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"glorious" poems
the lady has me temporarily off the bottle and now the pecker stands up better. however, things change overnight-- instead of listening to Shostakovich and Mozart through a smeared haze of smoke the nights change, new complexities: we drive to Baskin-Robbins, 31 flavors: Rocky Road, Bubble Gum, Apricot Ice, Strawberry Cheesecake, Chocolate Mint... we park outside and look at icecream people a very healthy and satisfied people, nary a potential suicide in sight (they probably even vote) and I tell her "what if the boys saw me go in there? suppose they find out I'm going in for a walnut peach sundae?" "come on, chicken," she laughs and we go in and stand with the icecream people. none of them are cursing or threatening the clerks. there seem to be no hangovers or grievances. I am alarmed at the placid and calm wave that flows about. I feel like a ***** in a beauty contest. we finally get our sundaes and sit in the car and eat them. I must admit they are quite good. a curious new world. (all my friends tell me I am looking better. "you're looking good, man, we thought you were going to die there for a while...") --those 4,500 dark nights, the jails, the hospitals... and later that night there is use for the pecker, use for love, and it is glorious, long and true, and afterwards we speak of easy things; our heads by the open window with the moonlight looking through, we sleep in each other's arms. the icecream people make me feel good, inside and out.
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195.8k
The Icecream People
~*for M. both a living one, and imagined, too*~ 10/5/25 just woke up and began to work; the muses are cofuse-ed they think when head hits pillow. it is there then the~moment to refill my head with verses glorious, alas, alack, into the sub-subconscious furnace they go to melt, meld or even die iron of ironies; 90% of these words, were adrift in my head when I to bed, "for to be repaired" last night, and only came to be recalled @ 2:34 am when them muses and you guru, woke me to 'get outta bed', and you    who bids me sleep, this clashing arousal, starts engine's cylinders to begin live~composing, stoking and stroking, to awake, create, reassemble and uncover the poetic notions trans~versing my head one-day, someday they will depart, for cleaner, greener Champs-Élysées, where reborn poets speak all languages with equal fluency, eagerly awaiting my spouting in Hindi (already ✅), in Hebrew and any/all dialecticals this god earth ever mothered And there you have it, my FPOTD, dear m., SUNday 10/5  & writ in the city where I am alive in the Den of Writing, where the muses like to hang out with their old companion, until such time they will come to inhabit a younger, well rested, equally restless, a not-my-mine mind <nml>
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Oct 5, 2025
Oct 5, 2025 at 3:08 AM UTC
FPOTD: good mid-of night, my beautiful muses, living and imagined
#*O morning sky of endless blue Tinged with purply-pinky hue You tell me of His mercies new Whose heart pursues my own O geese in wingèd winter's flight Your honking cries arouse delight And lift my gaze to seek thy sight As wooing from His hand O softest breeze which skims my face And stirs with such mysterious grace My soul to reach for Love’s embrace You brush me with His kiss O snowflakes falling to the ground You pierce my heart without a sound To crave a purity only found Beneath a bloodied cross O setting sun in half-light glowing Waning day’s last glorious blush showing You paint with fire my spirit’s own knowing— This life is fading fast O stars of midnight’s blackest sky Paraded forth, you pull my eye Toward One Who speaks this ceaseless cry: “I’m coming back for you.” O creeping fog to dawn’s light clinging You whisper, Love’s veiled message bringing, With haunting echoes faintly singing, “Lose all of you in Him.”*#
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Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 10:09 AM UTC
Ode to a Winter's Day
#*Can it love you like God loves you, with a love that is better than life? Can it connect you to eternal beauty? Can it save you? Can it redeem you?  Can it lift you out of the miry pit? Can it make you clean enough to finally feel acceptable? Can it delight your soul to the core? Can it take your breath away with its faithfulness to you? Can it paint both sunrise and sunset across the sky to beckon your attention? Can it cause the breeze to blow and gently caress your cheeks? Can it send hummingbirds and wildflowers across your path to romance your heart? Can it parade before you the starry host and call them each by name? Can it probe you to the depths and fill you with itself? Can it rush to your aid riding on the wings of the wind? Can it satisfy your hunger and thirst with bountiful things? Can it give to you feet like a deer that you might dance upon the heights? Can it arrange every detail of your life to draw you and drive you to itself? Can it pursue you with all the resources of the universe? Can it know you through and through and still desire you? Can it raise you up and seat you in the heavenly realms and bless you with every spiritual blessing? Can it supply your every need out of its glorious riches? Can its grace be sufficient for you and its mercy help you in your greatest temptation? Can it pour overflowing comfort into you through all of your troubles? Can it reach down to draw you out of deep waters? Can it set you on an unshakable foundation? Can it bound across the mountains to come to your rescue? Can it make you lie down in green pastures and lead you beside still waters? Can it walk with you through the darkest wilderness and never leave you or forsake you? Can it carry you when you are weak or have fallen? Can it let you rest between its shoulders when you are weary or burdened? Can it escort you to heaven’s banqueting table and spread its banner of love over you? Can it hide you in the shelter of its wing? Can it be your daily portion and immerse you in the boundlessness of itself? Can it clothe you in robes of righteousness and garments of salvation?  Can it give to you praise in exchange for mourning? Can it bestow on you a crown of beauty for ashes? Can it turn your wailing into dancing? Can it flood you with peace like a river? Can it fill your heart with joy in the worst of afflictions? Can it know the way to lead you home? Can it refine you in its fire and bring you forth as gold?  Can it capture you fully even as it sets you fully free? Can it ever truly be your Everything?*#
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Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 12:47 PM UTC
What Can Your Idol Do?
#*Can it love you like God loves you, with a love that is better than life? Can it connect you to eternal beauty? Can it save you? Can it redeem you?  Can it lift you out of the miry pit? Can it make you clean enough to finally feel acceptable? Can it delight your soul to the core? Can it take your breath away with its faithfulness to you? Can it paint both sunrise and sunset across the sky to beckon your attention? Can it cause the breeze to blow and gently caress your cheeks? Can it send hummingbirds and wildflowers across your path to romance your heart? Can it parade before you the starry host and call them each by name? Can it probe you to the depths and fill you with itself? Can it rush to your aid riding on the wings of the wind? Can it satisfy your hunger and thirst with bountiful things? Can it give to you feet like a deer that you might dance upon the heights? Can it arrange every detail of your life to draw you and drive you to itself? Can it pursue you with all the resources of the universe? Can it know you through and through and still desire you? Can it raise you up and seat you in the heavenly realms and bless you with every spiritual blessing? Can it supply your every need out of its glorious riches? Can its grace be sufficient for you and its mercy help you in your greatest temptation? Can it pour overflowing comfort into you through all of your troubles? Can it reach down to draw you out of deep waters? Can it set you on an unshakable foundation? Can it bound across the mountains to come to your rescue? Can it make you lie down in green pastures and lead you beside still waters? Can it walk with you through the darkest wilderness and never leave you or forsake you? Can it carry you when you are weak or have fallen? Can it let you rest between its shoulders when you are weary or burdened? Can it escort you to heaven’s banqueting table and spread its banner of love over you? Can it hide you in the shelter of its wing? Can it be your daily portion and immerse you in the boundlessness of itself? Can it clothe you in robes of righteousness and garments of salvation?  Can it give to you praise in exchange for mourning? Can it bestow on you a crown of beauty for ashes? Can it turn your wailing into dancing? Can it flood you with peace like a river? Can it fill your heart with joy in the worst of afflictions? Can it know the way to lead you home? Can it refine you in its fire and bring you forth as gold?  Can it capture you fully even as it sets you fully free? Can it ever truly be your Everything?*#
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#*It's at the point of desperation that the soul finds its deepest desire, and in that desire lies everything of which true life is made. Perhaps the first and central question concerning surrender ought not to be, “What am I willing to give to God?” but “What am I willing to receive from Him?” For it's only in the realization that I have nothing to give Him and He has everything to give me that true humility and surrender come. If I would simply receive all He offers me and let Him fill me up I would have no room in my hands to hold onto anything else.   But how often it is that we won't receive it until everything else is lost. It's the secret and inexpressible dreams of the soul which are the hardest things of all to let go and the last to go. When they are finally gone we have nothing left to run to but Him, and when we do we find that He is the beginning, the end and the center of every secret dream. Ah, blessed Peniel—that mysterious and holy ground where heartache collides head-on with romance, that deep and shadowed land where we struggle with God and with men and we overcome, that painful yet glorious place which we may leave limping with a wrenched hip but we do not care, for we have seen God’s face— like Jacob, may we not pass you by without being forever changed.*#
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Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 2:06 PM UTC
Wrestling at Peniel
Both light and shadow are the dance of Love. Love has no cause; it is the astrolabe of God’s secrets. Lover and Loving are inseparable and timeless. Although I may try to describe Love when I experience it I am speechless. Although I may try to write about Love I am rendered helpless; my pen breaks and the paper slips away at the ineffable place where Lover, Loving and Loved are one. Every moment is made glorious by the light of Love.
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The Meaning of Love
on tall trees (en arboles altos) they begin as small white flowers (empiezan como flores pequeñas y blancas) with five petals (con cinco petalos) and a sweet smell (y un olor dulce) ready in summer (estan listos en el verano) smooth skin (piel suave) colorful skin (piel lleno de color) red, orange, yellow, green (rojo, anaranjado, amarillo, verde) single pit in the middle (una semilla en el medio) sweet flavor (sabor dulce) soft or firm (blando o firme) the knife breaks the thin surface (el cuchillo rompe la superficie delgada) and reveals a golden sun (y revela un sol dorado) a sun (un sol) bright (brillante) shining (radiante) and glorious (y glorioso) i like mangos (me gusta mangos) mango juice (jugo de mango) mango smoothies (batidos de mangos) mango ice cream (helado de mango) i have a candle (tengo un cirio) that smells like (que huele como) mangos (mangos) it’s one of my favorite smells (es uno de mis olores favoritos) in the entire world (en todo el mundo) when i think of (cuando yo pienso en) mangos (mangos) i think of (yo pienso en) summer (el verano) my happy place (mi lugar feliz) my paradise (mi paraiso)
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Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 10:55 PM UTC
ode to the mango (oda al mango)
#***It poured a heavenly rain today The roads washed anew Little streams danced and slid down the alleys to the music rains play The Gulmohar petals in orange red hues Lay strewn on the pavement grey Perched atop the green leaves Glorious they looked in the warm sun rays A walk in the evening mellowed rains The tiny raindrops fell gently upon my face And raincoat peach Luminous  under the street lamps Silvery Rain-beams dance***#
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Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 6:10 AM UTC
Another Rain Poem
I live a life of unfulfilled dreams. trips never travelled and sights never seen. words never written and photos never taken. a world full of wonder and I sit here unshaken. one would think of glorious adventures ahead, but I'm just trying to find a way out of bed.
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Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 4:18 AM UTC
(adventure)
Day-colored wine, night-colored wine, wine with purple feet or wine with topaz blood, wine, starry child of earth, wine, smooth as a golden sword, soft as lascivious velvet, wine, spiral-seashelled and full of wonder, amorous, marine; never has one goblet contained you, one song, one man, you are choral, gregarious, at the least, you must be shared. At times you feed on mortal memories; your wave carries us from tomb to tomb, stonecutter of icy sepulchers, and we weep transitory tears; your glorious spring dress is different, blood rises through the shoots, wind incites the day, nothing is left of your immutable soul. Wine stirs the spring, happiness bursts through the earth like a plant, walls crumble, and rocky cliffs, chasms close, as song is born. A jug of wine, and thou beside me in the wilderness, sang the ancient poet. Let the wine pitcher add to the kiss of love its own. My darling, suddenly the line of your hip becomes the brimming curve of the wine goblet, your breast is the grape cluster, your ******* are the grapes, the gleam of spirits lights your hair, and your navel is a chaste seal stamped on the vessel of your belly, your love an inexhaustible cascade of wine, light that illuminates my senses, the earthly splendor of life. But you are more than love, the fiery kiss, the heat of fire, more than the wine of life; you are the community of man, translucency, chorus of discipline, abundance of flowers. I like on the table, when we're speaking, the light of a bottle of intelligent wine. Drink it, and remember in every drop of gold, in every topaz glass, in every purple ladle, that autumn labored to fill the vessel with wine; and in the ritual of his office, let the simple man remember to think of the soil and of his duty, to propagate the canticle of the wine.
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Ode To Wine
Day-colored wine, night-colored wine, wine with purple feet or wine with topaz blood, wine, starry child of earth, wine, smooth as a golden sword, soft as lascivious velvet, wine, spiral-seashelled and full of wonder, amorous, marine; never has one goblet contained you, one song, one man, you are choral, gregarious, at the least, you must be shared. At times you feed on mortal memories; your wave carries us from tomb to tomb, stonecutter of icy sepulchers, and we weep transitory tears; your glorious spring dress is different, blood rises through the shoots, wind incites the day, nothing is left of your immutable soul. Wine stirs the spring, happiness bursts through the earth like a plant, walls crumble, and rocky cliffs, chasms close, as song is born. A jug of wine, and thou beside me in the wilderness, sang the ancient poet. Let the wine pitcher add to the kiss of love its own. My darling, suddenly the line of your hip becomes the brimming curve of the wine goblet, your breast is the grape cluster, your ******* are the grapes, the gleam of spirits lights your hair, and your navel is a chaste seal stamped on the vessel of your belly, your love an inexhaustible cascade of wine, light that illuminates my senses, the earthly splendor of life. But you are more than love, the fiery kiss, the heat of fire, more than the wine of life; you are the community of man, translucency, chorus of discipline, abundance of flowers. I like on the table, when we're speaking, the light of a bottle of intelligent wine. Drink it, and remember in every drop of gold, in every topaz glass, in every purple ladle, that autumn labored to fill the vessel with wine; and in the ritual of his office, let the simple man remember to think of the soil and of his duty, to propagate the canticle of the wine.
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#*The LORD is my Shepherd, I shall not want I dwell in fields of green Led by His hand I may drink my fill From streams where few have been Though I may walk through death's shadowed vale His presence calms every fear Through the dark dangers He sets a feast Whenever my foe comes near His goodness and mercy shall follow me Throughout my days here on earth Then take me home where forever my eyes Shall behold all His glorious worth!*#
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Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 10:55 PM UTC
Psalm 23 (adapted)
As the glorious LION Stands strong in stature Radiating with a presence Of Absolute rule The air washed with A bristly respect A natural pride Beams with  beauty He guards the gateway to truth and only the brave may enter He is the king that needs no crown as he holds a royal presence as he sits in his golden coat and main Lies spark combust just bounce off dissolve in all his shine. As broken men become renewed Their fractured parts Collect in the melting *** Of the Lion's  stare As they are engulfed and swallowed In the reservoirs of his strength As the many wounded souls Find themselves restored In his majestic presence As he rattles the very fabric Of this world There is no procrastinating belly Exposed by a lackluster display No one insults his strength By creating a make believe world Or covers him with scaffolding so That they may alter him For he is the finished article And he is never held up or supported With anyone's emotional ropes or strings For he no ones puppet He is never silenced By the Strangle hold of this world Tightened with a multitude of gestures For I hear his ROAR!!!!!!!! His explosive self expression As his throat bursts and beams like the sun Breaking all collars, and his tongue is freed As a thousand trap doors Open up in him   And boulders are lifted and rocks are shattered within the sound of his voice. His Soft pads of silent stealth Gather for all his wealth As the power of his pounce Is governed by both his strength Of spirit and the honesty With which he meets the earth For he owns all of his own pain And paces and growls to warn Away any who seek to steal his fresh **** And diminish him with pretty lies For he owns all his space As it feeds his strength As somewhere in the fury of feasting Lionesses and Lions   We find our freedom For his power explodes like a volcano When his soul meets the earth   As he shakes off all avoidance To seek only truth As streaks of white light And pure Gold glisten in the SUN As the world's projections Reflect and bounce off him There is so much to learn From a beautiful LION
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Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
LION
As the glorious LION Stands strong in stature Radiating with a presence Of Absolute rule The air washed with A bristly respect A natural pride Beams with  beauty He guards the gateway to truth and only the brave may enter He is the king that needs no crown as he holds a royal presence as he sits in his golden coat and main Lies spark combust just bounce off dissolve in all his shine. As broken men become renewed Their fractured parts Collect in the melting *** Of the Lion's  stare As they are engulfed and swallowed In the reservoirs of his strength As the many wounded souls Find themselves restored In his majestic presence As he rattles the very fabric Of this world There is no procrastinating belly Exposed by a lackluster display No one insults his strength By creating a make believe world Or covers him with scaffolding so That they may alter him For he is the finished article And he is never held up or supported With anyone's emotional ropes or strings For he no ones puppet He is never silenced By the Strangle hold of this world Tightened with a multitude of gestures For I hear his ROAR!!!!!!!! His explosive self expression As his throat bursts and beams like the sun Breaking all collars, and his tongue is freed As a thousand trap doors Open up in him   And boulders are lifted and rocks are shattered within the sound of his voice. His Soft pads of silent stealth Gather for all his wealth As the power of his pounce Is governed by both his strength Of spirit and the honesty With which he meets the earth For he owns all of his own pain And paces and growls to warn Away any who seek to steal his fresh **** And diminish him with pretty lies For he owns all his space As it feeds his strength As somewhere in the fury of feasting Lionesses and Lions   We find our freedom For his power explodes like a volcano When his soul meets the earth   As he shakes off all avoidance To seek only truth As streaks of white light And pure Gold glisten in the SUN As the world's projections Reflect and bounce off him There is so much to learn From a beautiful LION
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[I accidentally deleted this, so now I'm reposting it] This is not an attack, it is expression. *This apparently isn't a very popular subject, but then again, when has popularity changed anyone's mind..* -- **** the 'Selective Service System'; the SSS. It's neo-conscription. FDR made us a deal we couldn't refuse which included a stipulation that about half of us still cannot refuse: Selective Service also known as Peacetime Draft But only for males. Only the males. Not the females, though. Oh, no, not the females; We need the Females to bake the next batch of mindless soldiers/housewives/neoslaves. We need the women to uphold the status-quo. We need our women to remain passive, docile, and beautiful ******* doormats for our glorious and infallible western society. We need our women to be complaint, subservient, sex-starved, archaic-gender-role embodiments. I see it as overtly 'cherry-picking' as well as misogyny both ways; sexist, selfish, and prejudiced on both sides: 'Feminists' (read: Feminazis) claim to plea for true gender equality, but here is my plea: If such is true, where then are their demands for mandatory selective service? Why do they feel above reproach when it comes to the unsavory sides of society? Why do they turn a blind eye to the ******* Draft if they ***** up such a storm about equality? Why is it not a federal offense punishable by a $250,000 fine as well as up to 5 years in prison for a female to not sign their life away to the military from when they turn 18 until at least 25? How is that 'gender equality'? Huh? They, too, are cherry-picking. -
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 5:22 PM UTC
Selective Service (Selcetive Reverse Sexism)
[I accidentally deleted this, so now I'm reposting it] This is not an attack, it is expression. *This apparently isn't a very popular subject, but then again, when has popularity changed anyone's mind..* -- **** the 'Selective Service System'; the SSS. It's neo-conscription. FDR made us a deal we couldn't refuse which included a stipulation that about half of us still cannot refuse: Selective Service also known as Peacetime Draft But only for males. Only the males. Not the females, though. Oh, no, not the females; We need the Females to bake the next batch of mindless soldiers/housewives/neoslaves. We need the women to uphold the status-quo. We need our women to remain passive, docile, and beautiful ******* doormats for our glorious and infallible western society. We need our women to be complaint, subservient, sex-starved, archaic-gender-role embodiments. I see it as overtly 'cherry-picking' as well as misogyny both ways; sexist, selfish, and prejudiced on both sides: 'Feminists' (read: Feminazis) claim to plea for true gender equality, but here is my plea: If such is true, where then are their demands for mandatory selective service? Why do they feel above reproach when it comes to the unsavory sides of society? Why do they turn a blind eye to the ******* Draft if they ***** up such a storm about equality? Why is it not a federal offense punishable by a $250,000 fine as well as up to 5 years in prison for a female to not sign their life away to the military from when they turn 18 until at least 25? How is that 'gender equality'? Huh? They, too, are cherry-picking. -
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There is one thing that ought to be taught in all the colleges, Which is that people ought to be taught not to go around always making apologies. I don't mean the kind of apologies people make when they run over you or borrow five dollars or step on your feet, Because I think that is sort of sweet; No, I object to one kind of apology alone, Which is when people spend their time and yours apologizing for everything they own. You go to their house for a meal, And they apologize because the anchovies aren't caviar or the partridge is veal; They apologize privately for the crudeness of the other guests, And they apologize publicly for their wife's housekeeping or their husband's jests; If they give you a book by Dickens they apologize because it isn't by Scott, And if they take you to the theater, they apologize for the acting and the dialogue and the plot; They contain more milk of human kindness than the most capacious diary can, But if you are from out of town they apologize for everything local and if you are a foreigner they apologize for everything American. I dread these apologizers even as I am depicting them, I shudder as I think of the hours that must be spend in contradicting them, Because you are very rude if you let them emerge from an argument victorious, And when they say something of theirs is awful, it is your duty to convince them politely that it is magnificent and glorious, And what particularly bores me with them, Is that half the time you have to politely contradict them when you rudely agree with them, So I think there is one rule every host and hostess ought to keep with the comb and nail file and bicarbonate and aromatic spirits on a handy shelf, Which is don't spoil the denouement by telling the guests everything is terrible, but let them have the thrill of finding it out for themselves.
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Just Keep Quiet and Nobody Will Notice
There is one thing that ought to be taught in all the colleges, Which is that people ought to be taught not to go around always making apologies. I don't mean the kind of apologies people make when they run over you or borrow five dollars or step on your feet, Because I think that is sort of sweet; No, I object to one kind of apology alone, Which is when people spend their time and yours apologizing for everything they own. You go to their house for a meal, And they apologize because the anchovies aren't caviar or the partridge is veal; They apologize privately for the crudeness of the other guests, And they apologize publicly for their wife's housekeeping or their husband's jests; If they give you a book by Dickens they apologize because it isn't by Scott, And if they take you to the theater, they apologize for the acting and the dialogue and the plot; They contain more milk of human kindness than the most capacious diary can, But if you are from out of town they apologize for everything local and if you are a foreigner they apologize for everything American. I dread these apologizers even as I am depicting them, I shudder as I think of the hours that must be spend in contradicting them, Because you are very rude if you let them emerge from an argument victorious, And when they say something of theirs is awful, it is your duty to convince them politely that it is magnificent and glorious, And what particularly bores me with them, Is that half the time you have to politely contradict them when you rudely agree with them, So I think there is one rule every host and hostess ought to keep with the comb and nail file and bicarbonate and aromatic spirits on a handy shelf, Which is don't spoil the denouement by telling the guests everything is terrible, but let them have the thrill of finding it out for themselves.
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*As our dew points match, lead me out into the open moonlight Then take my hand and come with me to share this glorious night Sin smiling Angels look down on us in the night's cocoon Safely sheltered beneath his broad shoulders our bodies completely attune Her pale skin denied The moonbeams as I eclipses them above her Shivering to the cadence of the night with the moonlight as a ****** The cool night air hasn't chilled her warm summer lips The stars reflected in our eyes, each shimmering thoughts a kiss Ethereal night mist rises from our slowly moving bodies His warmth tastes of golden light, dancing to simple melodies Shimmering in dusk's glow the rapture subsides in a glistening shudder Splendorous waves of euphoric flood, as we complete each other as lovers*
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Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 6:55 AM UTC
Under an Angel's Sinful Smile (Collabration with Palmer)
A tulip of deep lilac my sentiment to you my key to your heart thanking for all you do. Its fragrance reminds me of your sweet perfume like your beauty these tulips brighten up any room. Your sensual beauty glorious as petals caress your skin delicately tracing your body my desires your sin Lilac tulips our love story sweet romance they tell you brought me to heaven resurrected me from hell Sweet tulips for my beauty a symbol in the journey we take a petal for each milestone a role in each chapter we make
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Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 5:35 AM UTC
My sweet tulip
Oh how calmly she sleeps, Carefree she always seems, Wish she gets sweet dreams. So glorious is her face always, I wish her all the happiness, All in the hue of brightness, None equals her cuteness. Oh hope never she weeps, Clarity she wears in deeps, With time get the -ve wiped, Such the cutest nature heaps, I'll be her guardian forever, At heart Atul is just a loner, Not just now - but forever. Only by respecting my love for her, A clear old identity is rediscovered, I'm known as Atul Kaushal for a cause, Singing hymns to my magical love, Ignoring all those distractions, And I am happy being with her, Nirvana comes just for us.
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May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
Gorgeous Sleeping Princess
Today I feel light and free As my hair is caressed by the breeze Bright, beautiful, magical Today has promised and will fulfil Today, I rise in glory Like a Phoenix reborn from ashes Beautifully clothed in red satin sashes Glorious like Pegasus on Mount Olympus Today I rise, I soar in splendour As the day keeps unveiling all her grandeur Let the chains of yesterday break away! Today is here, I will not cling to yesterday!
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Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 2:36 PM UTC
TODAY
Ambar ki aftaabi mein muskurata hai tu Samundar ki gehrayeon se gunjtah hai tu al-Ala As-Salām, al-ʻAziz As-Salām Darkht ke  har patton mein lehrata hai tu Baarish ki har boond se barasta hai tu al-Ala As-Salām, al-ʻAziz As-Salām Har takhayyul mein nazar aaye tera hi kalam Innayat rahe hum pe sada tera bas karam al-Ala As-Salām, al-ʻAziz As-Salām Har tassavur mein hai  teri hi tasveer Muqqamal karde ab meri bhi taqdeer al-Ala As-Salām, al-ʻAziz As-Salām Har nabz ke tarranum mein gun gunata hai tu Har labz ko mere haathon se likhata hai tu al-Ala As-Salām, al-ʻAziz As-Salām Kabool kare meri ibadat mera ye junoon samet le kadmo mein, mil jaye sukoon al-Ala As-Salām, al-ʻAziz As-Salām Translation Your smile is in the radiance of the skies Your sounds echo  from the depths of the ocean the most High, source of peace, the most glorious , source of peace You sway in every leaf of a tree you are in every drop of the rains the most High, source of peace, the most glorious , source of peace behind every thought is your pen continue to grace us always with kindness the most High, source of peace, the most glorious , source of peace In every portrait, I see your image help me complete my destiny the most High, source of peace, the most glorious , source of peace you are the hum in the melody of every pulse My hands are mere instruments of your every word the most High, source of peace, the most glorious , source of peace Accept my worship, and my fervour absorb me into your feet, and grant me peace the most High, source of peace, the most glorious , source of peace
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Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 12:08 AM UTC
al-Ala As-Salām (A prayer- Hindi -Urdu)
Ambar ki aftaabi mein muskurata hai tu Samundar ki gehrayeon se gunjtah hai tu al-Ala As-Salām, al-ʻAziz As-Salām Darkht ke  har patton mein lehrata hai tu Baarish ki har boond se barasta hai tu al-Ala As-Salām, al-ʻAziz As-Salām Har takhayyul mein nazar aaye tera hi kalam Innayat rahe hum pe sada tera bas karam al-Ala As-Salām, al-ʻAziz As-Salām Har tassavur mein hai  teri hi tasveer Muqqamal karde ab meri bhi taqdeer al-Ala As-Salām, al-ʻAziz As-Salām Har nabz ke tarranum mein gun gunata hai tu Har labz ko mere haathon se likhata hai tu al-Ala As-Salām, al-ʻAziz As-Salām Kabool kare meri ibadat mera ye junoon samet le kadmo mein, mil jaye sukoon al-Ala As-Salām, al-ʻAziz As-Salām Translation Your smile is in the radiance of the skies Your sounds echo  from the depths of the ocean the most High, source of peace, the most glorious , source of peace You sway in every leaf of a tree you are in every drop of the rains the most High, source of peace, the most glorious , source of peace behind every thought is your pen continue to grace us always with kindness the most High, source of peace, the most glorious , source of peace In every portrait, I see your image help me complete my destiny the most High, source of peace, the most glorious , source of peace you are the hum in the melody of every pulse My hands are mere instruments of your every word the most High, source of peace, the most glorious , source of peace Accept my worship, and my fervour absorb me into your feet, and grant me peace the most High, source of peace, the most glorious , source of peace
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#*It's at the point of desperation that the soul finds its deepest desire, and in that desire lies everything of which true life is made. Perhaps the first and central question concerning surrender ought not to be, “What am I willing to give to God?” but “What am I willing to receive from Him?” For it's only in the realization that I have nothing to give Him and He has everything to give me that true humility and surrender come. If I would simply receive all He offers me and let Him fill me up I would have no room in my hands to hold onto anything else.   But how often it is that we won't receive it until everything else is lost. It's the secret and inexpressible dreams of the soul which are the hardest things of all to let go and the last to go. When they are finally gone we have nothing left to run to but Him, and when we do we find that He is the beginning, the end and the center of every secret dream. Ah, blessed Peniel—that mysterious and holy ground where heartache collides head-on with romance, that deep and shadowed land where we struggle with God and with men and we overcome, that painful yet glorious place which we may leave limping with a wrenched hip but we do not care, for we have seen God’s face— like Jacob, may we not pass you by without being forever changed.*#
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Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 12:48 AM UTC
Wrestling at Peniel
Well when you're Green, I will be your Brown. Like the earth that loves the flowers, I'll will be your solid ground. And I'll be your Azure, when you are Verdigris. We'll be thee most beautiful ocean that eyes have ever seen. And when you're Black, I'll be your White. Mixing all of the colors … I'll make everything alright. Now when you're Blue, I'll be your Red. If something should make you wanna cry, I will feel your pain instead. And I'll be your Orange, whenever you are Pink. We'll be thee most amazing sunset, that the sky could ever ink. And when you're Black, I'll be your White. I'll mix all of your colors … and make everything alright. Should you be Violet, I will be your Beige. Like a sleepy moonlit desert, pastelled in dunes and Sage. And when you're Gray, I will be your Rainbow. We'll be thee most soothing rainstorm the world has ever known. And when you're Black, I'll be your White. I'll mix all of your colors … yes, I'll make everything alright. With love on my palette, painting a glorious sunrise … I'll color all your mornings with a smile and brighten up your skies. If you should find yourself in sorrow from someones hate or lies … I'll take the stars down from the heavens … and paint them in your eyes. So whenever you are Black, I will always be your White. I'll mix all your colors with a promise … everything will be alright. Yes, I'll mix all of your colors with a promise … Everything's gonna be alright.
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Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 7:51 AM UTC
Colors
I bow to Lotus Feet, which gives me eternal peace I am incomplete without your compassion you healed my heart when it was thrown and shattered you picked me up when I struggled to get through you gave me hope when it seemed so out of reach I am nothing without you Where ever I go, found not alone your glorious touch was always with me Nectar drop of Gita, feels presents of yours O! my Lord Krishna show me the light on my path your Flute stirs the Universal Consciousness And Gita enchants the Transcendental Consciousness O! Lord of the whole Universe, Omnipotent Master of all Grant me a glimpse of Thyself,Be pleased to come and live inside me                                          -----------------------------------: :--------------------------------- By : Karunakar Saroj (In the love of Lord Krishna) “hare krishna hare krishna krishna krishna hare hare hare rama hare rama rama rama hare hare”
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Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 3:43 PM UTC
**O! MY LORD KRISHNA**
Can you feel it Shh, allow the galaxy to pamper your body, blanket the essence of your mind, bit-by-bit Travel on a higher awareness to understand the galaxy’s gentle gift Close your eyes and allow your mind to softly drift Soft Moonlight Dust Illuminating the night skies, given warmth of its inner trust Centered in the sky, a star abates for its enlighten ****** Kindred minds to enrapture, as souls physically adjust So gentle, as a touch to the skin An inner space to conquer, there an exploring craving begins Awareness of self stirring into the constellation Bodies attuned beyond the stretch of imagination Savoring on the flavor of the alignment sweeten taste Desires igniting an inferno, the heat of its flames refusing to wait Overheated friction surrendering without debates Runaway yearning weakening in the presence of fate The ecstasy of the moonlight’s dust felt, abiding to the crack of dawn Emotions of the elixir slowly withdrawn A Cheshire moonrise Always a sacred communion given in surprise Masked feelings hidden behind the stars in our eyes Sprinkles of pixie dust as the moon becomes full Paired upon, as lace meets wool Interwoven and tenderly spun on a galactic spool Stars In Exile Twinkling for eyes to glimpse beyond the earth’s smile Canopus to Antares, oh how you make me shine Closing my eyes, coveting your point as I’m making you mine Settled and glittering as small diamonds binding in the sky A wondrous elopement to experience in the blink of an eye Soft whispers to the ones that shoot right before they fall Such a beautiful and breathlessly cadence to wish under them all The Gift Of The Sun’s Stroke Umm, shooting stars kept me awoke Relentless bodies bathing under the moon Caresses, touches, entwined souls echoing the note of its weakening tunes Sweeter and sweeter, deeper and deeper Bodies fueled, hot as a heater, bodies climbing steeper and steeper Heat consumes the interior of the temple Sweat of life, as movements come together and then disassemble Elated, sedated, dipping in a cool blue lagoon Kisses under the sun on a beautiful afternoon Temperatures rising not a moment too soon June slamming into summer’s heat A merriment of a sun stroke basking in the glorious feast The galaxy and its spicy passion A gift to the world to enjoy in any unbridled fashion
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Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 1:17 PM UTC
A Kiss Among The Milky Way
Can you feel it Shh, allow the galaxy to pamper your body, blanket the essence of your mind, bit-by-bit Travel on a higher awareness to understand the galaxy’s gentle gift Close your eyes and allow your mind to softly drift Soft Moonlight Dust Illuminating the night skies, given warmth of its inner trust Centered in the sky, a star abates for its enlighten ****** Kindred minds to enrapture, as souls physically adjust So gentle, as a touch to the skin An inner space to conquer, there an exploring craving begins Awareness of self stirring into the constellation Bodies attuned beyond the stretch of imagination Savoring on the flavor of the alignment sweeten taste Desires igniting an inferno, the heat of its flames refusing to wait Overheated friction surrendering without debates Runaway yearning weakening in the presence of fate The ecstasy of the moonlight’s dust felt, abiding to the crack of dawn Emotions of the elixir slowly withdrawn A Cheshire moonrise Always a sacred communion given in surprise Masked feelings hidden behind the stars in our eyes Sprinkles of pixie dust as the moon becomes full Paired upon, as lace meets wool Interwoven and tenderly spun on a galactic spool Stars In Exile Twinkling for eyes to glimpse beyond the earth’s smile Canopus to Antares, oh how you make me shine Closing my eyes, coveting your point as I’m making you mine Settled and glittering as small diamonds binding in the sky A wondrous elopement to experience in the blink of an eye Soft whispers to the ones that shoot right before they fall Such a beautiful and breathlessly cadence to wish under them all The Gift Of The Sun’s Stroke Umm, shooting stars kept me awoke Relentless bodies bathing under the moon Caresses, touches, entwined souls echoing the note of its weakening tunes Sweeter and sweeter, deeper and deeper Bodies fueled, hot as a heater, bodies climbing steeper and steeper Heat consumes the interior of the temple Sweat of life, as movements come together and then disassemble Elated, sedated, dipping in a cool blue lagoon Kisses under the sun on a beautiful afternoon Temperatures rising not a moment too soon June slamming into summer’s heat A merriment of a sun stroke basking in the glorious feast The galaxy and its spicy passion A gift to the world to enjoy in any unbridled fashion
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Do You Ever Find … ? That Words Sometimes … KEEP On … " Runnin' " … Through Your Mind … ?!? Sometimes ... My Rhymes And Words Are … ...... STUNNING ….. !!!!! These Days I Find My Word Designs … Refine And Dine Just Like FINE Wine … !!! So Here's A Few To Give You … " Clues " ... of Some of The Ways My Wordplay Moves … Wordplay … ? Just … RIDICULOUS … !!! Volume … ? Straight Up … INFINITE … !!! Inception Is … " Synonymous " … With BIG VIRGE The … EPONYMOUS … !!!!! Conception … NOT …. " Inglorious " …. !!!!! ******* NOPE … ERRONEOUS … !!!!! My Use of Verse Is … " GLORIOUS " … !!!!! In Fact It's … " MERITORIOUS " . !!!!!!! Because It's TIGHT NOT Porous …. Chorus … NO … !!! Because It Flows … And Has NO PLACE In … ... " Talent Shows " … !!!!! TALENT ... ??? Whoooooaaaaa You'd Better KNOW … !!!!! What I Construct May One Day BLOW … !!! A Hole In ALL These Shows For … " Ho's " … !!!!! Prostitution …. NO …. !!! NOT How I Roll … !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Talking of THOSE … NO TIME For Coc’ … !!! Or Yes … ******* … !!! Because My Nose ... Does NOT House Notes … !!!!! Where AIR Should Flow … !!!!! FLOWS … ?!? I Got …Those … !!! QUOTES That Rock Boats … !!! Races Places So Many Faces … Sometimes My Mind ... DEFINES … INVASIVE … WAIT ..................................................................... !!! I'm Just PLAYING And Relaying ... Words of Verse … From The Thoughts of … ….. " Big Virge " ….. !!! My Head … ??? It HURTS ... Just Like My Arm … !!! Because I Write … Like Those Who Fight … And Wear The Garms' … of Those Who Choose To ... YES … " Bear Arms " … ?!? Violent … NAH … !?! Big Virge Is … ….. Calm …............................................................. I'd Rather Charm … But PLEASE BE SMART … !!! Before My Words … Get In Your ... " CLAAT " … !!! Or Your …... " RASSHOLE' " ….. !!! Am I Bajan … ??? NO ... But Here's The Quote … I'm … ENGLISH Born … So Know of Their Scorn … !!!!! But Am Now REBORN … !!! With … CARIBBEAN Views … Just Down The Road … From My NEW Bedroom … !!!!! On BAJAN' Shores …. !!! NOT Cold But WARM … !!! I'm HAPPIER NOW … !!! That I Have FOUND … A Place For Myself … On My Parents' Ground … !!!!! Africa Next … ? Well … More or Less … So MUCH of This WORLD … !!!!! I Haven't Seen … YET … ?!? Girls … ?!?!? That's Where This Poem ENDS. SO MANY Look FINE But I Just Can't find … One Whose Down To … " Fool Around " … !!!!! With The Man … Big Virge ... ... " The Connoisseur of Spoken Words " ... I Guess That's Why … ? I Write These Rhymes … And Put In Verse … Words That … " Traverse " … That I NOW FIND … " Run Through My Mind " …..
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Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 4:32 PM UTC
"Run Through My Mind" ... A Poem written by Big Virge 20/12/2013
Do You Ever Find … ? That Words Sometimes … KEEP On … " Runnin' " … Through Your Mind … ?!? Sometimes ... My Rhymes And Words Are … ...... STUNNING ….. !!!!! These Days I Find My Word Designs … Refine And Dine Just Like FINE Wine … !!! So Here's A Few To Give You … " Clues " ... of Some of The Ways My Wordplay Moves … Wordplay … ? Just … RIDICULOUS … !!! Volume … ? Straight Up … INFINITE … !!! Inception Is … " Synonymous " … With BIG VIRGE The … EPONYMOUS … !!!!! Conception … NOT …. " Inglorious " …. !!!!! ******* NOPE … ERRONEOUS … !!!!! My Use of Verse Is … " GLORIOUS " … !!!!! In Fact It's … " MERITORIOUS " . !!!!!!! Because It's TIGHT NOT Porous …. Chorus … NO … !!! Because It Flows … And Has NO PLACE In … ... " Talent Shows " … !!!!! TALENT ... ??? Whoooooaaaaa You'd Better KNOW … !!!!! What I Construct May One Day BLOW … !!! A Hole In ALL These Shows For … " Ho's " … !!!!! Prostitution …. NO …. !!! NOT How I Roll … !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Talking of THOSE … NO TIME For Coc’ … !!! Or Yes … ******* … !!! Because My Nose ... Does NOT House Notes … !!!!! Where AIR Should Flow … !!!!! FLOWS … ?!? I Got …Those … !!! QUOTES That Rock Boats … !!! Races Places So Many Faces … Sometimes My Mind ... DEFINES … INVASIVE … WAIT ..................................................................... !!! I'm Just PLAYING And Relaying ... Words of Verse … From The Thoughts of … ….. " Big Virge " ….. !!! My Head … ??? It HURTS ... Just Like My Arm … !!! Because I Write … Like Those Who Fight … And Wear The Garms' … of Those Who Choose To ... YES … " Bear Arms " … ?!? Violent … NAH … !?! Big Virge Is … ….. Calm …............................................................. I'd Rather Charm … But PLEASE BE SMART … !!! Before My Words … Get In Your ... " CLAAT " … !!! Or Your …... " RASSHOLE' " ….. !!! Am I Bajan … ??? NO ... But Here's The Quote … I'm … ENGLISH Born … So Know of Their Scorn … !!!!! But Am Now REBORN … !!! With … CARIBBEAN Views … Just Down The Road … From My NEW Bedroom … !!!!! On BAJAN' Shores …. !!! NOT Cold But WARM … !!! I'm HAPPIER NOW … !!! That I Have FOUND … A Place For Myself … On My Parents' Ground … !!!!! Africa Next … ? Well … More or Less … So MUCH of This WORLD … !!!!! I Haven't Seen … YET … ?!? Girls … ?!?!? That's Where This Poem ENDS. SO MANY Look FINE But I Just Can't find … One Whose Down To … " Fool Around " … !!!!! With The Man … Big Virge ... ... " The Connoisseur of Spoken Words " ... I Guess That's Why … ? I Write These Rhymes … And Put In Verse … Words That … " Traverse " … That I NOW FIND … " Run Through My Mind " …..
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I feel like I am neurologically deficient That a lot of my brain cells are missing Like a punch drunk doped up punk boxer A pimply muscle bound ***** on steroids Hanging out at my old high school locker No shocker that I am no medical doctor But I always thought I’d be just a bit better I guess on average I am a little bit smarter But the bar is set so low that it requires Very little to grow and go over it, you know In comparison to the other young men I may be grandstanding and one upping them But when it comes to grand scheme of things When compared to past people Who shared my glorious dreams Like Percy Shelley and John Keats Like Ginsburg and the other Beats I think I am drifting of course just a bit Lest we all forget the **** cut the crap to fit in it Maybe I’m okay few travel this way anyways So who’s to say if I’m doing it the wrong or the right way But I still feel like my brain needs a chemical treatment A diet with more nutrients and sufficient Supplements Because I’m feeling neurologically deficient
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May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
Feeling Deficiant