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Philipp K J Mar 8
“Happy women’s day Ladies
It’s not the old serpentine tale, of course!
You cute, sweet, lovely, freebies
Darling, loving, adorable force
Excelling even the nature of creator!
Source of Solace, all men’s Curator
I come to sell you a new Age Fruit!
This you need not eat -just have it
And you will become the God Himself!”
Yes! Its time you assert yourself!
On this Happy Women’s day.

Thank you so much Mr. Serpent tales man!
Thanks for your wonderful words and sales plan
We are not of the old end of eternity
When the Lady fell on your selling skill,
Yet we appreciate your audacity
Your prowess and rumor mill!

Sorry! you cannot any more use us
As we are already with Jesus!
So be Happy Its Women’s Day!
Its our day and have a nice day!
Philipp K J Jan 1
O here goes the Twenty Twenty
The weary wagon mortuary
Wades  and fades into memory

We all travelled at a huge cost
Some of our beloved ones lost

Masked, perfumed we lived and  learned
With the brunt of death arround
We prayed and stayed close to God
With hope we may break the shroud

At last here at the boundary
I can see an obituary
I look and read with scare
"Death, you are  no more fear!"

And in the light I am shocked to see
The same old Twenty twenty
In a new light and hue
holding a little One!

May be this one is the new born
Inheritance of future crown!
May be it is the new brown
May be you had better not frown!
Philipp K J Dec 2020
O dear infant Jesus
We heard of your humble birth
The word incarnate salt of earth
They said is born to redeem us

The seed and source of wisdom
The truth and way to Gods kingdom
The Prince who shakes devil's fiefdom
O dear loving infant Jesus

You are the child of eternity
Marvel and master of humanity
I wish to give my felicity
O fuel and fire; lamp and light
I would sing and dance at your sight

CORONA cannot stop my salam
Though I cannot reach Jerusalem
If you wish so, please bless my home
Immanuel, a little Bethlahem

O lamb of God; light of world
O Spotless sacrifice sublime
Open my eyes to see the word
Stretch and touch my conscience's clime

Give me strength to keep off the sounds
And fury of the external bounds
Bind and drag me to your freedom
Even if it costs a martydom

And blind me to see your choice
And deafen me to hear your voice
To sing praises with your graces
O dear loving infant Jesus

Hope my voice reaches you with poise
With the right chim and charm of toys.
Yours Lovingly
Your beloved handmade.
Philipp K J Nov 2020
On a sun tanned Sunday noon
The rays are mildly intense
The day is full of events
Street hawkers' horn calls
Ring along narrow walls
Birds sound copious shrill
Proclaim their language skill
"Family Family
We are On Tree, On Tree"
"Caw-Caw" many broods
Tweet in funny moods
On a sun tanned Sunday noon.

The shadows become longer soon
A baboon sneaks in with a spoon
Can I scoop a spoonful of corn?
A squirrel too wooed by this goon
Queues beneath the sun panel boon
Drowsy brown cats on the porch
Perch and watch the girls from church
A draft of air brings to eyes
Smell of smoked chicken thighs
Whiffs of mutton stew stench
With alcoholic punch
From reveling liquor saloon
On a sun tanned Sunday noon
Philipp K J Oct 2020
Corona, you have set us free
From shackles of modernity
Gatherings and festivity
Eating and chatting at street carts
Meetings and dating with sweet hearts
Corona you have set us free

Sitting on the beach without speech
Red golden cheeks silently teach
The love laden rays how to bleach
Sans proximity build amity
Find unity without enmity
Praise Almighty sans community
How to make e-mails without file
Keeping down the bile how to smile
How to tell in truth I miss you guys
Masking our mouths with ties
Corona you have set us free
Philipp K J Oct 2020
The dim lit wall screened figures, human forms,
Woman or man with long hair tangles
Sitting on horse, drifting on a floating home
A man stands on the banks with goggles


A lady with crook looks down through her nose
Laughing or mocking extends her hand deep-
Etchings; while by her side the siblings cling close
To their parents warm waving ******* in sleep.


The cold hands startle her being misplaced
Strangle holding breath she should faintly rhyme;
"Mom I,  can I have? your hand to embrace?"
For it would help her pass the sleep incline.


A heavy hot hand her mom would poke out
Snugging the hand she would squirt out high  
And fade into deep space like a rocket
Leaving behind flights of hot silent sigh.

But in the middle of nights intervals
She will feel her hands embracing the void
Then the vague fluid figures of mural marvels
Will smile or stare like sleepless wanton Freud


Long later in life she knew they were all
Forms of her gall painting her virtual role
Philipp K J Oct 2020
Fire began its dance
Stretching fiery hands
Unloosing hair bands
In golden array
Basics of ballet
Pas de Bourree
Ethereal sway
Floating in trance
At fireplace entrance
Blaze in bright intense
Vermilion gold
Silky fluid fold
From bed of ashes
Burning log gnashes
Gnarling scary fangs
Ruddy tongues spread long
Glaring fiery wings
Stepping out touching
Swiping and hopping
Breaking and locking
Lapping and tapping
dancing and dancing
Under round bottom
In still eves of autumn
Holding emotion
Without commotion
Stretching enfolding
The sleek *** belly
From center it slips
To sides of its hips
From the hot mud hearth
Play display in mirth
Engaging hot fans
Steady doting glance
Rubbing with muscles
Around the hot vessels
The fire began its dance
To heat the meat pans
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