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#shorts
(L)ittle (I)ntervals (F)or (E)ver
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Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 7:09 AM UTC
LIFE
Death has been unkind in his murky, flowy form, teasing me endlessly and his laughter, I can't ignore.
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Oct 5, 2023
Oct 5, 2023 at 9:20 PM UTC
Death
you are my dreams’ reel frequent inhabiter rarely a bypasser feelings lost sight, almost
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Jun 8, 2022
Jun 8, 2022 at 10:19 PM UTC
you are
It's not Good, To be always Good.
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Nov 4, 2021
Nov 4, 2021 at 11:32 AM UTC
Goodness
अनुभव  के अतिरिक्त कोई आधार नहीं , परमेश्वर   का   पथ   कोई  व्यापार  नहीं। प्रभु में हीं जीवन कोई संज्ञान  क्या लेगा? सागर में हीं मीन भला  प्रमाण क्या  देगा? खग   जाने   कैसे  कोई आकाश  भला? दीपक   जाने  क्या  है  ये  प्रकाश भला? जहाँ  स्वांस   है  प्राणों  का  संचार  वहीं, जहाँ  प्राण  है  जीवन  का आधार  वहीं। ईश्वर   का   क्या  दोष  भला   प्रमाण में? अभिमान सजा के तुम हीं हो अज्ञान में। परमेश्वर   ना  छद्म   तथ्य  तेरे  हीं  प्राणी, भ्रम का   है  आचार  पथ्य  तेरे अज्ञानी । कभी  कानों से सुनकर  ज्ञात नहीं  ईश्वर , कितना भी  पढ़  लो  प्राप्त ना  परमेश्वर। कह कर प्रेम  की बात भला  बताए कैसे? हुआ  नहीं  हो  ईश्क उसे समझाए कैसे? परमेश्वर में  तू  तुझी   में  परमेश्वर , पर  तू  हीं  ना  तत्तपर  नहीं कोई अवसर। दिल  में  है  ना    प्रीत   कोई उदगार  कहीं, अनुभव  के अतिरिक्त  कोई  आधार नहीं। अजय अमिताभ सुमन
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Jan 25, 2021
Jan 25, 2021 at 2:00 AM UTC
ईश्वर का आधार
अनुभव  के अतिरिक्त कोई आधार नहीं , परमेश्वर   का   पथ   कोई  व्यापार  नहीं। प्रभु में हीं जीवन कोई संज्ञान  क्या लेगा? सागर में हीं मीन भला  प्रमाण क्या  देगा? खग   जाने   कैसे  कोई आकाश  भला? दीपक   जाने  क्या  है  ये  प्रकाश भला? जहाँ  स्वांस   है  प्राणों  का  संचार  वहीं, जहाँ  प्राण  है  जीवन  का आधार  वहीं। ईश्वर   का   क्या  दोष  भला   प्रमाण में? अभिमान सजा के तुम हीं हो अज्ञान में। परमेश्वर   ना  छद्म   तथ्य  तेरे  हीं  प्राणी, भ्रम का   है  आचार  पथ्य  तेरे अज्ञानी । कभी  कानों से सुनकर  ज्ञात नहीं  ईश्वर , कितना भी  पढ़  लो  प्राप्त ना  परमेश्वर। कह कर प्रेम  की बात भला  बताए कैसे? हुआ  नहीं  हो  ईश्क उसे समझाए कैसे? परमेश्वर में  तू  तुझी   में  परमेश्वर , पर  तू  हीं  ना  तत्तपर  नहीं कोई अवसर। दिल  में  है  ना    प्रीत   कोई उदगार  कहीं, अनुभव  के अतिरिक्त  कोई  आधार नहीं। अजय अमिताभ सुमन
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21
आसाँ नहीं समझना हर बात आदमी के, कि हँसने पे हो जाते वारदात आदमी के। सीने में जल रहे है अगन दफ़न दफ़न से , बुझे हैं ना कफ़न से अलात आदमी के? ईमां नहीं है जग पे ना खुद पे है भरोसा, रुके कहाँ रुके हैं सवालात आदमी के? दिन में हैं बेचैनी और रातों को उलझन, संभले नहीं संभलते हयात आदमी के। दो गज जमीं तक के छोड़े ना अवसर, ख्वाहिशें बहुत हैं दिन रात आदमी के। बना रहा था कुछ भी जो काम कुछ न आते, जब मौत आती मुश्किल हालात आदमी के। खुदा भी इससे हारा इसे चाहिए जग सारा, अजीब सी है फितरत खयालात आदमी के। वक्त बदलने पे वक़्त भी तो बदलता है, पर एक नहीं बदलता ये जात आदमी के। अजय अमिताभ सुमन
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Jan 17, 2021
Jan 17, 2021 at 11:45 PM UTC
जात आदमी के
जीवन  के   मधु प्यास  हमारे, छिपे किधर  प्रभु  पास हमारे? सब कहते तुम व्याप्त मही हो, पर मुझको क्यों प्राप्त नहीं हो? नाना शोध करता रहता  हूँ, फिर भी  विस्मय  में रहता हूँ, इस जीवन को तुम धरते हो, इस सृष्टि  को  तुम रचते हो। कहते कण कण में बसते हो, फिर क्यों मन बुद्धि हरते हो ? सक्त हुआ मन निरासक्त पे, अभिव्यक्ति  तो हो भक्त पे । मन के प्यास के कारण तुम हो, क्यों अज्ञात अकारण तुम हो? न  तन  मन में त्रास बढाओ, मेघ तुम्हीं हो प्यास बुझाओ। इस चित्त के विश्वास  हमारे, दूर   बड़े   हो   पास  हमारे। जीवन   के  मधु  प्यास मारे, किधर छिपे प्रभु पास हमारे? अजय अमिताभ सुमन
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Dec 26, 2020
Dec 26, 2020 at 1:44 AM UTC
अभिलाष
You are out there......... (c)near_lane7
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Nov 23, 2020
Nov 23, 2020 at 11:46 PM UTC
Silence
The shorts I wear to bed have a back pocket. When I chose to buy them in a twin pack with a tee shirt, the pocket was not a deciding feature. However, I acknowledged that it was there by design. For months I gave it no further thought. For months it was as redundant as a breast pocket in pyjamas. Then one morning, as I was juggling with a cereal bowl and clothes from the dryer, I slipped my phone, still playing a pod cast, into my back pocket. And for a moment, as the conversation followed me upstairs back to the bedroom, I smiled at the foresight of M&S. I should have realised: they know their stuff.
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Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 4:56 AM UTC
Foresight
a pair of red gloves, fury in brown boxer shorts; blood splattered on floor!
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Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 8:40 PM UTC
Eyes, return!
Tonight. I saw a woman walking with earbuds in--one earbud was in--while conversing over the phone with someone. Beauty overwhelmed her mortal body. A piece of her hair had loosely fallen from the right side of her scalp, and her blonde, beach waves blew in the wind. Behind her was a man in a coral v-neck. He had blonde hair and the body build of a high school **** Handsome. As the woman ahead of him leisurely strolled the streets of Minneapolis in her athletic shorts, which were outlined by gray stripes and dipped up in the middle of the side of her thighs, the wind seemingly spun the jock's face 180 degrees. His eyes were awestruck and full of alive hope, wonder, and desire. Lust. What a picture.
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Aug 7, 2017
Aug 7, 2017 at 7:42 PM UTC
Tonight
Your kisses are snowflakes that fall on my skin like delicate lace and slowly melt as my passion heats for more
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Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 4:10 AM UTC
Snowflakes
Can't they see That the only reason Trump has suddenly fallen in "love" with Mexico And Christian rights is because it is getting closer to voting day? Well you know that people are SO dumb that they Would go gay the "TRUMPY" way, believe anything the desperate ****** would have to say...
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Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 9:32 PM UTC
My political garbage-Sorry to offend you VI
some words i have some words you have wish you were mine wish we could rhyme some steps you could never take some promises i could never make they wish you were mine they wish we could rhyme -Storm
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Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 8:25 AM UTC
Rhyme
Hide us in that box, That rectangle of a box, Our little box of threads and needles. Stitch us on the seams, our dreams. Sink us under your sole, our voices. Hide us in that barrels, our troubles. Distill our spirits, wash us pure. Age us, Open our souls after the war.
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Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 11:35 PM UTC
After the War
War is not a game to chessmen pawned to death but to the hands that move them.
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Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 8:22 PM UTC
Chess
She thought awhile, of his warm, warm smile and recalled she loved him with a passion so bright, that it burned through the night but all he left her was grief
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Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 8:44 PM UTC
Untitled
My ode to shorts--- We look like fat dorks, When it's not so cold, Even if we're so old, Can't hide varicose veins, Old age doesn't go away, We know we look dorby, We're all well past forty, Summer's so **** hot, This heat's a bit of a shock, We all know we're fat dorks, Has anyone really thought We'd look good in shorts?
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Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 3:48 PM UTC
MY ODE TO SHORTS
“The music playing softly over some speakers, the words oblivious to anything else going on around. "Come away with me". The little bell on top of the door opening to the street rang each time it opened.”
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Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 4:37 PM UTC
Resume
I never asked to be born this way Maybe if I was consulted I's be okay But I wasn't - I don't know what to say My times running short, my choices limited each day * * * *You said you think I'm brave because I can speak my mind I don't think I'm brave 'cause if I were I would've taken my life* * * * **I'm a coward of the worst kind One that uses a mask to hide behind** * * * It's so easy to forget when I'm with you You make me happy just being alive But the moment you leave and I'm left on my own, My thoughts scream at me and there's no where to hide * * * ***Practice make better but I've      been practicing for years. Nothings gotten any better, in       fact all my fears Are only getting stronger, and      I'm fighting back tears 'Cause they say practice makes       better, but I don't think I could take another year.***
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Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
A Collection of Shorts
Hair the colour of an Americano, Petite denim shorts, blue. The scent of a perfume distinguishable, to you. Those skin-coloured tights – pleading to be torn. You’re everything I desire. Yet you’re everything I resent.
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 6:15 PM UTC
Allure
This is a poem, **** the rules.*
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Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC
**A Modern Poem**
320 contacts, All people I could call Collecting numbers I can do Know them by heart? Not at all.
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Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 8:06 AM UTC
Contacts