"donno" poems
I’m nobody’s child,
I’m nobody’s child
I’m like a flower just growing wild
No mommy’s kisses and
no daddy’s smiles
Nobody wants me,
Because I’m nobody’s child.
I can’t seem to understand
Why the folks all pass me by
‘Cause I know it’s true that
I will die and go far away in the sky.
A place I want to leave behind,
but always blaring in my mind.
I cannot run and cannot hide.
from the darkness that lies inside.
the answers I seek to find.
questions I donno of which kind.
My body so cold and eyes are dry.
No mother’s arms to hold me when I cry.
Sometimes it gets so lonely here.
I wish I could die and go there.
And I don't wanna see those face
That I don't care!
Because I’m nobody’s child,
I’m nobody’s child.
I’m like a flower just growing wild.
No mommy’s kisses and
No daddy’s smiles,
Nobody wants me,
And I’m nobody’s child.
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 4:02 PM UTC
New life..
New begining...
Ready to fly.,
No suffering...
New life..
New begining...
*Whateva's done.,
whateva' coming..
you donno.,
then why u crying..
live in today.,
coz u got the day..
forget the pain.,
& hav enjoy... . . . .
Coz its a...
New life..
New begining...
Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 8:18 AM UTC
Comes quite quickly end denies
No longer able fantasize
What a fool prioritize
To feed myself such wicked lies
Overwhelms in tortured cries
The only love ive known still dies
What a fool, you, I despise
Feebly I demonize
Oh god agree **** compromise
Take me instead this ****** surprise
So ******* wrong, internalize
To walk your shoes arent my size
Someday dunno when realiez
The good, the bad, and always dies
We all born will live to die
Be so torn, we'll give our lies
Free to mourn all ****** goodbyes
Agree adorned with compromise
I'm still here
Do they hear?
By all means what I held dear
Forest falling, no one near
I donno quite how I appear
All I know is we're
Alive
I'm still here
Revive
good cheer
To thrive
my dear
The drive
to steer
Alive we hear
Alive we're here
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 4:24 PM UTC
In life, there are so many instances where we see some of the most amazing scenes but regret of not having an SLR camera with us to capture 'em. I have so many such beautiful pics captured in my brain and just wanna put them out here!! ;)
It was a beautiful sunny day in spite of being rainy season…I got ready to office in a very typical hurry – burry leisure and came out to bus stop. I have one good habit of not getting i-rated even if the bus does not show up for half an hour or so. That’s mainly coz I start observing every minute thing during the wait : P Like the way people walk, the patterns on morning sky, various fonts used on shop names, people’s expressions in vehicles…what not :D .
Amidst these inspections, one view caught my sight in delight. I saw a middle aged lady in her dusty clothes. She looked pale and thin with curly hair that looked not so neat. She was sweeping the shoulders raising a lot of sand. While all was nothing so special, came a little girl running from where I donno!!.The lady looked at her keeping aside her broom and took over her on her shoulders.
As I moved my eyes a little to the right, I saw a dirt cart which is usually kept to throw the garbage. Here follows the most astonishing scene. To my disbelief, the lady placed the kid in it. She continued sweeping. From the background of many huge trees, the sun rays escaped out and lightened up the whole natural setting that was created. Now all I saw was laughter on the little angel not bothered about anything in the world but the dust that was rising. She clapped and clapped her hands while it looked like the sun rays also joined their hands to make an unheard tune. So unintentionally and innocently, did her movements create various stunning patterns of dirt that created a foggy look.
This was the moment I wanted to click it J
Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 7:14 AM UTC
How to expect a day without you.
Even if the memories between us are very few.
I used to go again and again through our conversation.
They all undergo into my heart for preservation.
I donno whether you think of me or not.
But not forgetting you even for a second is the fact.
There are no units to measure my love treasure.
Having u in my life is all time pleasure
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 2:23 AM UTC
*Amidst your bewildering life ,
you meet someone and its so clear that the two of you are familiar to each other , that on some level you belong together.
As lovers , as bestfriends , as friends , as family , or as something which is beyond any relationship...utterly different.
There is this link that you know from the very start. You just work whether you understand one another or you dont , whether ur lovers of insanity or partners in crime. You come across these people through out ur splendid life, out of nowhere , under the most perplexing circumstances but you know that no matter what,they are always there. Not for anybody else. But you.
They make you feel alive , like ur not off-track and that they always dazzle ur life with exclusive support,fondness and tenderness.
I donno if that's what you call co-incidence or fate, or sheer blind luck but it definitely makes me believe in something.
Something which is beyond words.
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 7:49 AM UTC
I interrogate art,
It's just my nature
And you are art,
So inhale deeply on those cigarettes that you love so much because I always quietly imagine what it must be like to be nestled so tenderly between your full lips.
Inhale my love,
because I love how calm you become when you strike a match against the Lions match box as if this is the 80's and you're
Kurt Cobain because I know his songs don't quite capture the angst that rests just below the surface of your grin.
And God when you grin it's like watching a ********** make love to a client,
It's like breaking all my own rules
I feel like I'm watching something I shouldn't but I can't walk away because I am the client and when you look at me like that it's like I'm set ablaze.
And I haven't even described your touch
and in all honesty I can't
because who would be bold enough to claim that they have wrapped their hands firmly around the wind.
How could I begin to describe the way it feels when you touch me because something about your presence alone
is intimate even if we're standing next to each other in a packed room.
Your touch is like a scalpel against treated flesh, precise, intense, purposeful but most importantly healing.
You hurt
almost with the intent of healing
because how else do I describe the fact that I am a woven tapestry and with one tug of my thread you have me unravelled.
I still haven't figured it out,
when it was that you figured out how I worked.
Perhaps it was in the moments where I was so engrossed in studying your every action you realized that you had created your own personal anthropologist but that implies that I had the upper hand
and we both know that isn't the case.
You are my muse and even your lipstain left on an empty glass of lager is enough to keep me occupied.
You are my muse and every emotional outbreak fuels my desire to document all your actions even faster, like a deranged professor I detail your actions trying to calculate when exactly it is that I became engrossed within the art work that is you.
You are my muse and every utter of your lips is like you wrapping your hand around mine and running the pen along the page.
You are my muse and I enjoy watching you smoke because I always wonder if I'll savour the taste of your lips the way you do those cigarettes. Somehow I'm sure I will.
It's an addiction really, to the way you occupy space,
like a curator in a gallery with one artwork alone -
I am completely absorbed.
I feel like an artist charged with restoration of something magnificent except I donno where the restoration is taking place, within You or I.
You are my muse and God I wonder why no one warned me that art speaks back.
Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 3:24 PM UTC