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"elongate" poems
And if you think I'm oppressed, covering my hair with a silken headdress- And if you think I'm forced, beaten, to lengthen my sleeves and elongate my shorts- And if you think I'm afraid, cowering under the protection of black linen shade- You 'most certainly take note of the society's improprieties, that the abaya I wear is thrusted upon me, that the niqab my sisters practice is only for he; No. My hijab is my personality, my promise to honour my femininity, to never allow anyone, any man, to use me; I am a woman, a human, a feminist: no man will control me.
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May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 9:13 AM UTC
Hijab
The shadows have their seasons, too. The feathery web the budding maples cast down upon the sullen lawn bears but a faint relation to high summer's umbrageous weight and tunnellike continuum- black leached from green, deep pools wherein a globe of gnats revolves as airy as an astrolabe. The thinning shade of autumn is an inherited Oriental, red worn to pink, nap worn to thread. Shadows on snow look blue. The skier, exultant at the summit, sees his poles elongate toward the valley: thus each blade of grass projects another opposite the sun, and in marshes the mesh is infinite, as the winged eclipse an eagle in flight drags across the desert floor is infinitesimal. And shadows on water!- the beech bough bent to the speckled lake where silt motes flicker gold, or the steel dock underslung with a submarine that trembles, its ladder stiffened by air. And loveliest, because least looked-for, gray on gray, the stripes the pearl-white winter sun hung low beneath the leafless wood draws out from trunk to trunk across the road like a stairway that does not rise.
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4.7k
Penumbrae
I’ve met 37 girls named Sarah. My name. Sarah. Five letters, nothing special. It’s not beautiful like Lena. Not creative like Anastasia. No one has any trouble pronouncing it. Which I guess isn’t all that bad. Until they go into that story about that one Sarah who gives my name a bitter taste in their mouth. Spiting out the two syllable, five letter word that defines me, like they know something about me. “Oh Sarah, I knew a Sarah once.” Please don’t say my name like that, don’t elongate that first a, cut sharp the sound of the r, only to drop the h at the end. Five letters said as if there are only four.
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May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 8:39 PM UTC
Sarah
You measure in vast spaces that my memory fills Revolving. I take you where you thought before you might get left behind. Instead Our Love is sly references to Private Jokes and how your eyes light up as you twirl around inside your favorite Polka Dot Dress. Knowing “That’s when I think you look your best.” With Egyptian eyeliner to illuminate the understatement. Kudos. Deserved, after all you do accept (Not without forgiving humour...) A latent tendency in myself to elongate an awkward silence after committing whichever topical and firmly established social faux pas given the setting. Not forgetting, my oft lauded lack of a certain finesse Establishes around my name a peculiar sentiment Windswept spiky hair and caught-out schoolboy face Notwithstanding. Perhaps, “it’s clever not to deny the girl” her entertainment.
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Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 4:52 PM UTC
Private Jokes and a Polka Dot Dress
We are forward open thinkers we dream of a new without forgetting what was With peculiarities spawned eccentricity to keep us ourselves as one, like no one Without urge to be separate we are oneself together, we stand alone Side stepped and vertically diagonal with grace, not trials in stride From the waking moment routine each day changes course with similarities while optional barriers are welcome to overcome with effort And using that effort to affect wisdoms spread and elongate strength We work for our capacity, at home we also work, to make a better day To create, To expand to not keep motionless our minds our hands our brains in bloom. And think and hold this knowledge tight at one point it will open the mind of our young, to lose self and to give. To always give. Minimize me, I, or mine. Talk through with question, regardless of proof, or wrongfulness. And wonder about laws and why? We think. We know. To traverse with love In between and the seconds linking, we desire The ones we are near, can feel without doubt and never wonder if love was emitted. We will communicate frequently how they make us whole and have affected us to completion and reraise when obstacles come towards With complex strength and wage forward, insist the double down Using knowledge, work, perseverance, and to bring it all home To positively conquer ...using love.
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Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 3:35 PM UTC
Growth in Radiance
Somewhere between the ruthless January and the grey Springs, I realized that my feet had begun to sink way too under the ocean bed and that I could no longer swim; and to call it suffocating would be an understatement. I never could justify to myself the need I held of listening to your voice. Sometimes, I would listen to the dial tone for hours and fall asleep to it; and to call it crippling would be an understatement. I spent Saturday night without you, flipping through old photographs and listening to blues. I can tell from what it felt like inside, that I have never been more neglected. And to call myself abandoned would be an understatement. I would watch the short shadows elongate and the rising sun, set and yet, I thought that if I waited a little more, I could figure out why I wasn’t just scarred but, scarred to death. And to call myself numb would be an understatement. And with each time you hung up on me, each time you made me cry, each time you left me alone, left me to here to die, I put on a broken smile. And to call it love would be an understatement.
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Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 2:52 PM UTC
Understatements
Colors fade together Lines blur Madly, truly, deeply, for an instant Moved to hate, in an instant I wish so despairingly That I could Love You But know that I never will I wish so desperately that I could Love Someone, Anyone Yet I know I never can Bones elongate, stretch to impossible lengths Soul trapped inside Manically rattling its prison walls Begging to live To be set free to hug the steaming pavement until Skin slithers away like worms; Mindless, fearful Begging to love you, whoever you are
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Mar 30, 2011
Mar 30, 2011 at 8:55 AM UTC
Begging
i write you tens of letters which i then break in hundreds of pieces i fill thousands of pages with your name and then i press assertively the red button in the corner and you dissapear off of the screen of my mind of my heart not really and i don't know what to do to get you out of here i squeeze this soul out of any sentiment that could exist within so then i could squeeze you out as well but **** you you are still stubborn and you don't want to and i try and you won't and in vain i am tired i don't want this anymore i go to sleep at night with hope tomorrow i will be clean of you and i wake up in the morning and one more bud one more root one more blade is pushing through well is it fair? now tell me what do i do? but you are silent more than ever but you elongate you arms more and more and further and further and you squeeze more and more and harder and harder and it is more and more loathsome more and more terrible more and more longing it's ****
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Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 10:36 AM UTC
until when?
Flesh scaling mossy rock, trepidatious toes clamber on. Seraphic sunlight beating down on naked back. Approaching the edge of all fears. Standing on the pinnacle. Surrounded by the best friends in  the world. all there is to do is let go forever. brace the fall, elongate with majesty. Rhythmic heart, beating on all cylinders. Di Dum: Fear Di Dum: Anxiety Di Dum: Stress End of celestial descent. Arrival in ecstasy. Piercing icy blue water, rinsing away all woes. Circles of smiles, and unprecedented unity. In nothingness, therein lies the foundation of all things. Euphonious drum of waterfall. harmonious chimes of birdsong. Velvet blanket of heart warmth. Soul soothing of clear water. Utopian infinities crystallizing. Dream't like folklore and now realized.   Naked as born with no things and everything. Tight clothed and old with many things and nothing.
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Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 3:56 PM UTC
Oasis
Mine Filipino rose For thee I shalt; Be tossed inside the The Brazen Bull; Until mine inside's art crisp. Be impaled On wood; Mine head planted on a stick. Be crucified Mine hand's nailed; Thorn's upon mine top. A Lead Sprinkler To sprinkle lava; In mine throat lost. An Iron Maiden To taketh the metal; Inside mine liver. Coffin Torture To let the crow's; Pecketh at the splinter's. A thumbscrew To snap me as twigs; As mercy I yelleth. Rope torture To leaveth me exposed; To hell and the element's. The Guillotine As mine head falleth; Into oldened basket. The Rack As mine shoulder's wilt bust; Twisting mine bracket's. Tongue Tearer To knot mine tongue; And rip it at the seam's. The Rat Torture As mine interior wouldst be ripped; Rat's burrowing inside me, scream's. The chair of torture As edge's impale mine spine; Hellion seating. Cement Shoes In the bottom of the sea; Wherein noone canst heareth me. Crocodile Shears To gut me as a fish; Reptilian grip's. The Breaking Wheel Wherein mine limb's art tied up to spokes, hammered by devil's; I crack, Snapple, pop, as mine bones elongate, mine blood chokes. Sitting on the Spanish Donkey Mine carrion torn in twain; As heaven canst feeleth mine pain, for thee I'd screameth again. Saw Torture As tis the razor's edge wouldst goeth through mine abdomen; Evil bastard's shalt cut me, as I'm praying amen, just to DIETH. Hanged, Drawn, and Quartered It sais it all in the verse; For thee I'd haveth all this done mine queen, for thee to liveth....... ©Brandon nagley ©Earl Jane dedication ©Lonesome poet's poetry
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Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 10:04 PM UTC
19 out of 25 torture's id taketh, for thee to liveth mine reyna...
Mine Filipino rose For thee I shalt; Be tossed inside the The Brazen Bull; Until mine inside's art crisp. Be impaled On wood; Mine head planted on a stick. Be crucified Mine hand's nailed; Thorn's upon mine top. A Lead Sprinkler To sprinkle lava; In mine throat lost. An Iron Maiden To taketh the metal; Inside mine liver. Coffin Torture To let the crow's; Pecketh at the splinter's. A thumbscrew To snap me as twigs; As mercy I yelleth. Rope torture To leaveth me exposed; To hell and the element's. The Guillotine As mine head falleth; Into oldened basket. The Rack As mine shoulder's wilt bust; Twisting mine bracket's. Tongue Tearer To knot mine tongue; And rip it at the seam's. The Rat Torture As mine interior wouldst be ripped; Rat's burrowing inside me, scream's. The chair of torture As edge's impale mine spine; Hellion seating. Cement Shoes In the bottom of the sea; Wherein noone canst heareth me. Crocodile Shears To gut me as a fish; Reptilian grip's. The Breaking Wheel Wherein mine limb's art tied up to spokes, hammered by devil's; I crack, Snapple, pop, as mine bones elongate, mine blood chokes. Sitting on the Spanish Donkey Mine carrion torn in twain; As heaven canst feeleth mine pain, for thee I'd screameth again. Saw Torture As tis the razor's edge wouldst goeth through mine abdomen; Evil bastard's shalt cut me, as I'm praying amen, just to DIETH. Hanged, Drawn, and Quartered It sais it all in the verse; For thee I'd haveth all this done mine queen, for thee to liveth....... ©Brandon nagley ©Earl Jane dedication ©Lonesome poet's poetry
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62
*Skim milk masquerades as cream Wolves self-ordain themselves as custodians Of the “good” of sheep and that they’re a team In the quest for universal good, poor proletarians. A fattened up emaciation That derails the pursuit for accountability Paving way for many a loophole A stranglehold on emancipation The sheep simply merely sign a treaty With fate to elongate their back breaking life before taking a stroll In either heaven or hell, that’s if an afterlife exists. The wolf menace is thus a malignant cyst To “body politic” Posing mind boggling potential harm, worth incisive critique.*
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Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 5:02 AM UTC
Of wolves and sheep.
It's been a time and a half And I finally understand The reason you've gone With the shaman so long. The spirit is free. I'm a color Splintered in three. Crystalline Crystal eyes Well spoken with diction. Many a words I've spoken Have been in ode Romancing you with every breath In the desert The door is ajar We trace the steps of Aztec gods 1/3 becomes 2/4 The sands gleam emerald Our bodies elongate to equine form We blended the horizon line Quetzalcoatl stands before me Serpent in feathers Glows like the spectrum all together. He hands me a seed. And his Eyes smother like lightning. And I Speak in codexed volition. And we Blur the horizon line once more. I stand on the Pacific 20,000 leagues Equine force Carries me to the beach. Sand once more. I feel a twitch in my jaw. Each hand holds a mandible And pulls. Roots emerge And a tree not soon after. Is this what the seed was for? I trot the beach, Jaw no longer in tact. My pallor flesh caked in coagulate Almost recreates my tan skin A gift from the god. I've been on this beach for miles, And Miles And Two whiles. My architecture meanders The brevity of sanity. One eye sees black, The other sees fine. My hair has become matted It knots behind each earlobe And drags on below my knees. Is this what Quetzalcoatl wanted? To see me sifted with the grains of sand In the palm of a child's hand At the beach While on vacation With mom and dad? 20,000 years have passed.
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Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC
Navarro
it rains and i smile. dopamine pumps as water vapor excited by evaporation and exalted by the elevation, wishes to remain in the clouds. but the float is fleeting and eventually a rain falls. with it the water, so enlightened by the episode, returns to the surface as it was before but somehow new. to remember but never miss being a gas, understanding the evanescence of effervescence while everblue junipers caress the wet sidewalk and twigs hug the curb as they float down the street. tomorrow sand will appear at the edges of the road. I haven't watered my garden in over a week. but now spear shaped tendrils of liquid hydrogen monoxide plummet down at twenty two miles per hour making patterns across the wet surface of the earth. in the bright spots rain drop splashes stumble back and forth across the dance floor like cymbal crashes. wasps, grounded by wet wings, begin their slumber early, jaws locked, legs dangling off the stem of a flower whose petals are battered and wet. the newly pregnant ocean swells unnoticeably. streams emerge, rivers rob banks, puddles form around orangeskin pores; and the everblue junipers caress the wet sidewalk. triggering the docile drum of dopamine, pulsing, pumping. prompting the corners of the eating, speaking, spitting hole to elevate, elongate, ebb, and stretch apart exposing crooked violent jagged bones that broke our gum. the docile drum. as water vapor comes to understand the evanescence of effervescence to a syncopated beat, i smile.
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May 28, 2011
May 28, 2011 at 6:43 PM UTC
it rains and i smile
it rains and i smile. dopamine pumps as water vapor excited by evaporation and exalted by the elevation, wishes to remain in the clouds. but the float is fleeting and eventually a rain falls. with it the water, so enlightened by the episode, returns to the surface as it was before but somehow new. to remember but never miss being a gas, understanding the evanescence of effervescence while everblue junipers caress the wet sidewalk and twigs hug the curb as they float down the street. tomorrow sand will appear at the edges of the road. I haven't watered my garden in over a week. but now spear shaped tendrils of liquid hydrogen monoxide plummet down at twenty two miles per hour making patterns across the wet surface of the earth. in the bright spots rain drop splashes stumble back and forth across the dance floor like cymbal crashes. wasps, grounded by wet wings, begin their slumber early, jaws locked, legs dangling off the stem of a flower whose petals are battered and wet. the newly pregnant ocean swells unnoticeably. streams emerge, rivers rob banks, puddles form around orangeskin pores; and the everblue junipers caress the wet sidewalk. triggering the docile drum of dopamine, pulsing, pumping. prompting the corners of the eating, speaking, spitting hole to elevate, elongate, ebb, and stretch apart exposing crooked violent jagged bones that broke our gum. the docile drum. as water vapor comes to understand the evanescence of effervescence to a syncopated beat, i smile.
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84
Some people were naturally graceful She was not But She taught herself how to be; She taught herself the powers of intimidation by ****** tension, gracefulness, and how to look like an iceberg was harboring your heart at all hours of the day She taught herself how to flare her nostrils and elongate her eyes to where they scared the living **** out of you but turned you on just as well She taught herself how to steal hearts and break necks and fill eyes with lust She taught herself how to look like a ******* bat straight out of hell but god forbid that she teach herself how to love She was a glorified bachelorette, a dignified eye catcher; And if anyone could say no to a diamond ring and a promise of forever, She could; And that scared him more than the prospect of *** with one woman for the rest of his life
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Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC
Raised By Grace
Peace will reign Peace will reign Peace will reign When clouds cover the sun And cold is what you feel Inside and out Rays of light Will sweep in And make you warm When hatred seems to be all around And hearts deteriorate with pain love will come restore them all Peace will reign Peace will reign Peace will reign When ignoring the signs And he calls your name You will find Him In your own life, all along When selfish beings Leading short sad lives will realize that living for everyone but themselves Will fill that void And elongate their days Peace will reign Peace will reign Peace will reign
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Dec 3, 2010
Dec 3, 2010 at 2:43 AM UTC
Peace Will Reign
Too-simple eludes as too-complex disturbs the instinct to grasp, clutching at emptiness in trembling fear     Hope says, "there is     always Hope,"         A lure to elongate         the reach, further         overbalancing.               *Hope the crafty wolf               stalks a deer in the glade.* Hope for what? Acquire what? Purchase what? Become what --            that could fulfill the yearning            of the bough for the root?            ...that could elucidate its relentless            aspiration skyward?            Oh, but if -- !                    freeze at the snap of a twig All aflutter at the promise of sweet water against seeking lips      hungry fools chase              Hope for a taste           Into devil wilderness        exposure threatening    surviving by the teeth.    Reduced to mating behavior,          territoriality, predation --               all else forgotten.               *the measured twitch and                  watchful eye fail to outwit                      the cunning wolf in wait* Nowhere we bring ourselves is safe.
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Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 10:37 PM UTC
A Wolf Called Hope
This is your life as a performance. Light on. It’s the horseshoe necklace tickling your neck. And rhythm in between steps. Like tomorrow could die if we sidestep the question mark. You say “hold your breath.” “What about your future?” You say, “ That’s irresponsible. Sit in a giant box covered with lies.” “Shut up play thing. I need to work. You need to work.” Full of something else- We are all full of something else. Bones. Blood. Grandma’s Belgian waffles Freak show? “I’m stuck.” Jack screamed but the child Shut down the headphones. Inside the circus. Wait until he’s let you out! Poor Jack. Here it comes. Wind up the velocity. Elongate your stride. Jibber my jabber. Here comes Jack. And she baked cookies with your initials on top Your name happens to be “Untitled” So there’s a giant question mark. Full of dough and sugar. It tasted like Jack’s defecation. Delicious is mutilation. The East cries at night for the attention of vapor. See the beautiful sunset bleeding into itself. See the orange sky because Of cans soot and damage. The sunset smacks the horizon. See the orange sky because they wouldn’t call you back- Chained to a tree out west. The transition will arrive. Like an annoying child sitting between our see saw We won’t go anywhere. Until they leave and SMACK. I’ve made it ‘round the curve. But I threw up a little syrup. “Shoot for the dot.” And SMACK me harder. And SMACK the shoes. And SMACK those beating bleeding blood bags. But don’t smack your gum. Wrap yourself in pearls but put your ***** feet into heels. Give me something that’s dreadfully whimsical. Jack has made it out alive. With a smile. But the little boy hears his cry. Grasping for life- Shut tight. Light off.
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Mar 15, 2010
Mar 15, 2010 at 9:16 AM UTC
Jack Rhymes With So Many Things
This is your life as a performance. Light on. It’s the horseshoe necklace tickling your neck. And rhythm in between steps. Like tomorrow could die if we sidestep the question mark. You say “hold your breath.” “What about your future?” You say, “ That’s irresponsible. Sit in a giant box covered with lies.” “Shut up play thing. I need to work. You need to work.” Full of something else- We are all full of something else. Bones. Blood. Grandma’s Belgian waffles Freak show? “I’m stuck.” Jack screamed but the child Shut down the headphones. Inside the circus. Wait until he’s let you out! Poor Jack. Here it comes. Wind up the velocity. Elongate your stride. Jibber my jabber. Here comes Jack. And she baked cookies with your initials on top Your name happens to be “Untitled” So there’s a giant question mark. Full of dough and sugar. It tasted like Jack’s defecation. Delicious is mutilation. The East cries at night for the attention of vapor. See the beautiful sunset bleeding into itself. See the orange sky because Of cans soot and damage. The sunset smacks the horizon. See the orange sky because they wouldn’t call you back- Chained to a tree out west. The transition will arrive. Like an annoying child sitting between our see saw We won’t go anywhere. Until they leave and SMACK. I’ve made it ‘round the curve. But I threw up a little syrup. “Shoot for the dot.” And SMACK me harder. And SMACK the shoes. And SMACK those beating bleeding blood bags. But don’t smack your gum. Wrap yourself in pearls but put your ***** feet into heels. Give me something that’s dreadfully whimsical. Jack has made it out alive. With a smile. But the little boy hears his cry. Grasping for life- Shut tight. Light off.
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the docile drum of dopamine, pulsing, pumping. prompting the corners of the eating, speaking, spitting hole to elevate, elongate, ebb, and stretch apart exposing crooked violent jagged bones that broke our gum. the docile drum.
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Apr 12, 2010
Apr 12, 2010 at 5:25 AM UTC
smile
Everything gets quiet when I think of you. The room gets a little bit smaller as the walls creep inward Slowly Upon me, Suffocating me and intoxicating my mind The clock ticks. Ticks. Ticks a little louder, A little more slowly As the seconds seem to elongate themselves through eternity. Each grain placed gently upon the last, with time in between. My heart beats a little bit faster and my thoughts race to keep pace I can't tell you what I'm thinking because The next thought drowns the last Second by second I rock back and forth, slowly, thinking of you As the sun sleeps I dream of you. My eyes glisten when I imagine that slanted smile on to your face I wish I could be there to see it. I wish I could love you like I want to Like I used to. That song has faded The intermission has begun, Preceding the next ensemble. The silence no longer torments me. I am no longer trapped when I think of you. In the silence, I hear collective chants for an encore. Another chance to play it right. Another chance to show my capacity. To outplay my heart and pour out what’s inside.
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Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 11:23 AM UTC
Silent Reverberation
I silence the whispers from my mouth As the jaws elongate out of this life It’s not a yawn but a mouthful whisper The stroke of a songbird in seductive tunes A rise of the pitched crescendo pinches Stroking my ribs and the depths of my soul He know me best and I put my case to rest The king crowned with sorrow haunts me Then he tickles me to the paradisiacal gardens His groove holds me in the gorges of my dreams His breath mists my breath as the weather drowns His claws an embrace that scratches and taunts Still I dare to doubt his flame as it scorches He knows me best as we dive in the oceanic beds
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Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 7:54 AM UTC
His Claws Taunts Me.......He Knows Me Best
My new novel Is now available On the online circle Of Amazon Kindle As a soft copy eBook And as a traditional Hard copy novel It set it in beyond COVID19 days, Read what I write as a PhD scholar. I know that China modified it, Naturally, CoV won't affect us so much. China altered it in the Wuhan lab, They made it a novel Coronavirus, They called it nCoV19, ask why, Because they engineered it in 2019. My novel talks about it, This sin is punished, Not just by India, But also by USA, And everyone sane, There happens WW3, The Negative Axis powers are: China, North Korea & Pakistan Indian Army has HuSaVe's, Human Safety Vehicles, Robotic suits that the DRDO creates. China copies them, Removes the human part, And makes GHOST's, Global Human Omission Safety Transformers. The story is built with a lot of action, some technology and a bit of romance, A lot of red shades make the story, some blues for it and a bit of pink, For writing it, I wasted not a microlitre of real ink. Indian Army comes up with TASIP, Terrestrial Army Soldier Improvement Program, And the protagonist, Ravindra Thakur is selected to be one of them. He becomes a genetically modified soldier, The DRDO has a specialist scientist Dr. Malakar who does it with his team, CRISPR-Cas9 is used to elongate all his telomeres, And now he has stronger chromosomes. Ravindra & his batchmates can handle extreme doses of hormones, Adrenalin, human growth hormone and testosterone to name a few, These hormones can otherwise **** people in such high overdose, But his sixth sense is strengthened and even the seventh & eighth senses top with those, You begin to read it and if you can't put it down, blame it on me, Cross-references to my previous novel help bring your heart closer, Yes, the novel is sci-fi, army, diplomacy and hypothetically viable too.
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Jul 4, 2021
Jul 4, 2021 at 4:24 AM UTC
Swansong: A Tribute?
My new novel Is now available On the online circle Of Amazon Kindle As a soft copy eBook And as a traditional Hard copy novel It set it in beyond COVID19 days, Read what I write as a PhD scholar. I know that China modified it, Naturally, CoV won't affect us so much. China altered it in the Wuhan lab, They made it a novel Coronavirus, They called it nCoV19, ask why, Because they engineered it in 2019. My novel talks about it, This sin is punished, Not just by India, But also by USA, And everyone sane, There happens WW3, The Negative Axis powers are: China, North Korea & Pakistan Indian Army has HuSaVe's, Human Safety Vehicles, Robotic suits that the DRDO creates. China copies them, Removes the human part, And makes GHOST's, Global Human Omission Safety Transformers. The story is built with a lot of action, some technology and a bit of romance, A lot of red shades make the story, some blues for it and a bit of pink, For writing it, I wasted not a microlitre of real ink. Indian Army comes up with TASIP, Terrestrial Army Soldier Improvement Program, And the protagonist, Ravindra Thakur is selected to be one of them. He becomes a genetically modified soldier, The DRDO has a specialist scientist Dr. Malakar who does it with his team, CRISPR-Cas9 is used to elongate all his telomeres, And now he has stronger chromosomes. Ravindra & his batchmates can handle extreme doses of hormones, Adrenalin, human growth hormone and testosterone to name a few, These hormones can otherwise **** people in such high overdose, But his sixth sense is strengthened and even the seventh & eighth senses top with those, You begin to read it and if you can't put it down, blame it on me, Cross-references to my previous novel help bring your heart closer, Yes, the novel is sci-fi, army, diplomacy and hypothetically viable too.
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47
mom? dad? i’m drowning. swimming towards the light above, astringent tears fill my lungs. mom? dad? i can’t breathe. miniscule doses of albuterol escaping from my little plastic inhaler stand meager in the eyes of the overly developed fear, prying its way up the lengths of my throat. mom? dad? there’s a stranger in my room. i stand in front of the mirror waiting for my reflection; waiting to see that little girl, bright, blue eyes, wide smile. but there’s a stranger there instead; bloodshot eyes, inflamed scores down her cheeks, reaking of poor judgement and broken promises. mom? dad? i can’t hear the music. the floor is varnished with broken cds, torn-up sheets of abandoned lyrics, mutilated “i love you”s; but the record player is still on. turning and turning yet i don’t hear a single note, my senses are paralyzed by the blow of my demolished heart. mom? dad? they won’t stop talking. people. people in my head. voices loud as they scream profanities, soft as they whisper lullabies, stern as they bellow punishments. i can’t make sense of those who twist and tug on my heart strings and those who wish to elongate them. i need out. mom? dad?
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May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 5:54 PM UTC
heart break?
There’s a bizarre pleasure To the depressive illusion I want both to be free of it And also cover my head shunning the light of day My body feels stiff, rigid I want to elongate myself Pulling, cracking, arching But the end feels closer The smaller I become Aummmmm Nam Myoho Renge Kyo Namaste It isn’t working. The body is strong The mind and heart They are so weak Resentful of its being A dichotomy of feelings AummmmmmmMMMMMMMMM Among the pillows I scream it out Croaking, raspy. My ears crave The piercing of My Own Voice NAM MYOHO RENGE KYO The pressure builds My head buzzes as resonating repetition Rips through my consciousness The body is bored of the effort Just stop NAMASTE It’s time to get up The end is a long way off Reach. Breathe. Deeper. That’s it. Hold. Breathe. Deeper. That’s right. Feel that? You like that, Don’t you. That feels… Good. It’s not comfortable It’s not pain It is life.
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Jul 3, 2023
Jul 3, 2023 at 9:08 AM UTC
Are We There Yet.
Heart beating fast Pushing adrenaline through my vanes Pupils dilating Breath quickening The monster is clowning it's way out I can not keep it locked away anymore It feels so good to let the chains containing it break away It's so easy, the monster that lives within me is so strong Black wings break through skin Fingers elongate, sharp black nails form My head wiping back unleashing a piercing scream Red takes over the blue of my eyes, the slits that are now my pupils Snap into focus on something The growl turns into a howl as it rips it's way out of my throat I'm not afraid of you anymore Who do you think will win... This time?
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Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 2:41 AM UTC
Not Afraid Anymore
oh, sweet discovery-- an affirmation, iterate anew-- frissoning along the spinal ungulate of waxing waning curve of time i spin within that spiral, scapular for sternum bloom in thinning breath to thick, spread elongate digitally ground and see the phasing moons as one, what, separated is in union once again as what, in being one, unites united difference all again, again --again repeated-- in my cells that newness thread laddered spiecieswide, and more alighted language coding holograms in boon of sun-- golden futures past-- univocally found by none, by all and only some, and even only one
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Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 12:41 AM UTC
recursion