"dovish" poems
He brought us up with dovish love
He cautioned us to be serpent wise,
He took us to schools each of us
In a genuine dream to forestall future misery
He fed us well from his meagre earnings,
He discriminated not love among the siblings
We grew up united in family bond,
He made us all to walk tall and proud
As sons and daughters of credible father,
He taught me in particular to read Mahatma Gandhi,
He inspired me with love for Napoleon Bonaparte,
He named me Alexander as a nomenclatural ritual
To procure spiritualities of charm and intellect,
He did us good and indeed we must all agree
As evinced in the love he gave to our mother,
We saw no fearful stress of threatening estrangement
As our mother always clang to us with superior enthusiasm.
He only began to feel pain on every swallow,
Saliva, other liquids and solid stuffs he painfully swallowed
He lost and lost weight on each day as we could do nothing,
But his wisdom and sense of humane picked,
Phenomenally usual precursor of impending death,
He got emaciated and weakling, his feeding decimated,
I desperately took him to hospital and surrendered him
To a man wearing humongous glasses on his bearded face,
The community of that place called him a doctor,
He checked my father and came out with a stark tiding;
Young man, your father has throat cancer!
The barium swallows has indicated all these,
There is eminent presence of tumors and carcinoma
Known for their foul perpetration of oesophagus cancer,
I received this dooms day news with mild trepidation,
He was discharged back to his village home
He died two days later in his hut, on his marital bed
The wooden bed with wick-work of strappings and strings
Crafted from stone hard animal hides and skins,
And it was Christmas day of December 2000,
At three in the afternoon, when my father died
Succumbing to death caused by throat cancer.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 2:34 AM UTC
Through the forest of passion
Watching man's heartfelt nature
Peace, passion, fear and pain
In concert within one frame
Nurturing all, with peace and warmth
Growing along, in peace at war.
Afraid to unleash all that's locked-up inside
Mists of passion - enshrouding - limited sight.
Love enroots the longing within the heart
And the mind is ceased and gone
Pain feeds on fear of loss
Dovish flower withers, thus...
Earth shakes,
Sun's darkened,
Forest is filled with despair.
Green turns red,
And then grey
Afire - forest decayed.
Laid in ashes,
Staring at the face of the night,
Fragments of hope, spread across her face,
Remarking my fall from grace.
Through the forest of passion
Life remains sans ambition
Peace, passion, fear, and pain
Disharmonic and mundane.
Written by: Mahdi "Monstrosity" Dn.
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
Dancing on tiptoes
Prancing around in the dark
Feeling. Touching.
Falling into songs of a lark.
Dovish tones
With hawkish excitement
Caught in the throes
Of devilish enlightenment.
Cries of pure ecstacy
Battles in sweet rain
A nearby fantasy
In a far far away place.
Clashing tongues
Of silver. Of knives.
A softening slate
In between lives.
A sour dream
In a fifteen carat cage
Locked in a world for two
Deep. Love. Rage.
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 6:48 PM UTC
The large army of sadhus and saints,
Oh! Don’t mistake them for dovish men.
If it came between a man or a calf,
They’ll shoot the man and spit on his corpse.
That valiant army fought many battles,
Armed with axes, sticks, hammers and sickles.
They once tore down a giant monster,
That looked more like a temple of a competing order.
Having reclaimed their lord’s birthplace,
Bringing pride and honor upon their race.
Vultures hovering above at a height,
Waiting to stoop below for a fight.
Front changes, battle rages on,
Heat of the sun, to cool of the bar.
Fire within kept burning,
Fueled by love and hate churning.
I now seek permission to blasphemise,
For I question the lord they canonize.
Isn’t it dastardly
For a slayer of demons
To seek help of mere mortals?
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 8:55 PM UTC
the moon mislays its luminosity
as the stars started to decay,
they fell like crying meteors
and they kissed the sea beneath the algid breeze.
a detonation of the ocean tossed,
dripping droplets on my body.
in that night, i watched how the world I built,
reached its downfall.
your eyes were an ambiance,
stained by thunderstorms
and tinted by the abysmal sea.
it was too deep to swim at
but i loved being drowned
and being wobbled with its breeze.
and as you cry in pain or bliss,
i was always like being washed away
by voluminous tidal waves,
and i ended up in an island full of chiseled sand,
in there I realize, when you cry,
i suffer.
yet as you turned those eyes
to somebody else,
i felt like my paradise was finally stolen.
my shivery ocean evaporated
my blinking stars were ***** by dimmed clouds
my crescent was torned into pieces
and the unwanted rain poured down
showering me and the dovish land,
that's when my tears became jealous,
of how the tiny droplets stream down,
that's when i realized,
i'm already crying.
this poem maybe the last one i wrote for you,
telling how my world was stumbled, was burned,
and was turned into ashes—
after you'd left me with my trembling toes.
this is not a poem of goodbye,
but it's a poem of letting go.
May 11, 2019
May 11, 2019 at 4:39 AM UTC