#y
Entonces besaré tu mano
y con mano me refiero a palma suave,
porque quiero besar lo que me pudiera
golpear,
quiero abrazar lo que me pudiera intimidar,
quiero acariciar lo que me podría matar,
y en ese roce hallar lo que el miedo no sabe.
Mar 8
Mar 8, 2026 at 10:45 AM UTC
Aunque el mundo se derrumbe
o sea solo una simulación,
aunque todo esté en mi contra,
mi alma terca y fiel
te elegiría 998 veces.
He sentido la frialdad de otros cuerpos,
besos que sabían a soledad,
miradas vacías donde yo no existía,
y caricias que no tocaron
ni una sola fibra real de mi alma.
Y tú…
fuiste el error del sistema,
la grieta en la lógica perfecta,
la chispa que no estaba programada.
No quiero una voz metálica
diciéndome que todo pasa por algo, que estoy destinada a otro encuentro sin sentido. Porque mi corazón
aún late en rebelión.
Y si tengo que huir del algoritmo,
lo haré.
Si tengo que desafiarlo mil veces,
lo haré.
Porque tú
fuiste la excepción.
Y yo,
la que se rebeló 998 veces…
solo para encontrarte.
Mar 1
Mar 1, 2026 at 9:20 PM UTC
Me era fácil interpretar el papel de la bruja.
Sabía mis líneas de memoria,
esas con las que más de una vez
hice huir a caballeros valientes.
Siempre fui la villana sin corazón.
Nunca supe ser la princesa en apuros.
Reírme del amor
me pareció más seguro
que dejar que me abrace.
Pero llegó él.
El que pregunta justo lo que no quiero responder.
El que derrumba muros sin pedir permiso.
El que pone de cabeza mi historia,
se burla de mis argumentos
y acierta la frase perfecta
sin leer el guion.
No fue invitado a la fiesta del Sombrerero Loco, y sin embargo,
bailó conmigo entre tazas rotas.
Se equivocó de cuento,
pero se inventó uno nuevo
solo por verme sonreír.
A él no le importó que yo fuera la bruja.
Dijo que había belleza
en mi sombra.
Feb 3
Feb 3, 2026 at 12:44 AM UTC
Ye olde Yo-cum, advises get thee to a nunnery of trees, leaves of sunlight scorched sunrises and sunsets to clear the cobwebs and recall more fully the good stuff, like in Oregun,
allow it to resonant via ****** shots of temporal, but seasonal natural harmony, a more regulat visitor of the upcoming comes of good weather and the life by the water, on a tiny islansd, long lazy days, and a lessening of the
mental haze-ing
punctuating life with long walks and teardrops of tears, poetry suggestives, will be dropping from icy white cumulus every day clouds, moving to uncover the elaborate and running trills of colutara words lurking within, no more the blaring horns of trafficked sounds of First Ave., trucks fighting to de-liver-er the urgencies of consumption (a most excellent disease) and the potpourri symphony of marching bands blaring of ambulances, fire trucks, and the EXTRAordinary impatience of horn blaring taxis up and down York Ave., dropping off patients 24-7 at a laundry list of "specialized" Hospitals with "views of the river in every room"
I miss the quietude noises of summer breezes tickling minds, trees frothing a
cappucino sun heated breeze to stir the blush and rush of words forming faster than the mind can absorb;
alas, alas, this same mind can never fully squeeze out the sins of memories of winter's travails and yet, the mere suggestion of my old friends embracing me, sun, wind, green landscapes, sea and land animals coming to greet the human interlopers makes me all stirred up, like watching white milk in black coffee spread its cooling affection and lightening the black; aerate and mixing the perptual continuum of my ever slowly chilling bloodstream streaming to mind
and I sigh, for many reasons...but in my heart, I am, and remain, forever a summer man...
aerate and mix and I sigh, for many reasons...
Absent brain surgery, the mind wanders following the sun's trajectory, wither?
Mar 29, 2025
Mar 29, 2025 at 7:40 AM UTC
No me enamoré
de ti,
sólo esperaba
un poco de tu cariño.
Me enamoré
de tu risa,
de tus abrazos,
de esos besos cortos
que te hacían vibrar
por dentro,
de los instantes contigo,
de tu llamada diaria,
de tus gestos
cariñosos y tiernos,
de la "Y" que escribiste
en tu pecho,
de mi nombre
en tu pupitre.
Me hiciste creerme
el rey de tu trono,
y ahora decides
arrancarme la corona,
pero también te llevas
un trozo de lo poco
que me queda
por corazón.
Feb 4, 2025
Feb 4, 2025 at 11:28 AM UTC
WHY are you reading and writing poetry today?
why not?
**** straight &
just be the cause
that's right,
even writing
just keep it
short/\ sweet (self mocking Ha)
there are actual family members
who might require
a shocking paddling
to the
heart
when conducting their
year end review
as for us
the shock, the awe,
of so many fine
new poens opening
is a sufficient charger to the
parts that need restarting when
we wake up, no matter
our diversification
our diversions
and divisions,
reading new words ancient
in the Reforming,
are dividends and
that keep on after the electrolytes, caffeine
& other stimulies
stimulants that keep us going
a golden charging,
Plenty good enough
Ps
and I delight in many new ones
discovering my prose, welcoming
them like my newborn children
all my own, and raising them
and the new-for all-new combinations
to see their Forthcoming with/\ by
bringing them to your attention,
and that is my Jewish own creche,
my own scene of all of god’s chosen
poets
nativities
and did not plan to go in & on
but nothing stirs the sparks,
like thinking that every minute
a birth is celebrated
and I am blessed to be among
the witnesses
nml
Dec 26, 2024
Dec 26, 2024 at 8:57 AM UTC
Jesus- has got to be the foundation to get others to Heaven
Others- a lot easier when Jesus is the foundation
Yourself- to love others as yourself you have to love yourself
= JOY
Dec 23, 2024
Dec 23, 2024 at 10:03 PM UTC
The Kalos Region now upheld as fair,
From ancient days an ugly past doth bear.
The woes of War did knock on every door,
Till man nor 'mon could take much more,
Three thousand years ago, upon this shore.
So many lives were lost - both man and 'mon,
It seemed a night that ne'er would bring dawn.
No beauty, no joy in those days of yore,
Only the pain of parting was in store,
For victims of the Ancient Kalos War.
Man's grief brought The End, the land did tear,
Wartime finished in a lightning flare.
'Mons rage brought The End, a furious roar,
Lightning crackled forth to end the war,
Kalos' long pain was then no more.
One man, through it all, lives ever on,
To a 'mon once lost, he's ever drawn.
One man, through it all, lives ever on,
Searching for his heart, long lost and gone.
Sep 24, 2024
Sep 24, 2024 at 3:19 PM UTC
I was born in 1990,
Only 8 days shy of 1991.
Still, I am Generation Y.
She was born in 2000,
Nearly 6 weeks into it.
She's Generation Z.
Still, she responded to me,
Actually her mother did.
The matrimonial ad.
My parents had flashed it,
In a timely manner, they hoped,
That I can be married.
So, I went to their home,
I liked her for her youth.
And of course her eyes.
She was truthful and frank too.
She told me what she wanted,
She wanted a mature man.
When I told her that I was an artist,
She loved my poetry,
And commended my creations.
Soon that 'misunderstanding' happened,
And the Miss felt she was standing under,
To equate herself with me, she berated me.
Oh, I do want to marry her still,
Because in her I see a lot of potential,
But she'll have to change her behaviour.
And as she can't change,
Things she will have to realise.
I don't think that she can apologise.
There's a generation gap between us,
And the next generation can't say sorry,
Or just accept their mistake with humility.
Sep 18, 2024
Sep 18, 2024 at 3:49 AM UTC
I don't know where I'm supposed to be
but I know where I'm posed to be
a solo diver floating free
flowing
with the open sea
embracing waves
embracing rain
embracing whirling winds of change
surrendering
to Heaven's gaze
soaking in the pearly rays
Apr 30, 2024
Apr 30, 2024 at 10:36 AM UTC
si la dia pudiera dormir mientras
el cielo la cantaba su historia,
o si la noche quisiera despertar
con el oro reluciente en sus ojos―
el mundo se marchitaría por sus pecados.
si tuvieran un amor brillante que
no era cubierto por los rituales,
ni la luna viuda que ya espera―
todo se hubiera como infinito.
pero inseparable el uno del otro
en formas que podían destruir la causa
que sostena su belleza inmortal―
que no solo morirían en el mundo,
pero en tiempo, en espacio, y en la memoria.
Oct 23, 2019
Oct 23, 2019 at 5:51 PM UTC
The wolf cries the Raven flies
down valley long portents are strong
Of coming battle where foe I meet
from dreams of old while I did sleep.
Of valley dark with shadow long
through mists I march
through waiting throng.
Behold the vanquished red eyed throng
bare witness to my passage long
These lost souls likely did come
but failed and fell and joined the throng.
Through many years my path has led
to culminate in what I dread
unvanquished foe I now must meet
though fear beset my tired feet
So on I march the valley long
through mists and shadow and red eyed throng.
Under Ravens eye past cry of wolf
I seek the foe my fate has brought
Should I survive this day of dread
to climb the hill at valleys end
May I find peace that blessed day,
To finally know I've found my way
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 9:56 PM UTC
The ground is dimpled with different footprints
large and small
deep and shallow
human and animal
Some have more depth than others ever could
having walked miles and miles.
To be light on ones toes
is a characteristic
of those not old
of those not tired
or of those who are sneaking.
I'm not sure how to decipher these prints.
But we can learn much from the steps of others.
There is truth in how we walk
with strong, deep steps
or light strides
weighted with experience
or floating in the feeling of living.
The reason behind the steps we take in life
are sometimes never known
are sometimes never noticed
we keep our heads down
but we don't see that we're walking
on a path that has been walked before.
How come we walked like this?
Who walked and tripped?
Who stepped in the trap?
How did the earth disappear beneath them?
These footprints are ancient,
preserved to reach a modern time
but their reasons were left far behind.
Sometimes we are left with all the evidence.
Sometimes we have all the facts,
but none of the reasons.
Sometimes we vow to find those reasons.
Sometimes we are content to let it remain unknown.
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 11:04 AM UTC
You
ruined
my
life
You're
the
reason
why
I'm
mad
But
You're
my
sweet
drug
my
secret
boyfriend
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 5:56 PM UTC
que poca mentiras tenes de chiquito a chechuas:
Lyrical y poeta
Poeta y lyrical
Media luna y cracked jokes
Cakes and misfit animals
Se van a open para vergasos
Los movemos antes de llegar
Muebles no carga
Sangre equivocada de cuero
Boludo
Los libros se cargan solos
Poeta
Los libros en las tinieblas de la mente
Poeta
Girando sin parar la cabeza va
Después de todo es más que un sonido
Todo lo bonito se admira de repente
Todo lo feo se arrepiente uno despues
Que es lo interesante de tu pareja:
Baudelier, se sintió frío al escribír sus poemas o estoy mintiendo.
No podemos rescatar la madre de la sabiduría.
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 12:30 PM UTC
We are the first generation truly
free - free to create and destroy.
Living on borrowed time, we are
either the end or another beginning.
Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 5:52 PM UTC
[Alright, I don’t know how else to say this, but...
You know Unsafe?
I only made 3 parts.
I keep getting wind that there’s a part 4.
I’m starting to think that SHE continued it somehow.
How she did is beyond me, considering she isn’t exactly real.
Oh yeah.
You might want a little clarity as to whom i am referring to.
Alright. so, the series X is written about a mystery girl that is called (or rather represented as) X, no?
Well, the reason she’s called that is because nobody knows her name.
I never gave her one.
Getting back on topic, it’s supposed to be written by another fictional person, whom for the sake of continuity, we will call W. Now, W and X were in love, very much so. W is offed, X mourns, yadda yadda yadda, et cetera, et cetera. Well, I felt that in order to give X more clarity and depth, that i’d have to write a second series, One that is written in the perspective of X. This premise became what you now know as Unsafe.
But, for some reason...
As I continued writing Unsafe, it felt more and more like I wasn’t even writing.
It’s like she had extended into my subconsious, from the fictional world in which she dwells, and into my pen.
Luckily, she’s easy to identify. I write her in ‘a special way’ as opposed to my [normal] writing.
Wait.
Alright, Don’t be alarmed, but She MIGHT (this is a big might) have escaped the domain I made for her,
Unsafe,
And into my Notes.
I cannot tell if it’s true or not, as this notice is considered it’s own poem. I cannot interact with my Notes until I decide to leave any poem that I am currently in.
But more importantly, this also implies that she is SENTIENT, and no longer needs me to convey her thoughts and actions.
Hell, she might be fighting for control over my account as I write this!
Ahahaha...
I really ******* myself over, huh?
Anyways, if you see her, tell me IMMEDIATELY! Just whatever you do, DON’T interact with her! In her current state, she is most likely extremely hostile.
I do appreciate you reading X and Unsafe, but this is getting a liiiiitle serious here, so uh...
Please take caution! I couldn’t live with myself if one of my readers LITERALLY GOT KILLED OFF by one of my works.
I’ll update you guys if anything meaningful happens.
In the meantime, I think I’ll go somewhere...
Familiar.]
Nov 6, 2017
Nov 6, 2017 at 3:29 PM UTC
YOGA
When body and mind are in tune,
Flowers of joy and peace in silence bloom :
Relax for a while and look inward,
Regulate breathing and stay unmoved,
Dive into the dark depths
Of the sea of consciousness,
Explore the concealed layers
From its surface, ever active and restless;
Slowly sink into the sub-conscious mind
That run all vital functions, day and night.
* Move deeper until you reach the source
And find life's perennial spring,
Flowing from your innermost being
Into the boundless universe, ever expanding,
Beyond the confines of the sensuous mind.
When this inward journey, spiritual,
Brings insight into the subtle working
Of the hidden mind, you emerge wiser
And stronger than ever before
To weather the storms of life, ephemeral,
And realize man's fervent prayer -
" Thamasoma Jyothirgamaya" *
Lead us from darkness to Light,
The ultimate aim of all mankind.
******. M.G.N.Murthy,
Hyderabad, India.
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 11:23 PM UTC
On our first date I'm gonna sit on my phone.
Appear uninterested.
Keep asking you to "repeat that".
When you try and get my attention I'll laugh emphatically at something on my phone and show it to you.
Because I'm Gen Y and I don't have a ******* clue.
I was taught
To show affection when it suits me.
To show love when it's manipulative.
And always to keep you down so it feels like I'm floating.
Because I never want to remember how it feels to sink.
Y I don't identify with Gen Y.
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 8:55 AM UTC
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Every one wishes for a happy new year,
Not without a feeling of lurking fear:
The reason is simple and clear:
The voice of reason very few hear
In the prevailing intolerant atmosphere -
Selfishness, greed, misery,starvation
And heinous crimes in the name of religion!
May the new year end this monstrous trend
And herald a new era of love and compassion
Through the right kind of liberal education.
***** ***** M.G.Narasimha Murthy,
Hyderabad, India.
* April 8, 2016 (Ugaadi) and April 15,2016 (1st Baisakh, in
Bengal) mark the beginning of a new year according to the Hindu calendar.
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 10:48 PM UTC
On the glowing American horizon,
Dawns a new era of hope and communion.
Obama, the leader America was waiting for,
Emerges from the masses, a rising star.
Breaking the barriers of religion and race,
Obama smiles, with confidence and grace,
"Change has come to America" he declares!
Recalls Lincoln, Kennedy and Dr.King,
As millions of Americans dance and sing.
Elegant orator, par excellence,
Promises equality, justice and strong defence,
And measures to crush agents of violence,
Defeat terrorists and their evil designs;
Shares India's desire to isolate centres of crime.
Facing challenging tasks at this crucial time -
Violent conflicts, failing Banks and economic trends,
He seeks the goodwill and support of all nations,
Treating them as partners and trusted friends.
'OBAMA' now personifies "YES, WE CAN" -
Our youthful world's best slogan!
Now is the time for all statesmen to join hands
And say "YES, WE WILL" and hail the brave new icon!
**** **** **** Narasimha Murthy, M.G.
Hyderabad, India. [email protected]
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 9:10 AM UTC
My devices that poured themselves onto the strings to make the melodies
ache.
They said sorry to all the damage they've caused.
The spend hours turning the pages of Books upon books.
They receive kiss after kiss and break after break.
They touch lies and make sense of them
But I'm still hurting
Still aching
Still breaking
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 8:03 PM UTC