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"chandra" poems
Hum us desh ke vashi hain..... Jaha sabhi ka samman kiya jata hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha sabhi logo me ekta hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha atithi ko bhagwan ka darja diya jata hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha aurato ko devi kaha jata hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha hindu muslim sikh esai sabhi bhai bhai hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain..... Jaha mata pita ko dharti ke bhagwan mana jata hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain..... Jaha sabhi log desh ke liye marte hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha mahatma gandhi, Bhagat singh, Subash chandra bose jaise beero ne janam liya tha, Hum us desh ke vashi hain..... Jaha par sanchai aur ekta mishal hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha ki nadiya sudha jal deti hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain..... Jise log bharat ya india kahte hain...       JAY HIND                JAY BHARAT
0
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 4:34 AM UTC
HUM US DESH KE VASHI HAIN......
We live in a country, where people are respected. We live in a country, where people 's unity. We live in a country, Where the hotel is supposed to be god. We live in a country, Where women are like goddess worship. We live in a country, Where hindu muslim sikh and christians are all brothers. We live in a country, where parents are considered to be the god of the earth. We live in a country, where all people have to die for the country. We live in a country, Where subash chandra, Azad and Bhagat singh was born as braves. We live in a country, Where truth and honesty is a precedent. We live in a country, Where the rivers are provide pure water. We live in a country, where the flag is always undulate. we live in a country, Those who call india. JAY HIND         JAY BHARAT
0
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 3:49 AM UTC
WE LIVE IN A COUNTRY
Seteguk apapun, semua tak akan berakhir Aku adalah seorang pemabuk yang selalu menguarkan harum arak kemanapun aku pergi. Anggur, dan berbotol-botol ***** telah kutenggak pagi ini. Dan hanya hari ini pula aku ingin bicara, tentang segenggam racun yang kalian semua suntik ke dalam nadi dan pembuluhku. Topeng yang dengan bangga kalian pakai tak ubahnya ketelanjangan hanya mengumbar malu dan aib Tawa yang sesenggukan kalian jeritkan hanyalah tangis jiwa kalian yang memudar memutihkan kejujuran dan kebajikan Oh, beginikah cara kerja dunia berduri dan berbatu, sama saja disetiap lajurnya kemanapun aku pergi, dijejali mulutku dengan dusta dan hanya dusta belaka Menghitamnya jiwaku, seandainya bagai langit malam tak ada chandra di ufuknya Sudah selayaknya aku berkabung atas jiwaku, dimana dia merintih penuh sesal dan tanya. Apakah lalu lalang motor dan diesel itu memusingkan kepala atau hanya sebuah kesibukan belaka. Dan dengan itu pula jiwaku berakhir, terdiam, dalam kematian. Kukubur dia dengan layak, diantara nisan-nisan lain disekitarku, yang diberi nomor, sesuai urutannya. Jiwaku tersungkur di nomor tujuh. Beruntung sekali! Kukubur dia, pelan sekali dengan tertidur. Tak berharap bangun lagi di keesokan pagi. Kutaburi bunga-bunga dan prosa yang harum, dan kusiram dengan sebotol Martini dan bir. Harum. Seharum embun yang kau injak ditepian jalan. Wangi. Sewangi sukmamu yang kuingat telah pergi. Aku adalah pemabuk. Yang selalu menenteng sebotol arak, bermabuk di tepian jalan kehidupan. Mengambil jeda diantara kalimat-kalimat mencela dan busuk, yang tergelincir masuk ke dalam telingaku. Botol-botol inilah sang penawar, berminum pula para nabi terdahulu menyesali umatnya, sedangkan aku? Menyesali kalian.
0
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 12:30 PM UTC
Sebotol Penawar
Seteguk apapun, semua tak akan berakhir Aku adalah seorang pemabuk yang selalu menguarkan harum arak kemanapun aku pergi. Anggur, dan berbotol-botol ***** telah kutenggak pagi ini. Dan hanya hari ini pula aku ingin bicara, tentang segenggam racun yang kalian semua suntik ke dalam nadi dan pembuluhku. Topeng yang dengan bangga kalian pakai tak ubahnya ketelanjangan hanya mengumbar malu dan aib Tawa yang sesenggukan kalian jeritkan hanyalah tangis jiwa kalian yang memudar memutihkan kejujuran dan kebajikan Oh, beginikah cara kerja dunia berduri dan berbatu, sama saja disetiap lajurnya kemanapun aku pergi, dijejali mulutku dengan dusta dan hanya dusta belaka Menghitamnya jiwaku, seandainya bagai langit malam tak ada chandra di ufuknya Sudah selayaknya aku berkabung atas jiwaku, dimana dia merintih penuh sesal dan tanya. Apakah lalu lalang motor dan diesel itu memusingkan kepala atau hanya sebuah kesibukan belaka. Dan dengan itu pula jiwaku berakhir, terdiam, dalam kematian. Kukubur dia dengan layak, diantara nisan-nisan lain disekitarku, yang diberi nomor, sesuai urutannya. Jiwaku tersungkur di nomor tujuh. Beruntung sekali! Kukubur dia, pelan sekali dengan tertidur. Tak berharap bangun lagi di keesokan pagi. Kutaburi bunga-bunga dan prosa yang harum, dan kusiram dengan sebotol Martini dan bir. Harum. Seharum embun yang kau injak ditepian jalan. Wangi. Sewangi sukmamu yang kuingat telah pergi. Aku adalah pemabuk. Yang selalu menenteng sebotol arak, bermabuk di tepian jalan kehidupan. Mengambil jeda diantara kalimat-kalimat mencela dan busuk, yang tergelincir masuk ke dalam telingaku. Botol-botol inilah sang penawar, berminum pula para nabi terdahulu menyesali umatnya, sedangkan aku? Menyesali kalian.
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27
*mummy, mummy, who invented school?* oh, sweetheart, what a clever girl you are; why don't you tell me first who you think invented school? *I think, mummy, school must have been invented it must be by people like old grumpy Uncle Grim next door; and the grouchy Aunty Scowl who lives behind our house* oh no, darling, oh no, not at all: O darling, wise men and women of the past they invented school *oh, mummy, they couldn't have been wise not if you went to school and see what happens in class; surely those men and women of the past couldn't have been wise if they created places where little kids are tested every three days; and little John thinks he's stupid and little Sue says she'd rather stay at home and sleep; and Tua and Helen are always tense and nervous and Chandra snores while the teacher talks* oh no - oh, no darling, oh no, it's not like that at all: O darling, they were wise and all-knowing those sage men and women of the past who invented school so little children like you and your friends can go and learn all you need to know *but why mummy, why a school? is it because daddy and you and grandma and grandpa you know nothing and you can't teach me what I need to know?* oh, no darling, oh no not at all; O darling, you must listen to mummy - wise men and women of the past most certainly they invented school
0
Oct 19, 2010
Oct 19, 2010 at 10:31 AM UTC
mummy, mummy who invented school?
Misalabi is a town That we can call our own Here everyone gets feed Even if it's not a human breed. Behind the beautiful walls Of molten rock Live people with big ***** In this little town We have our own clown. Crowds are filled with enthusiasts We are estranged From everyone By dreams and goals. Everyone wants to be someone Everyone wants to chase With hope as their base Like 'Ethu' the sailor Everyone wants to taste failure But never give up on dreams That's what we have been taught By "Ethu" the sailor. We can't borrow Anyone's situation, anyone's talent We got a use what we have That's what we learned from Ethu's courageous stories That are popular in Misalbi town Told many times by our own clown. We all need the clown Of Misalabi town That laugh away every pain every failure And who is so much inspired by "Ethu"the sailor. Here days are hope After every dawn That anyone can be in top Only if we give our best for sown. ~Naidu Chandra Pegu ~
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Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 1:03 AM UTC
World of Our Own
There is a guy Who wants  to fly To the blue sky He had been told Not to chase dreams But he is indeed bold Cause he had not given up on what he  hold... He is in  searching for a new world In the lonely road he is on Dreams and courage are only his own. They told him he is mad For they think his decisions are bad His eyes  began tear For the things that he fear But he didn't  thought  for things that could harm Even whisky and *** Has level it can cause some. The world that he is searching where no one's eyelashes are wet Where you can get anything you desire Where no one is there to judge your attires That world is fading Cause dust of cruelty and greed That they have breed In their souls For they want to win don't care fair or foul Nor despondency  nor despair Could ever break him Cause when the mind soar He knows that how to roar He reached his destination With flowers in hand No! He didn't go anywhere He just changed his way of living He just changed the way of seeing the world He just become the part of revolution That is to stop demonical evolution ..... ~NAIDU CHANDRA PEGU~
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Nov 20, 2016
Nov 20, 2016 at 5:21 AM UTC
THE GUY WHO WANTS TO FLY TO THE BLUE SKY
I know you're not mine But OK! its fine Even though i can't ask you for dine Nor for a cup of wine . I try to be indifferent when he holds you in his arms Though I'm not a charm But i know he is a harm. I want you to be happy off course But want to be the source Its a paradox but personified. The roses that I gifted you Embellish your fair Only if you tie in your hair. My intentions are crystal clear To love you and to be loved by you. Its my heart and my will I will spark love In every breathe that you take. It's my  game And it is certainly not for love fame Great love stories in history For me are always a mystery . I will die in shame The day I forget to love you I can spend my whe life in expecting  the same. I'm optimistic But not being realistic I dream to conquer every Chamber of your heart . I don't belong to the naysayers For I know god answer my prayers. My glance turn into stare How long i have to bare This pain Without having anything gain. I'm on a roller coaster That goes neither up nor down . I'm starting to wonder Is it because of my skin colour brown ? My one sided affection I want to deliver it to you without defection The imperial affection.      The end Naidu Chandra Pegu
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Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 11:29 AM UTC
Imperial affection
On empty street   As I pass by My faith fades As there is no shades Just  fallen leaves Just fallen leaves Oh lé mother earth Behold these greedy humans Behold them exploiting you Their eyes glows with never ending thirst Their hearts are darker then the dark And a mind of hatred On empty street   As I pass by My faith fades As there is no shades Just  fallen leaves Just fallen leaves They are on verge of destruction After  every hurricane They blame each others lands for climate change Non of them really even bothered to ask their conscience And know the devil within They won't change They think freedom is To greed to exploit And they term it as exploring the capability of mother nature For nurturing their kids Oh lé! mighty storm Vanish their lands Oh lé!  mighty storm Wash away  their greed Freeze their lands For they won't change For they won't change On empty street   As I pass by My faith fades As there is no shades Just  fallen leaves Just fallen leaves ~Naidu Chandra Pegu ~
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Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 7:15 AM UTC
Fallen leaves
In the rage of the majestic storm I am not afraid For you are my hope Even in the rocking boat I'm cocky as the majestic storm For you are with me For you are with me I know I'm lost I know I'm lost Lost in your love Lost in your world I'm lost in you .... In the wilderness of your heart Oh! My love I'm lost For you are with me For you are my hope For I know I'm yours you are mine .... In the dark I am not afraid For I know we will find our way home For I know you are with me For I know you are my hope For I know you are my sunshine For I know I'm yours you are mine... Written by Naidu Chandra Pegu
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Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 10:46 AM UTC
I am yours you are mine
no cliche flowers, petals ripped off and stuffed under our naked bodies. no sweet nothings whispered into the deepest crevices of my ears. no, nothing but ratty floral couch under freezing toes, and silent breathing -we didnt want to wake up his friends parents- it didnt hurt, he moved my body like i was the ocean tide pulling in and out it felt like a mixture of cold disbelief and riveting ecstasy. he didnt even know it was my first time, and when i told him later, poison almost visibly dripped down his lips, but he was quick to **** it back in and sugarcoat it with honey flavored chapstick. and i'm not saying i regret it because it was nice. but "nice" is not enough for Chandra Lunah Moore. and afterwards, when he tried to lock me to the small foam and spring innards couch with his soft legs glowing golden with the help of an off-kilter lamp in the corner, when my muscles strained against his, i knew the frightening power of human desire. how when he didnt offer a drag from his cigarette at all afterwards, just ****** at it needily, all for himself, didnt drape his jacket around my treacherously shivering shoulders like he had on the walk there, didnt carry me the rest of the way, stomping through the snow, lips bitter after two long drags off a joint, he didnt hold me like he did so many times before, (almost like he believed he was heavier with the weight of my saved up childhood, like some kind of bank account. life savings, dragging on his shoulders, making them, sag. skin heavy with my touch. and i was lighter, without it. i could walk. he was obviously carrying the real burden.) i knew, when he kissed me goodbye and it tasted like a wasted night spent on not getting what he wanted i knew he was meaningless and i would never again settle for                                      just                                             nice.
0
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
lesson learned.
no cliche flowers, petals ripped off and stuffed under our naked bodies. no sweet nothings whispered into the deepest crevices of my ears. no, nothing but ratty floral couch under freezing toes, and silent breathing -we didnt want to wake up his friends parents- it didnt hurt, he moved my body like i was the ocean tide pulling in and out it felt like a mixture of cold disbelief and riveting ecstasy. he didnt even know it was my first time, and when i told him later, poison almost visibly dripped down his lips, but he was quick to **** it back in and sugarcoat it with honey flavored chapstick. and i'm not saying i regret it because it was nice. but "nice" is not enough for Chandra Lunah Moore. and afterwards, when he tried to lock me to the small foam and spring innards couch with his soft legs glowing golden with the help of an off-kilter lamp in the corner, when my muscles strained against his, i knew the frightening power of human desire. how when he didnt offer a drag from his cigarette at all afterwards, just ****** at it needily, all for himself, didnt drape his jacket around my treacherously shivering shoulders like he had on the walk there, didnt carry me the rest of the way, stomping through the snow, lips bitter after two long drags off a joint, he didnt hold me like he did so many times before, (almost like he believed he was heavier with the weight of my saved up childhood, like some kind of bank account. life savings, dragging on his shoulders, making them, sag. skin heavy with my touch. and i was lighter, without it. i could walk. he was obviously carrying the real burden.) i knew, when he kissed me goodbye and it tasted like a wasted night spent on not getting what he wanted i knew he was meaningless and i would never again settle for                                      just                                             nice.
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60
Every year on 26th January I turn on my TV at 8 To watch our soldiers marching, planes gliding and tanks rolling through India Gate Watching these soldiers march in their handsome uniforms makes me extremely proud And on this day we also mourn the losses of people who, for the Nation, wore the shroud This day, unlike others, isn’t just a holiday for me It symbolises the day when, from British rule, we finally broke free The sacrifice and struggle that Indians went through then were huge In their own country, they couldn’t be a refuge Jawaharlal Nehru, Mahatma Gandhi, Subhash Chandra Bose were a few who fought for our country and shot to fame But what about the thousand others who sacrificed their entire lives, but we still don’t know their name! Do you know why 26th January 1950 was the chosen date? Because exactly 20 years on the same date the INC proclaimed the Declaration of Independence after winning the debate! This day celebrates the coming into force of India’s constitution This is the world’s largest document and respects every institution But after all these years is India still an independent republic Or is it a monarch hiding in the skins of general public?
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Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 7:34 AM UTC
REPUBLIC DAY
But when I look into your eyes I see innocency........ But when I Look into your eyes I see obscurity But when I Look into your eyes I could see thousand years You and me spending together Side by side In each other's warmth Growing old in each other's company ..... ~NAIDU CHANDRA PEGU~
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Nov 4, 2017
Nov 4, 2017 at 10:58 AM UTC
WHEN I LOOK INTO YOUR EYES
Another dull winter day painfully crawls away into garden-variety biography just a run-of-the-mill résumé filled with antecedents whilom and to top it up a corrosive impostor syndrome. I lie quietly in the flickering, yellow light of a jaundice-stricken forty-watt bulb trying to think about something superb which would somehow improve the way things do (or do not) move in my achromatic life. Nothing worthwhile emerges. Only some vague urges act out from their stingy hideouts. The clock pushes the evening further into the dry, arid chill of the night so still. I sigh and switch off my ghost-like sleepy, vapid eyes into the ancient time-line of a vast, un-bridged solitude in my quarantined, immotile life. © Chandra S., 1995
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Jan 28, 2020
Jan 28, 2020 at 10:09 AM UTC
The Ancient Immotility
Passion is carefree, often buoyant.....breezy, and is absolved perpetually of prohibitory rationality. Being logged in to it for a little over eternity, this is exactly how I have felt: intense, steamy ...maybe a bit frenzied. Passion is also a sudden, swift salvo. On many a fleeting occasion, ergo; I have come perilously close to suggesting my maudlin ardor and poetically propose an incredible romance, which if you dismiss; shall break my heart in two and if not; shall break a home or two. It is like this therefore, that I have come to feel like an outlawed fugitive and as if in the wink of an eye, a million lonesome nights have passed, sorely bruising and tearing me apart between the hearth and the heart. Tonight: the first one after those million; I am transcribing my thought to tell you that I am hooked, as though in a playback loop - a weary, age-old vinyl record; pitching forward, skipping backward in a pestering, irksome Xerox of scratches, static and blips; all in the same little sector where there was once music. ❉ Maybe that is why I surprisingly realize the pain of passion, and slowly capsize into a drifting, dry sleep devoid of all dreams of you. © Chandra S., 2013
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Jan 9, 2020
Jan 9, 2020 at 7:15 PM UTC
The Pain of Passion
Sometimes you feel so low and sometimes so high,'melodies',yes it's all about the melodies. Sometimes you get them,sometimes you don't.I was watching a leaf falling from a tree at a very low speed and I knew if I run I could get that but my half of the energy got ******* while thinking and half in running and I couldn't get that.Though I was determined but I couldn't get that. Life is like this only,once you think that you got the moment in your hands,somebody from the other planet seizes that moment.Nothing is sure,me,you or anybody can die right at this moment,the cause may be anything. In the end,sometimes it will be crest and sometimes it will be trough.But we all need to maintain that entropy. ~Himanshu Chandra
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Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 3:37 PM UTC
Sometimes
At the foothills of vintage age you feel perceptibly less somber for there are only meager remains of mostly forgotten days -       little to smile, rue or cry for and an amorphous yet obligingly finite future -       trifling to put together or fight for. So dear Chandra: here is a congratulation: It must be awesome - this imminent privilege of geriatrics and this stolen bit of transient freedom;       the real laissez-faire to yearn       and to die for. timorously cajoled from time’s exacting, puritan dictum.
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Dec 28, 2019
Dec 28, 2019 at 8:38 AM UTC
Laissez-faire
Sublime feeling,destroying Ladders of pain,painstakingly furious. A pure evening,she's dress'd, Black and white,curious. Candles,small lights flickering across the balcony, My blood,colour disrupted,cunning. The black thread on my left hand,running tight, She'd say,to open it. Lots of stories hidden inside that,how can I remove, How can I remove? My thumb,still feels weak, Walls of my heart feels leak. All the shadow running in my intestine, feels like large is merged with small, Her beautiful eyes,weird like marijuana, feels like amphetamines, Superhero I was. Not frightened with sadness of darkness, Frightened with the fake obligations of happiness. Shakiness of my school streets has gone, The taste,aroma of tarmac has gone. Feels like she's still there with orange bar in her hand, Lips orange,soul red and pure, And I collected clay in the form of sand. -Himanshu Chandra
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Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 3:14 PM UTC
Old school