"himalaya" poems
Went to my ancestor's home on a Spring season that year..
On a Holi day in the land of Chanchadari
A peaceful morning in Hoshiarpur, the doors to Himalaya
Happy Holli day!! The kids shout with cheer
Holi Hai! Holi Hai! Lets play Holi!!!
He woke up early morning that day..
With a bucket of colored water waiting for me
I stepped outside my grandpa's door
In a split second I was soaked in a coloured water…
From head to toes… red, orange, yellow, purple… the colors of Holi…
Ohh It's a Hoi Hai day alright…
Lets play Holi … Lets play Holi..
Hails spring with ecstasy and joy!
The trees smile with their sprout
of tender leaves and blooming flowers,
The land of beauty and greatness,
India, witnessing color of happiness and peace.
Nation come alive to enjoy the spirit
A celebration of color- Holi!
An experience of content, harmony and delight.
Holi colors of red, green, yellow and countless.
A day's canvas - a riot of colors.
Lively crowd running, dancing, playing
Rainbow of colors, Lets play Holi and splish and splash!!
Lets play with the frenzy colors .. play on Holi Hai day….
I am dreaming of playing with colors with you
It is the Holi celebration after all.
I can't play inside my home, the carpets will get tainted,
I cant' play it in the yard, the grass and outer walls will get painted.
I thought I would go to the secret garden of ours,
and play with you Holi hai day …
It's a colourful day just you and me..
In love on Holi Hai day…. Lets play Holi..
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 2:35 AM UTC
on the other-side of a grave wall
there may rightly be a water-vessel
that is chicken-hearted by birth
there may not be around her
a stretching of water-body
do remember
when we all went that day to catch the train
the room of the rail-station was totally vanished
after enquiry it was revealed that
it had gone to observe holidays with its family
in the yolk of the eggs of the snipe
before opening the no-door to take a leap i also knew
that the top-branch of a green and large grasshopper
was mainly made up of white-stones
i did not also have
any mystic words
given by the moon
to recite silently
so without caring for the water
i made a all-complete ocean
with sands and cement
throughout the year
solvency gets down
from the body of the traffic signal
even-then
the monsoon this year
has been under the poverty-line
and the ray of hope is that
it is this circuitous route
leading to the top of the himalaya
that would one day
play the tune of differential calculus
on her guitar
Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 6:58 AM UTC
In the Oldboy
I Saw the Devil
In the New World
A Nameless Gangster
With a Crying Fist
With Shiri
Came the Happy End
For Our Twisted Hero
Himalaya of Asian actors
Choi Min-sik
Happy birthday to you
52 => 25 (the one against 25 fight scene from Oldboy)
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 3:32 AM UTC
"Ahhh I scream, what is wrong with you?"
"Don't run around I didn't raise you like that!"
"Have these pills!"
**** you, why are you not like the normal kids..."*
"Am I really that weird?"
"Drugged beyond recognition"
"Head as heavy as the weight of himalaya"
"Drowned in medication"
"Always nice too meet you, I am James"
"Do they accept the true me?"
"I am fine. How are you doing?"
"Don't show them. Do drugs"
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 4:52 PM UTC
but I am a different
kind of adventurous.
even if I only dance with
others, or hit whistle notes
with Brett, even if Joe's the
only one I'd kiss without
a single regret
I love long car rides, I'll
take your shift, I'll let
you sleep an extra two hours
I love the smell of sunscreen
and graham crackers and how I've been
sitting in these shorts for too
long that there has to be
a sweat stain.
I don't know, have you ever had
cheetos at a rest-stop before Modesto?
We'd make it to Santa Cruz on time.
I may not climb the Himalaya's with
you, or go to Paraguay because I'm
afraid of chronic diarrhea, but I am
so much more than my fears.
Have you ever had cheetos at a rest-stop before Modesto?
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
Hai naman unko ki jo iss deh ko amaratwa dekar...
Iss jagat me shaurya ki ziwit kahani ** gye hai...
Hai naman unko ki jinke saamne bauna haimalya...
Jo dhara par gir pade par aashmani ** gye hai...
hai naman unko....
Likh chuki hai vidhi tumhari veerta k punya leke...
Vijay k udhgosh geeta k kathan tumko naman hai...
Sindoordaano ki gathao desh hit pratipatth yaowank dapan
tumko naman hai...
Bahan k bishwas, bhai k sakha, kul k sahare, pita k vrat k falit
Maa k nayan tumko naman hai...
Ki hai naman unko ki jinko mrityu paakar hui paawan...
Sikhar jinke Charan chukar or maani ** gye hai...
Ki hai naman unko ki jinke saamne bauna himalaya...
Jo dhara par gir pade par aashmani ** gye hai...
hai naman unko....
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 8:21 AM UTC
A land with love, peace & admiration
To you I salute with all my devotion
A land where live people of all kind
Various languages where we find
A land beleaguered by Himalaya
And perennial rivers running via
A land signed by a flag of tri colour
With courage, peace & faith depicting her
A land called as India or Hind
Where I'm privileged to born in
A land to which I call my country
With all my devotion I salute thee...
Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 12:29 PM UTC
Risa's eyes looked out from almond shells
glinting in the morning sun
concealing a golden buttercup glow
wrapped round the ragged peaks of the Himalaya's
like an immaculate dust cover
embroidered with a million clean cut diamonds
revealing the majesty of light
pinwheeling over broken shadows
and shattered solitary star-bursts
peeling round mighty boulders flung by giants
breathing new life into ancient stones
sealing prophecies of dancing immortal angels
stealing the remnants of passing moonlight
as the coming day reaches out and cradles
the last vestige of piercing cold night.
This was the daily healing
the warmth upon her young face
the smile appearing that would melt the ice itself
the young girl from Darjeeling
embraced with gifts of seeing
her nubile and youthful grace
belies the hardship and the routine
of carrying spice to the market
she was not yet even thirteen
the Lapis gem of her mothers eye
the little queen of all she surveys
sashays down the cobbled street way
nestled in the lap of the gods
and the praise of summer days.
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 8:53 AM UTC
Ae zindagi kya hassin naam tera
Hazaaron Mein Hai chehra tera
Aj beparda hai husno jamal tera
Sabhi ko hoti hai chinta teri
Kya ** agar na ** chinta teri
Chalo jite hai tuje aaj mein
Chohd chinta kal ki teri
Sochta *** kya hai zindagi
Fir dehk kar paani Ganga ka
Sabhi jawab milgae
Jese Ganga aati hai or
Samundar mai miljaati hai
Fir se baarish ke roop Mein wo
Himalaya me chali jaati hai
Ae zindagi tubhi waise lagti mujhe
Haasti hai rulati hai or kabhi udas
Kar jati hai tu
Fir es aatma ko us ek se ja milati hai
Ae zindagi maaza tera maut Mein Bhi aata hai
Ae zindagi kya hassin naam tera
Hazaaron Mein Hai chehra tera
Hazaaron Mein Hai chehra tera
By Abutorab dyer
Aug 2, 2020
Aug 2, 2020 at 1:47 AM UTC
Il y a des personne qui pour un court instant, comme un petit papillon de Madagascar,
peuvent vous sourie et satisfaire avec une innocence bienveillante si naturelle qu’on ne
trouve dans aucun endroit ou presque :
hammam de luxe !
Il y a des temples enfouis si inouïe qui illumine ma galaxie et te demande, pour guide.…
Oh, steppes arides Mexicaines, mes séculaires puits désert, mes horizons abandonné prés d’
Himalaya qui cherche routard et vie avec.
Huile brulés et larmes séché, enfance volé, démon si prés ne te demande rien : que guide.
Il y à toujours pour nous, les doigts d’une main dans une caresse sublime, parce que tes
bras, courre devant moi, :
Ne t’arête pas, car ton sourire éclate le jade dans blanc si minérale, parfum dans vert
sapin, j’irrigue ainsi et je cultive.Je donne la vie pour que tout ça, anime esprit, Himalaya, donne confiance dans mon éveille,voyage sans fin et vagabonde, les haut plateaux du thé :
« Marquise du haut : regard tout bas ! »
Suis ce fou errant, pour avant ce sale gamin à qui personne dessine :
Ton danse présent pollen mon sens et dans ma voix, je cour couleur de pluie sur ciel pour toi,
libérer mes ailles, un jour pour soie si fine, que tu vêtis dans robe hammam ,
dans Innocence marré Mexique qui Guides ce vol -Vien dans le mien, illumines !
ALEXANDRE STARK
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 7:04 AM UTC
My love, this is especially for you, I hope you will like it. With love from, Sylvia / Mijn lieve, dit is speciaal voor jou. Ik hoop dat je het leuk zal vinden, liefs van Sylvia.
as highest as the Chomolungma in Himalaya region
as magic as this Mount Everest correction
as huge as the Nightwatch of Rembrandt
as imposant as the Niagara Waterfalls when you shall land
as friendly as the Ricefields on Bali Island
as generous as the Space Needle together with Manhattan
as lovely as the puppet dolls my fiancé gave me in Jakarta
as beautiful as my wild Rose's voice when speaking about Indonesia
as wonderful as Serfaus at wintersport-season
as warm as Granada could be on Summerdays without a reason
as romantic as Venezia on dark nights
as cool as Paris sparkles in Autumnal lights
as truest as Jesus died on the cross at Calvary
my love for you so loyal as Plath's words, no fata morgana
so honest as Picasso's own Guernica
it means only most important and precious to you and to me,
this I tell to you as my only trustee and devotee.
Truest love ever known, most loyal ever shown !
I have told you all these with the help of God, amen.
Sylvia Frances Chan
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 8:50 AM UTC
From shelves and racks, or lying in stacks, Books,
Of all ages and epochs—adolescents and youths,
Aged and venerable, and e’en those in decrepitude,
Much eloquent, but in all silence, share with us
Experiences wide ranging, emotions well pent up,
Passions, love and hate, and joys and sufferings,
Triumphs, failings, histories, biographies and maxims.
A pat or stroke, or appeal in awe, or in supplication,
They’d unleash to you, in varied moods and temper,
Their stories, in letters, words, phrases, sentences;
In prose or verse on folios, or in acts and scenes,
Of Helens, Quixotes, Falstaffs, Holmes and Othellos,
In the highs and lows of their pleasures and pathos,
Of Lears, Tristans and Isoldes, and procrastinators.
Of the plucks and spirits of Arjunas and Achilleses,
Of the failings of the ill-fated Kareninas and Bovaries,
Of the unwavering faith of Jobs, Noahs and Abrahams,
Of the lovelorn Sakunthalas, and Sitas under Simsupa,
Of God’s Garden, and of the wisdom of the Himalaya,
They speak in silence, of the real and the imagined,
As mighty godlike genies waiting for our summons!
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 4:43 AM UTC
a silence
range of mountains
a kind of peace
the soul crave
a meditate in utmost silence
an inner experience
try to blow through words
failed.
Came home
tried.....tried….
a frustration.
help me to understand
the silence belong to Himalaya
then….
started meditating
sitting in
middle of the market
now, experienced
a true silence……….
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 9:21 AM UTC
From shelves and racks, or lying in stacks, Books,
Of all ages and epochs—adolescents and youths,
Aged and venerable, and e’en those in decrepitude,
Much eloquent, but in all silence, share with us
Experiences wide ranging, emotions well pent up,
Passions, love and hate, and joys and sufferings,
Triumphs, failings, histories, biographies and maxims.
A pat or stroke, or appeal in awe, or in supplication,
They’d unleash to you, in varied moods and temper,
Their stories, in letters, words, phrases, sentences;
In prose or verse on folios, or in acts and scenes,
Of Helens, Quixotes, Falstaffs, Holmes and Othellos,
In the highs and lows of their pleasures and pathos,
Of Lears, Tristans and Isoldes, and procrastinators.
Of the plucks and spirits of Arjunas and Achilleses,
Of the failings of the ill-fated Kareninas and Bovaries,
Of the unwavering faith of Jobs, Noahs and Abrahams,
Of the lovelorn Sakunthalas, and Sitas under Simsupa,
Of God’s Garden, and of the wisdom of the Himalaya,
They speak in silence, of the real and the imagined,
As mighty godlike genies waiting for our summons!
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 8:51 AM UTC
I'll have regrets
the day I die
I'll have unanswered questions
that around me fly
I never went up to the moon
I never saw Napoleon's tomb
I never crossed the oceans deep
Nor stood on top of Himalaya's peak
I never thought we'd say goodbye
but time just slipped on by
And now I sit here feeling sad
wondering if life has me had
It doesn't matter anymore
The memories's weight
I can pull no more
I'll just lay down and die
and to this world I'll say goodbye
Then as I walk into the light
I will be full of fear and fright
But it will all be okay
Happens to us all on any given day
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 2:05 PM UTC
on the canvas
i drew her
across, around
within, without
in all colour and shade
of great cities
and their country.
her eyes as London
and the cheeks as Tanzania;
her palms as Athens
and the shoulders all
Himalaya -
every bone or edge in
wonderful chromatic.
the canvas changed and bled,
as did i but
by year’s end, the mosaic,
worldly woman was now
rested there in full.
stood in blank
dark
mossy room
covered in art and age
i called upon her name
but alas
i could no longer remember.
Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 8:02 PM UTC
An evening in Gulmarg
-----------
The dale of flowers in heart of rising himalaya:
Where sun rise's beyond far green cidar trees,
To please the azure lux skies---
And birds of the bush, sings and laughs, nigh,
And eternally, mirth lulls into eyes the mirth,
Oh! be ever, for me--ahh, sweet earth---
Where, Gulah can be seen, in the echoing green,
Wooing with the flowers day and night,
The snow-whistle, and summer shallow, side by side with suman and sumbal keenly looks on,
To welcome into valley-the spring---
And fairest fountains leap up jolly jolly,
And that- Bard sitting under an oak, plays his harp, among the native folk,
"Oh! my dear melancholy"---
Overjoyed, wood winds play the music,
And maple leafs dance in their rhythm,
Heart sinks down for awhile in an ecstasy
It resounds like, as a festival of holy---
And lucy! swings-un fearing
on the green grass,
There is naught a dilemma of upper or lower class,
Still sound of joy, the nature sings round the clock---
O! liberty! come on hurly,heart is unquiet,
A rainbow dwell's beside it,
Yet, bonnie beauty is in it's reflection,
Garden of eden! gracias for your kind affection-
Rights reserved
@Affaq Nabi
May 31, 2020
May 31, 2020 at 2:08 PM UTC
It's ecstasy that their is no end,
Ups and downs, life has a blend,
As soon as you conquer one peak,
You find more higher ones sneak
And giving you another challenge,
For the life is a mountain range,
Amidst of the peaks there are steep,
Gorges where you submerge into deep,
Life is like mighty Himalaya,
To liberate us from from wordly maya...
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 10:06 AM UTC
A Tribute to Nelson Madiba Mandela
A great hero once born is gone,
His legacy shall indeed prolong
All African leaders acclaim him as a hero,
He is a son of the roots, the African sun
Oh hear his heroic voice, our Idol
Oh let's scream his name, Mandela!
Oh hail the great Iroko, Madiba!
For freedom, did he fight?
He the age old lantern, source of light
His words' a symphony to our delight
Oh you awakening spirit of Africa,
Your voice heard in the Himalaya
Your memories forever in our hearts,
Your legacy remains till we part,
Oh the fighter still fights!
Madiba shall you rise again?
Shall the fighter fight again?
Oh so selfless a heart of love,
He's reached the heavens above
On earth we build him a grove
Oh this tribute We give to you,
Though the sun no longer shines on you,
In our hearts you remain engraved
From dawn to dusk, on your grave,
Shall birds sing of glory, it's true
Oh Mandela, Madiba, we miss you father
For freedom's sake, you did not surrender
Your seeds shall forever bloom,
In heaven the brides await their groom,
Your laughter did erase our gloom
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 9:43 AM UTC
For those who dare to fly
through the open sky
over oceans
through rough waves
for exploring caverns in the Himalaya caves
daring to cross Atlantic seas
through the heavy fog
and misty breeze
climbing mountains far and wide
(happy you even tried)
I dedicate this poem to you
for staying strong..
for being true
daring...
to fly the open sky.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 6:18 PM UTC
It is night now, and I am bloom all over.
Creeper crawling on earth, beneath:
the thicket of my blades, there lies
secret a crypt to eternity concealed.
I'm jasmine and I conceal a grave.
What is more deadly, say, concealment,
or the thing concealed? This is mystery.
I'm growing everywhere: by Himalaya
gazing at thunder cracking up the peaks.
By the well, where spake the Nazarene.
Clambering up to the heights of temple
towers, and kissing the eastern clouds.
But here is the whiff of fragrant endings:
concealment, more deathly than death.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 1:37 PM UTC
*her affection
can't be expressed
hmm
she will reach you like...
..............RoadRunner
she irritates like Mickey Mouse
short tempered like a Cat.
she may walk like Donald Duck
with a gun...... but for
only to shoot the misunderstanding
Sometimes
to fear whether she was whole Himalaya's
such kind of silence.....
who knows she may come back
as a sage.
am waiting....*
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 6:59 AM UTC
Looking into your eyes
I see the ocean of peace
Behind the roaring
Waves
I feel the cool breeze
Of Himalaya
In your
tranquilizing forehead
I smell the fragrance
Of bliss
In your sweet grin
Spreading far
Pulling me towards you
I get drawn
From the most
Magnetic
Pull from your
Heart
I get ******
Into you
Live in you forever
Making my Permanent home
©sobbingsoul
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 8:42 PM UTC
Ali once said
i've
lived
the
life of 100 men
i
float like a butterfly
and
i sting like a bee
i wrestled
with
an alligator
and
a polar bear
in
broad daylight
on top of
the
himalaya mountains
still
i rumbled
with
the
mighty lion of
the jungle
lord
i'm so fast and pretty
i can stick and move
as i dance
with
the
ali shuffle
and
knock you out
in round number 3
nothing can stopped me
i can't be moved
because
i am
the
greatest of all times
champ
you will always
be my hero
saints are born
and
not made
ali dead
at the age of 74
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 10:42 AM UTC
Ven, que Cortázar aprueba nuestra entrega.
Ven, que muero de ansias por dormir contigo.
Ven, descansemos estos cuerpos muertos por la rutina.
Ven, que la vida nos invita a relajarnos entre mimos.
Nos inventa jugadas que puedan extasiar nuestras almas.
Nos regala palabras que podemos gritar hasta que los vecinos se enfaden.
Ven que la alcoba nos llama….ella nos reta--a ahogarnos las llamaradas.
Ven, vamos a escalar el Himalaya,
Ven, que el amor será nuestra mejor guía mientras la descubrimos.
Logremos derretir con nuestros fogosos cuerpos, la nieve que la decora.
Ven, que quiero ser tu “Hima” para que tu nieve enfrié mi canícula.
Quiero ser tu himno, tu gloria, tu mujer insaciable.
Quiero que tú seas mi “ālaya”,
mi morada, mi lugar donde exquisitamente calo en tu cúpula.
Que seas mi río Brahmaputra y que me emputes la impudicia.
Que desagües mis valles con tu dulce boca.
Que conquistes la cordillera de mis pretensiones.
Que derritas mis ventisqueros para alimentar mis famélicos deseos.
Ven, que nuestra alcoba nos llama, nos invita.
Vamos a subir la montaña Everest entre besos que excitan.
Dejemos que el amor nos quebrante sin descuido.
Nos embriague entre artimañas mientras escalamos hacia la cima.
Ven, que este amor se concomerá nuestras ganas,
empuñándonos en cada paso mientras escalamos esta montaña
de pasión, de devoción, de inaguantables salacidad.
Ven que nuestro amor nos hará invencibles,
cuando logremos al mismo tiempo colonizar nuestras cumbres
y la decoremos con una emblemática bandera blanca…...
Ven mi cielo a dormir conmigo,
que el amor, el calor y el deseo se están carcomiendo en nuestro lecho.
LeydisProse
7/7/2017h
ttps://www.facebook.com/LeydisProse/
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 5:00 PM UTC