयखौबो नायनो सोलोँ,
बयखौबो अनसाय मानसि महरै
मानसिबादि गेदेमा आखल गियान दाफुं।
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 11:15 AM UTC
The careless page on lamp-stand resting,
With pure white the glow reflecting,
Catches the sore wand’ring stranger’s eye,
And keeps it there without a sigh.
He reads thereon a poet’s verses,
Sore reflecting many hearses*,
That should have rightly never rolléd,
Bearing corpses cowl- and hooded.
“Oh, the manner that he writes in!”
Thus the words that cross his cracking lips,
While tears run down to fill the rips.
Then eye, though dimmed, still struggling onward,
Next reads words that turn him upward,
Looking to the bright heav’nly places,
Where God with parted soul paces,
And—leaning down through clouds—soft touches,
Man’s heart so now again he blushes.
“What a manner that he writes in!”
*“What god-like genius inspires him so,
Such lofty heights to rise unto?
Do Muses bright surround him—ringéd
In fair halo slight and gilded?
Or warrior-like hews he his figures,
Out of flesh and blood by measures,
‘Til the beauty shining forth o’erwhelms,
All other mortal verséd poems?”
“Which the manner that he writes in?”*
Weary much from traveling afar,
The stranger sleeps him under star,
And as he dreams he sees the poet
—Yet in thought he does not know it--
Who sitting desk-bound looks about him,
Searching for poetic fountain;
And ne’er receiv’d he supernal* aid,
But from this life poetry made:
That broad noble brow in thought contracts:
The genius broods; his mind he wracks.
Then eye with pure, clear light shines—spilling
Evanescent* light, so thrilling,
And lip with rev’rent murm’ring carries
Sweet words to ear and gentle lays,
While pen—by trembling fingers wielded--
Marks the page to make sure-founded;
This, the manner that he writes in.
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 3:54 PM UTC