"assures" poems
Was with a salacious witch
with amazing quick silver tongue,
Confidence personified
she challenged me to chase her,
If I so wish, not in words.
Her liquid eyes and gestures,
made me mad with pleasure
by the time we reached the peacock hill.
Peacocks, big blue eyes painted on feathers,
each, was in love with her, it seemed.
Danced vying with each other,
to please her, while she winked at me.
As if to say"They'll **** each other
to get my glad eye"wouldn't I feel jealous?
Helpless, I did surrender to her spell,
like others in the line, in my front and back.
When just one touch of her index finger,
would evoke magic, I'll get
Transformed to a young peacock
of exquisite beauty, with blue green plumes
none have ever seen before,to flaunt at
others of the ilk, on seeing it they'd back out.
Such a witch is one of a kind,my mind
whispers, it's she who assures me this,
On the full moon night, due in a week
we'll fly to the far away hill where
She'll be with me helping to build a nest,
turning to a peafowl herself,
She'll lay a dozen eggs,
yes, in to my ear, she says, this is only later,
h
When, she with index finger will
gently touche me and proclaim, thus:
"This is the peacock I enticed and
with my witchcraft ,bound for life"
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 8:46 AM UTC
His hands are long,
calloused and inviting.
Scars tell stories,
scattered
across his knuckles.
He has one hand cradled in the other,
tapping and rubbing
his palm
with his fingers.
His mind is a jungle:
heavy, sticky, lush,
challenging to navigate,
surrounded by undecayed green
and unobstructed sea.
“Are you anxious?”
His hands are moving rapidly,
yellow parrotbills
flitting in and out of the tall tree trunks
and violet, epiphytic orchids of his mind.
Turning to face me,
he stretches his lips into a smile.
He assures me that he is fine,
but he doesn’t see any birds.
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 12:20 PM UTC
How quiet the night is
I say as I loudly tap
On my phone
Erasing and rewriting
Statuses
Only to realize
You can't be profound on facebook
Society has made sure of that.
This handy dandy
Mini pocket computer
Connects me to the world,
It assures that never will I
Never can I
Be alone.
Yet as I scroll
Through the friends list,
The contacts,
The snapchat stories,
Endless feeds,
Its clear I am only one person
Out of billions.
Barely noticeable.
Its hard to be unique
When all the clever usernames
Have been taken
And you don't know
How to use emojis.
I do not compute,
Nor do I really want to.
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 2:15 AM UTC
I used to seek answers,
to unsaid questions,
to incessant ponderings,
of the world in which we live in.
I used to fill the world with my voice,
never stopping,
hesitating,
for my greatest fear
was something far bigger than heights;
it was the silence.
The illusion was unmasked,
and at once,
I understood
why those questions were left
unanswered.
And now,
I find myself basking in the silence,
breathing it in,
trapping the words inside;
leaving them to roam within the confines
of my intricate road map.
The silence assures me,
that underneath the tangle of human complication,
of man-made solidarity,
the world is still a simple
silent
place.
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 6:27 PM UTC
Value someone who values you not like silver and gold,
Value someone who values you in fact ten times fold.
Value someone who values your smile,
Value someone who in difficult times makes smiling worthwhile.
Value someone who has always been there through the thick and the thin,
Value someone who has held you through late nights and gin.
Value someone who may irritate you till you pull your hair out,
Value someone who would knockout anyone else who tried to in a single bout.
Value someone who catches your every precious tear drop,
Value someone who does everything in and out of the book to make those stop.
Value someone who assures you that not all is lost,
Value someone who inspires you at no cost.
Value someone who protects you from every scratch and rake,
Value someone who spends the worlds time with you putting everything else at stake.
Value someone who holds you when nothing is right,
Value someone who's always there all your worries to fight.
Value someone who stands up for you in every situation,
Value someone who never gives up on you and goes for a vacation.
Value someone who does not care what the world says about you,
Value someone who recognizes the real inner you and believes you are unique in your very own way too.
Value someone with whom you may have the biggest of a fight,
Value someone who still incessantly stands two steps behind you and for you with a smile whether day or night.
Value someone who values you for what you are,
Value someone who continues to value you every minute and every hour, whether you are close or whether you are far...
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
When I close my eyes, the sight of you appears
I learnt to build my thoughts around you
When you look at me and smile now
I wonder how we made it so many years.
A man is one who loves his girl
Treats her with respect and plays with her
Trusts her no matter the world flips sides
Shows her how much he needs her.
Shares every secret every thought with her
Stands by her when she in doubt
Helps her make the right decision
Fixes her mood when it’s out
Cuddles her when she is sad and low
Troubles her to get her attention
Pretends to be angry with her
Just so she showers him with kisses...
Sings to her to show how much he loves her
Helps her cook when guests are home
Jokes he cracks to make her laugh
Never would he even by mistake make her cry
Compliments her for the smallest of things
Remembers her in his busiest of hours
Tells her he loves her before she sleeps
Just to wake up with her kiss on his cheek...
Walks with her holding hands
Gives her hugs and kisses unplanned...
Is naughty with her when she’s happy
Does all this with his heart and mind.
Assures her she is beautiful, pretty and hot
Is dedicated to her like a sage
Messes with her emotions now and then,
But gives her the love she craves. ..
Wonder how many such men were ever made?
God creates for each one a soul mate
Wonder if these thoughts would just remain thoughts
But thank-god I am blessed with the perfect man of this age. :)
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 11:17 PM UTC
It’s the kind of subtle trickle
That turns the asphalt into a glassy mirror
Ripples, ripples, ripples
Over it like a black pond
The silver lining of each little droplet
Streaking the sky with shades of gray
The streetlights cast an amber glow
Upon the shimmering mist
Hiss, hiss, hiss
Against your stinging flesh
Turn your face up towards the darkened sky
Let the rainfall and streetlights wash away the dust
The dust of the souls you carry on your lips and cheeks
Etched into your back and palms
Their burdens may cause you aches and pains
Let the rainfall and streetlights wash them away
Rainfall and streetlights
Rainfall and streetlights
An urban confessional
Where the sky leans in to listen
As every perfect drop of water hits your skin
It’s the sound of a cleansing
Only you can comprehend
And although the hope of purity may have been swept away
by the wind of unfixable mistakes
It’s still the belief alone in possible redemption
That keeps you from relenting to temptation
Drink up the tears of the sky, child
You are forgiven
You were always forgiven
After all
Paths were made to be strayed from
Straight lines are mundane, they all look the same
And never give a little boy glass when you haven’t taught him
how to grasp what’s right in front of him
When he drops it
It’s a dangerous job
Picking up the sharp shattered pieces
Do not make him do it all alone
Yes, inevitably you will cut yourself
On the broken shards
Crimson teardrops
If they tumble from you
Do not distrust your calluses
You made them through your own hard work and suffering
But they can only do so much for you
Remember your skin is a shell not impenetrable armor
So it’s best to avoid the things you know will cut unnecessarily deep
Bleeding is just another way your body assures you that your heart is still beating
Looking up from the gutter the universe awaits you child
Do you not realize what’s at your fingertips?
Infinity
So don’t give in just yet
Let the rainfall and streetlights heal you
Drip drop, drip drop
Let them bathe you in warmth
Radiating
Let the rainfall and streetlights take you away
To a better place
Wherever that may be
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 1:18 PM UTC
As I gaze at the Midnight Moon,
breathing slowly as I Sigh.
It wishes Me Goodnight,
and assures Me I won't Die.
The Sun will show it's Face,
after the Moon falls off to Sleep.
When the new Day has Dawned,
My Tears begin to Weep.
Life was a Beautiful Teacher,
that smothered Me with Kisses.
Alas I forget all My Lessons,
Hence I'm losing on the Blisses.
Time was a cruel Companion,
Which I lost somewhere on the Way.
Love was just a Friend of Mine,
Who One Day........ran Away.
Jul 4, 2023
Jul 4, 2023 at 12:04 PM UTC
Single cells no organelles
with membranes permeable
respond with will to live
Prokaryote so simple
no nucleus no lack
nearing food evading harm
Membrane assures survival
expanding one to two
Membranes of the human
process mystery
When shall we admit
our brains do not direct
our intricate survival
Jun 15, 2013
Jun 15, 2013 at 10:23 PM UTC
"I'm fine," she says with a halfhearted grin.
"I'm fine," she says again, waving away a helpful hand.
"I'm fine," she says to herself, several minutes later.
"I'm fine," she whispers, wiping her face.
She's not fine.
"I'm fine," she says moments after the cry leaves her lips.
"I'm fine," she says to herself, sinking to the floor.
"I'm fine," she tells herself, shaking in a ball.
"I'm fine," she repeats, picking up the razorblade.
She's not fine.
"I'm fine," she says to her concerned family.
"I'm fine," she insists as those who love her worry.
"I'm fine," she says to anyone who listens.
"I'm fine," she lies as she slices her wrists.
She's not fine.
"I'm fine," she cries, sobbing on the bathroom floor.
"I'm fine," she wails, but only in a whisper.
"I'm fine," she mutters, watching the blood leave her wrist.
"I'm fine," she practices, stepping from the room.
She's not fine.
"I'm fine," she assures the world outside.
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
There’s a certain beauty in a woman who assures her beauty, who believes in herself and contains her assurance. A woman who doesn’t want to be someone else, yet who wants to do better not be better. A woman who invites you in - helps you surpass your fears of uncertainties. She sings along in delight and joy; living, loving, running along the rivers of natures gift. Plainly a woman with a past, an unknown future who she is not afraid of, but looking forward to reach it. A woman who isn’t afraid of getting old, who is gaining knowledge and strength daily. The past is something she learns from, the present is her best friend and the future yearns for her substance.
This - Is a Real woman.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 3:09 AM UTC
Intense eyes, a majestic eagle,
circling high, is the air she carries,
a samba dancer luscious, who strikes
blow after blow with her belly button,
central stage always is hers
a bird of pray elegant on the look out,
the heightened awareness from
a sense of clear danger present,
is the reward she assures,
to him every minute for being her escort.
Rub her right, rub her wrong,
find what it would bring was his itch
the eagle woman conceals nothing,
keeps her eyes keen, wide open,
her mind a radar, focused on
what is to happen the moment next,
from mid air like a missile she swoops down,
stand still for a moment and then strikes,
she is on her prey, but he has
slipped away, at the precise moment.
Both are in awe of each other, but smiles,
on the dance floor they are glued to each other,
he now plans a daring plot,
named "The sword of Damocles"
she is of two minds, love this game,
finds him fitting the bill,
yet the bird of prey awaits time for the next raid
"He is made of dainty stuff".
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 6:12 AM UTC
Dear Friends, this poem was composed many years ago and posted on ‘Poemhunter.com’. Time here is compared to the money lender and miser Shylock in Shakespeare’s ‘Merchant Of Venice’, where Shylock insisted on cutting out a pound of flesh from the merchant Bassanio, for having failed to pay back the loan taken from Shylock! Hope you like it, - Raj
TIME THE GREAT USURER
TIME the great usurer, is a great miser too,
Always knows the cost of things to be paid
back by you!
It readily loans you the desired amount in
number of years.
Smilingly assures and allays all your doubts
and fears.
It makes the loan to appear like a free gratis,
So you hardly bother to take any notice!
But with the passage of growing years and
life depleting with time,
In paying back your interests, you got to
default sometime.
Precisely at that moment, the usurer knocks
rather loud,
And through death takes back its’ principal
amount !
Alas, Time the great Shylock knows the cost
of everything.
When will it learn to appreciate the value
we attach to things?
-Raj Nandy, New Delhi.
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 12:02 PM UTC
And as I lie in bed,
Staring at the ceiling above me,
The rise and fall of my chest
Reminding me that I am alive,
Listening to the rain,
Landing on the roof,
The sky assures me that
There is nothing wrong
With having a good cry.
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 11:19 PM UTC
Humility is a thorned crown.
If you allow it to it'll break you down.
Confound your ego
And spur it into the ground.
Its a mindset shift through and through.
When it hits you genuinely humility will help bring about a new you.
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 12:05 PM UTC
*THIS IS THE LEPROSY TANGO
Imagine a lepers' hospital somewhere in the jungle;
it's St Valentines Day and everyone is looking for love.
Let the music begin...*
Leprosy!
I think I've got leprosy;
At least my doctor
Assures me it's so.
Oh! Oh! Oh!
Leprosy!
I'm pleased I've got leprosy;
At least for the moment,
Till my privy parts go.
One by one my bits
And pieces, they drop off
And I must be so careful
Whenever I cough.
Yes! Yes! Yes!
Leprosy!
Oh yes, I have leprosy
And I'm so happy
Cos it's a great way to go.
OLE!
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 11:50 AM UTC
He whispers sweet nothings into her ear;
'It's not about what I don't have but rather-
Who I am inspired to be when you are near.
I am 3 persons better when we're together.'
She knows he is lying. She is certain of it.
But she chooses to believe him all the same.
It's how his falsehood and charms are so sweet-
That he curves the best sound out of her name.
She smiles when he smiles. It's his smile!
She laughs at his jokes. His funny jokes.
But she wont let him see her pains pile.
She adores the peace with which he talks.
She's hurting. But an ounce of his fake love-
Has the likes of favour from a clan of gods.
She hurts that it hurt if its him she's thinking of;
But she holds on, praying for better odds.
She's irrefutably all his, but he is his own man.
She loves him with her every fibre of being.
He merely likes her alot. Thats about it! Done!;
'A great love' vs. 'Some relationship-like thing.'
He say's she's beautiful like he coined the word.
He calls her his with the tone he does other girls.
He speaks words like she's never before heard;
She means a lot. He means a world of worlds.
He is not a tamed lover. He is the perfect actor;
The sort that hurts not with words, but silence.
He tells her that he really cares alot right after-
Breaking her heart with his affection's absence.
He endeavours to serve her his very best-
But the best he's known is to hurt her.
So... He assures her that she'll be blessed-
If he would leave her life and go so far.
Tears roll slowly, down her made-up face.
She's crying for her but more so for him.
True, his love in her heart is out of place-
But she willed to try and find life in a dream.
From some distance, I watched her weep bitterly.
I saw her as she fell apart. I wish I did not let her.
So... Looking into her dark eyes, I said sincerely,
'Sorry. I can't love you. Go now. You deserve better.'
Keep Smiling
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 12:54 AM UTC
A skeletal stag standing ten trees tall
Hanging moss adorning His wide antlers, patches of rocky lichen covering His driftwood bones
Large cloven hooves stepping carefully yet purposefully among the bleached remains littering the forest floor
He alone reigns here, in this place beneath ours
Even the pines fall silent as He passes
Even the stones
The air is old here
Thick with a power lost to time
Only He is left; a dimming flicker in a collective consciousness
Keeping a lonely vigil in an ancient forest a thousand miles deep and a hand's width beside us
No breath is drawn here
The soft rattling of His timber ribcage is the sole sound as He moves
Ceaselessly
Without rest
To a place always changing, never quite there
The ossuaries lay in a heavy silence
He assures the eternal slumber of all who rest here
The hollows in His skull seem to observe them, undisturbed
He moves on
His name has been forgotten for millennia
This sacred ground has become but a fleeting memory
Few old gods remain, lost to the quickening of time
He remembers, as He stands keeper of this place
Of an age before ours
When they would polish the skulls of the hunt with holy oils in His name
Dancing wildly and unburdened around towering flames
Primal sounds ripping raw from reverent lips
Now He is all but a wavering in the annals
He pauses in His endless march
Raises His great antlers to the thick canopy above
He listens
Feels the shift -- another one has faded
He will most likely be the last of His kind
A somber sentinel tasked with ensuring the dead wake not from their final sleep
Ensuring the silence is suffocating
A deep, weighted vibration
As if the place under ours was itself thrumming with power
Though none remain who once spoke His true name in fearful whispers
He will outlast
For all will eventually come to know
The one they now call death
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 8:14 PM UTC
The harder I fall the more I fall away
It's self preservation at its finest
But why do I want to fall from the one who loves me?
We're at a cliff and I'm hanging on with one hand
and he's at the top begging me to not let go
It's temptation it's fear
It's a lifetime of leaving before I'm left
It's a lifetime of leaving blame on everyone else
It's a lifetime of loving so hard my heart can't handle it
But he assures me he can shoulder the weight of my burdens
My past, my present, and future
It's trust he's trying to hand me and that my hand can't reach for because it wants to let go
And go and go and fall and drop
It wants to reach out for him and pull him closer to me and with me.
I want him on top and on bottom and I want him near and away
But my body betrays me and the magnetic force is always trying to turn the opposite direction so we can't click together
I don't know why I am the way I am and I don't want to be me sometimes
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 3:40 PM UTC
A warm embrace from city grates
combats the colder breeze
How then should I continue?
A further stroll might treasure hold
But of this, none assures me.
Then why should I continue?
I might have stayed and soothed my pain
My legs had faltered for the thought
Why then should I not stop?
In short, I kept on in my walk,
But often now I think of how
I could be different now
If only I had stopped.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 5:32 PM UTC
It's hard to keep it all together with you pulling me apart.
Crawling underneath my skin and breaking me slowly from the start.
You could have anything you wanted, and baby, so could I.
Except the thing that truly counts, that once thing... "You and I".
No matter how much I fall apart, no matter how much I cry..
I never will stop nor will I give up, because without you my reflection is but a lie.
I don't feel right, and I don't feel sane. Quite frankly I'm a *****
But looking in your deep green eyes, my love defeats the Lich.
I feel at peace, I feel at home, nevermore have I felt secure.
The touch of your lips as you hold me close is no longer what assures.
I lay in bed, reaching for you, but your spot has long grown cold.
I'd wait a thousand years for you, if only to grow old.
It doesn't matter when or where, to see you is what matters.
I just want for you to know, without you, my love, my life just simply shatters.
I love you more than thunderstorms; unpredictable and chaotic, as am I.
I love you, regardless of the pain and the ever cloudy sky.
Words are simply powerless to tell you how I feel.
I wish that I had one last chance to show you... just how potent and how real..
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 12:50 PM UTC
Gauri, Kali
The fair one, the dark one
Bedecked in silks naked body bedecked with skulls
flowers and jewels taken from demons
dark hair tied in a long lovely plait her wild hair hangs all about her
Jagatmaata-Mother of the World The Fierce One-Destroyer of Evil
Feminine grace personified Feminine Power in all its glory
her kindness assures her countenance strikes fear
Calm and peace in the hearts of evil doers
She uses the primal energy
To nurture, to create To destroy, to cleanse
Some days I’m like her On other days like her
On most days I’m both
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 10:11 AM UTC
What if this present were the world’s last night?
Mark in my heart, O soul, where thou dost dwell,
The picture of Christ crucified, and tell
Whether that countenance can thee affright,
Tears in his eyes quench the amazing light,
Blood fills his frowns, which from his pierced head fell.
And can that tongue adjudge thee unto hell,
Which prayed forgiveness for his foes’ fierce spite?
No, no; but as in my idolatry
I said to all my profane mistresses,
Beauty, of pity, foulness only is
A sign of rigour: so I say to thee,
To wicked spirits are horrid shapes assigned,
This beauteous form assures a piteous mind.
2.3k
Stitching
From a grand church in France to a rustic barn in Sweden the focal point and fascination is the door that
Has a key protruding in the lock but it has with time lost the screws that held it snug against the door
And the door frame there is no flat lumbered board now it is just a very deep splintered lines the color
Of auburn brown with a low gleaming in the setting sun I put my hands out and touch this rustic place in
Time an explosion of thoughts blast the mind a life lived well with purpose that endures with use the
Seasoned is expressed a stitching that is the fabric of life forms over muscle and sinew this outer
Garment does not belie the inner soul but in experience and in action it promotes and assures value
It passes through the vestiges of time the gray mist speaks with whispered mystery bur anchored at
Your center is the intractable character that sets the tone of your life a solid structure presents a forcible
Argument yes the elements have taken their toll but by doing so they have removed the green untried
Wood now the occasional creaking occurs but not of breaking but the stalwart rises in common skies
Privilege gleams the stranger or intimate friend is in the presence of the assured there is no pretense
This truth as sound as time and wisdom crowns walls and bedrock foundation you have come upon
The investment that God has provided and runs deep without constraints you can stand and muse
Here and as an invisible oracle your questions will be answered they will float on silent wind and mark
You as different you will be refreshed a redeeming will surge through you timeless affirmation will
Speak you will know it is sound it is steps that are sure when so much is cheap and just for show you
Will grow strong and tall your shadow will be the challenge to those who waste themselves on base
And worthless misgivings of life you will possess the power to be a place of refuge a fortress where
The powerless and helpless are provided comfort and instruction no longer will evil and its devices
Enslave the helpless there will be that irrefutable place of giving that will conquer a world bent on
Destruction.
Aug 21, 2012
Aug 21, 2012 at 12:41 AM UTC