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#skylark
I have never ever been a skylarker, have you? I think it would take a bit of engineering to come up with a gimmick or two. I believe the term, rather, is skylarking but I wonder if it can become a title too? Or a role, like the Joker or the Prankster or is it just whimsical fun? requiring no skill or gumption. It prompts me to ponder alternate universes or realities; other paths my life could have taken — Would I have been wonder woman wild on a stand-up stage? A doctor, or a nurse? Breaking off death's curse! Could I have been a circus performer Or would that have concluded in a hearse? I will stick, for now, with poetry, and prayers, and promises of life beyond how — that's a trick worth playing!
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Jun 13, 2025
Jun 13, 2025 at 12:42 PM UTC
"skylarking"
The tear drops of rain, Sleeping over my windowpane, A soul above must be in pain, A memory trapped in a frame, Lighting and thunder in the sky, He must be feeling restless, Because feelings don’t die, The clouds are grey and dark, While I hear the skylark, Singing a dirge for him, The sun too looked dim, I was chilled by the sudden storm, Couldn’t make out what was wrong, It looked as if I was inside someone, An abandoned land with no one, Saw the old stains on the glass, It must be his dead past.
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Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 11:04 AM UTC
Sad soul
I wanted to write a poem because I wanted to test the integrity of life when life tests the integrity of me, indulge in decadence, and create a travesty out of society; fall in love, like a skylark does with his sesame seeds... and it was not until after I have written did I realize I have not written at all.
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Sep 8, 2019
Sep 8, 2019 at 7:41 AM UTC
to write a poem
Once more Came to see the light of the night then just to melt in the shadow of the dayshine. The summer moves on and so do you leaving behind nothing but the event horizon. No light can escape from here remaining captured, like a caged skylark, being lingering frozen like the vacuity of space; incarcerated by the radiation of dying stars out of the lightning source of my true glare.
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May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 6:40 AM UTC
Vacuity
Its Christmas! Its Christmas! The skies have early said, As the winter brings the bliss Of berries blue and red; The dew that chanted the tale of his birth Gleamed in the palm of the lotus leaf; The flower which stood for his grace on earth Spread their aroma to void all grief; Its Christmas! Its Christmas! The skies have early said, As the winter brings the bliss Of berries blue and red; Loud and clear, the skylark sings, A cluster full of joy it brings; Dancing in glee, the tulips many, Clouds and mountains too join the symphony; Its Christmas! Its Christmas! The skies have early said, As the winter brings the bliss Of berries blue and red; -Anil Kumar A R
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Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 10:49 AM UTC
Its Christmas! Its Christmas!