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I often ponder
Of my being isolated
In this world of 7 billion

I often wander
Alone I often wander around
In this vast world

I often feel out of love
Of friends and those special ones
In this lovely world

I often feel I could fly
Out of this defensively closed society
In this wide world

I often get a feeling
Of sadness when I can't share happiness
In this jealous world

I often get an emotion
Of joy when I succeed in befriending someone
In this hostile world

In the end of the poem I come to the essence
Of this world as not being so mean as it appears
In this first thought

I re-read what I titled this poem as
And say out loud that
I'm Not Alone
My HP Poem #3
©Atul Kaushal
We lay together lost in fantasy
Restless gazing upon different ceilings
Giggling in the remembrance of word plays through long days
Where we still manage to provoke smiles in the midst of our dull lonely ways
Your voice vibrates through a long distanced line
that we both dream of crossing some time
And though time may be a troubling thing
we push on with love and curiosity
Your voice rings sweet melodies to my imaginative tendencies
**** this longing
It's time you cross over and claim your belongings
The sun set fire to the landscape
In rasps of velvet orange brilliance
and I got lost in the strokes of time and consideration
Picturing how many hours passed honing in on every detail
I saw waves of peace caught and sunken into canvas
My imaginative eyes and ears hooked to the shells
Though I tried there was no escaping
I was hopelessly lost at sea
And Sleep
To See
Some
Dream...
Dream-Dream-Dream...
A short poem inspired by the Everly Brothers' song
My HP Poem #236
©Atul Kaushal
Stationed by belief
As hungry carts push on
Destined to the checkout lines with a fist of great deals
Forgotten once cashed
Repackaged in plastic wrap where flesh was once sacred
Commercial clichés provoking the same old reflections and interests
In the midst of clones and lapse of reason
Controlled and reduced to produce more and more
but the score lacks anything to do with the salvation found in art form
As chained souls morn in the ashes of the wake
We must transcend and break the links
For these ties are the kind that bind minds
I stand alienated and tongue tied as my mind's eye
sets the grocery store into flames
For the dependence and poison it bakes
While trains of unclassy gluttonous tarts
bump carts programmed to jump start
Relinquishing will and spilling milk
I cried out a river of chill
She's my everything.

The maid holding my hand in loneliness,
The masseuse massaging me in tiredness,
The path-shower with candle in darkness.

She's so magically young.

The angel materialized into my life by chance,
The angel that waves her wand in my tension,
The angel smiling & making my world shine.

She's my everything,
She's so magically young,
(: My young angel smiles & my world shines so bright. :)
My HP Poem #220
©Atul Kaushal
The ants feasted upon the rotting fruit
As the Bluebirds soared high
Sweet Turtledoves and Monarch butterflies
could be seen in the fermenting toxicity
and I thumbed through the *******
curiously
In fear and breathless
With a sickening touch of insanity
We had our time
Hot summer nights
Dreaming under the stars
Kissing scars and getting completely lost
in eachother arms
We bloomed like vibrant flowers
and wept tears of joy
May showers
Talked about our love for endless hours
It was us we entangled in unity
But too soon we experienced the fall
Inevitably we reached a flaw
and those petals withered in the chill
We died out and lost the thrill
This winter has lasted far too long
You're far gone yet I'm still here musing along
Waiting for spring
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