"immemorial" poems
One in the know drops a line,
there was no A B C to spell,
yet it keeps spreading.
An animated lingua
wraps round the eyeline.
All those that get wind of it
arise and keep counting.
Without a beginning or an end,
For it has no 1 or 9,
not a mark nor a sign.
Speechless, breathless me,
turn to mine, the one,
superior turned-on mind.
And it appeared true,
true to that credible nature
that identifies indeed
the 'name' of the composer!
Meanwhile, a bird of time.
A giant spell takes no time,
eases off in a blink of eye.
I start to breathe,
begin to revive, again in my
native countryside:
some clay-bumps on the river.
I can cry, smile, now I
can shed tears.
Rhyme on the river.
What's in a river?
'Lores of time immemorial,
an open heart on the move!'
Is there anyone out there
'tapped into the running cycle of water,
following the rhyme on the river'?
One in the know drops a line,
there was no A B C to spell,
yet it keeps spreading.
An animated lingua
wraps round the eyeline.
All those that get wind of it
arise and keep counting.
Without a beginning or an end,
For it has no 1 or 9,
not a mark nor a sign.
Speechless, breathless me,
turn to mine, the one,
superior turned-on mind.
And it appeared true,
true to that credible nature
that identifies indeed
the 'name' of the composer!
Meanwhile, a bird of time.
A giant spell takes no time,
eases off in a blink of eye.
I start to breathe,
begin to revive, again in my
native countryside:
some clay-bumps on the river.
I can cry, smile, now I
can shed tears.
Rhyme on the river.
What's in a river?
'Lores of time immemorial,
an open heart on the move!'
Is there anyone out there
'tapped into the running cycle of water,
following the rhyme on the river'?
One in the know drops a line,
there was no A B C to spell,
yet it keeps spreading.
An animated lingua
wraps round the eyeline.
All those that get wind of it
arise and keep counting.
Without a beginning or an end,
For it has no 1 or 9,
not a mark nor a sign.
Speechless, breathless me,
turn to mine, the one,
superior turned-on mind.
And it appeared true,
true to that credible nature
that identifies indeed
the 'name' of the composer!
Meanwhile, a bird of time.
A giant spell takes no time,
eases off in a blink of eye.
I start to breathe,
begin to revive, again in my
native countryside:
some clay-bumps on the river.
I can cry, smile, now I
can shed tears.
Rhyme on the river.
What's in a river?
'Lores of time immemorial,
an open heart on the move!'
Is there anyone out there
'tapped into the running cycle of water,
following the rhyme on the river'?
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 9:40 PM UTC
Your hair was full of roses in the dewfall as we danced,
The sorceress enchanting and the paladin entranced,
In the starlight as we wove us in a web of silk and steel
Immemorial as the marble in the halls of Boabdil,
In the pleasuance of the roses with the fountains and the yews
Where the snowy Sierra soothed us with the breezes and the dews!
In the starlight as we trembled from a laugh to a caress,
And the God came warm upon us in our pagan allegresse.
Was the Baile de la Bona too seductive? Did you feel
Through the silence and the softness all the tension of the steel?
For your hair was full of roses, and my flesh was full of thorns,
And the midnight came upon us worth a million crazy morns.
Ah! my Gipsy, my Gitana, my Saliya! were you fain
For the dance to turn to earnest? - O the sunny land of Spain!
My Gitana, my Saliya! more delicious than a dove!
With your hair aflame with roses and your lips alight with love!
Shall I see you, shall I kiss you once again? I wander far
From the sunny land of summer to the icy Polar Star.
I shall find you, I shall have you! I am coming back again
From the filth and fog to seek you in the sunny land of Spain.
I shall find you, my Gitana, my Saliya! as of old
With your hair aflame with roses and your body gay with gold.
I shall find you, I shall have you, in the summer and the south
With our passion in your body and our love upon your mouth -
With our wonder and our worship be the world aflame anew!
My Gitana, my Saliya! I am coming back to you!
6.6k
The river forks at big stone eddy
rending currents meandering course,
its silence speaks not with forked tongue
as kismet's swirling eddies abide
as if time immemorial;
a river naturally cleaved
in two separate distinct directions
befallen destiny without a choice
Spinning round and round in big stone eddy,
time just drifting by in the throes
of doubt — high water rising
beyond the bounds of earth
taking drowning souls up to the sky
Choking on a mouthful of unanswered questions,
suffocating on the parting words left unsaid;
distilling life into poetry hew from being —
trickling out like the spilled out sky —
taken down to the empty riverbed
leave lay' til it's all washed away,
in the music of the pourin' down rain
Freedom embodies metaphysical incarnations
riding the prevailing currents it can't control
Gravity-gathered down to the shoreline,
manifest reclamation after the deluge,
from somewhere far above the high-water mark
Swallowed by all the darkness woe betides,
thinking you carry such a weight to hold...
It seems all got a handful of sand to toss
up into the wind to seed the clouds
The totality of eclipsing silence grows
that rent the stillness of a dream
of peace on an eroding shoreline
In an Eddy of Expectations & Disappointment
dark waters will ebb and flow,
imponderable as drowning hope,
leaving it all out there to dry after the rain
believing in your heart —
the best is yet to come
Jesse Stillwater ... November 2018
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 12:09 PM UTC
An earth sized boulder
dislodged with the thunder
Unleashing catacombs
of terrestrial darkness
lay compressed beneath it
for a thousand years
The hidden ancients
heard its soul hold forth;
their rumbling silence
― laid bare ―
They heard its voice
rises up with the ears
of a new-born fawn
Beguiling roots,
solid as a rock,
hold together
like dark matter
A soul weight
beyond measure
shouldering the torn
of a divided heart
Heaviness ...
O' the heaviness ―
just a platitude for
what you feel
when it all comes
tumbling down
to the ground
Venerable
times immemorial:
an urging silence
pushing down
to the grave,
trying to unlearn
the things
never known
about the hearts
we leave behind
Jesse Stillwater
May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 2:01 PM UTC
You give me your arm
and we take to the streets
A plethora of bombardments
stimulations and senses
dissatisfaction ringing in our ears
but only faintly––––
and the rush of the waves
bursting down their lanes
crashing into the cacophonies of beyond
but all oblivious
wonders of our bodies
demons of the mind
enticing and exciting all the feathers of the future
ruffled and untangled
purity in its core
smells and sights flashing
immaterial and immortal
from time immemorial
Nov 21, 2012
Nov 21, 2012 at 2:41 AM UTC
A SALUTE TO TEACHERS *
Since time immemorial, in every land,
Saints and teachers, enlightened,
Have shown the way by lighting the lamp
Of knowledge and wisdom, true and fair,
To faltering mankind, mired in ignorance;
In situations painful and conflicting,
Unable to choose between right and wrong.
In the hoary tradition of true teachers
Of all religions the world has seen,
A luminous star, Dr.Radhakrishnan,
Rose on the glorious Indian horizon,
Guided the world with knowledge, ancient and modern,
In the light of the Vedas and Upanishads
As well as the wise doctrines of other religions.
Great Plato's ideal of a philosopher king,
Was realized when he was elevated
To our nation's highest position as President,
An inspiring teacher, par excellence,
Unfailing light to future generations.
**** **** **** Narasimhamurthy. M.G.
*Dr.S.Radhakrishnan's birthday (5 September ) is celebrated as TEACHERS' DAY.
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 5:39 AM UTC
I walked into a sunset that did not belong to me,
Its vivid colours burning across the Mediterranean Sea.
In a fragile, elusive moment of composure
I gazed at the choppy sea moving closer
To the rugged, pebbly, rocky shore
Where I stood alone against the Rock.
The Rock of Gibraltar watched with a smile
As the turbulent Med pulsating with life
Scattered its waves against the strand,
And the sapphire waters kissed the ancient land.
The stormy sea embraced the coast
With fierceness intangible as a ghost.
The air vibrated with a taste of freedom,
With barely audible words of wisdom
That travelled across the centuries
To fill the tangy air with memories.
The voices from the past enveloped the Rock
In an alluringly mythical, protective cloak.
I gathered the strength I drew from the Rock;
Fears discarded, the resolve growing strong,
I walked the Med Steps to the very top
Against a dazzlingly splendid backdrop
Of the breathtaking views of the bay,
Basking in the aura of fears thrown away.
Intoxicated by the beauty, hungry for more,
I was feeling elated to the very core.
The fear of heights temporarily conquered,
The contentment felt almost awkward.
Suddenly, the world seemed a different place:
Offering the nature's graceful embrace.
As the starry night slowly descended,
In my solitude, I felt protected
By the mighty Rock standing tall and grand
Guarding the ancient, immemorial land.
Copyright: Nara Hodge 2018
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 1:31 PM UTC
From times immemorial,
We have dreamt ,
Carved ourselves,
The crown of grace.
A little girl walks today,
With big dreams and passion.
A women of tomorrow,
With power and ambition.
Great things does she,
From wisdom to the heart.
Not only the vessel of mankind,
But also the anchor of life.
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 8:48 AM UTC
#*“You cannot hold it, but it will cradle you.
You cannot see or touch it, but when contact comes,
You will see me, hold me, as in the days of your youth,
When you loved me best,
And I, you.”*
**From: Seven New Poems for Seven Days #2: Hover
... by Nat Lipstadt**
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
in memoriam to memories:
for Miriam and Nat
reading each thought numerous ticks of days,
imbibe the silent of the silence
hanging from the rafters this wilderness roof;
grayed heartwood walls that separate
fractals of inseparable distances ― celebrations
the roads taken ― memories of those left behind
at the side of the mile untrodden
Congregated love and sorrow’s spoken words
scribed on paper bark touchstones ―
etched watermarks of perpetual tides
patina the afterglow of life's ebb and flow,
traces of everything and naught can ever fill
Experiencing intimate moments immemorial;
the whispers of living pulse still murmurs
in the gentle breeze between the gathered words of heart
breathing deeply ― a rush of systemic truth
born in the wholly sacred blood bequeathed
A soul outside the lines ponders ―
the sum whole of a life well lived;
coming to understand, although
all might not see the same light shine:
there’s a place one day we’ll return
we found along the way
because one day will come by here …
harlon rivers ... Memorial Day weekend ... May, 2018
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 2:29 PM UTC
*Would nectar be as sweet, if bees did not adore it?
From miles away it’s intoxicating smell, alluring them
Waiting to be ****** as the flower can’t bear the load
One drop contains all the sweetness of nature
Immortalized as the elixir of life, since time immemorial
If it was not for the bees, we would have been deprived
Of that drop of sweetness, that can match the lover’s delight
Making this world a sweeter place, dripping from flowers
Honey, here I come with the magic potion
Enjoying every drop of it, as we adore it, as much as the bees*
© Amitav (Radiance)
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 10:30 PM UTC
I walked through life with a rude and fresh arrogance:
I was taught it when I was still a big fish in a small pond,
When I still had a can-do-it-all attitude, when the dance
Was life, and the tune was want, and the performer, fond,
Moved like anything. Anyone. Save Lethe, who dulled me,
Who pulled me under waves when I cursed the sea,
When I thought, to time immemorial, I had the energy
To do anything, go anywhere, be anything I wanted to be -
I lived off borrowed time, and borrowed fire,
And borrowed, all of my once blazing desire
Fed no one, but lost dreams - I reap the harvest now:
I should have been a doctor, and I plough
My lack of care and decision, my blind turning, and the resulting salt,
I trudge through the compost of other unfinished deeds, never to halt -
I never knew the meaning of a battery, even when it ran down;
My phone recharges at night, and I simply squint and frown,
Trying to make sense of a world sensible to girl who used to dream;
Sleeping through waking, as though nothing would be as it would seem.
Sep 13, 2021
Sep 13, 2021 at 6:31 PM UTC
I was the childlike girl next door for him.
He was a gentleman and the crush of almost all the neighbours.
He never spoke too much so I was never a good listener.
For him I never mattered so much.
But I, like all other neighbours, had a crush on him.
His body never got my focus, but his writings were.
Day by day I fell in love with his unspoken words.
On a rainy day I wanted to express my love,
As because it was his favourite season after all.
Yes, he loved monsoon a lot.
Many neighbours had asked him once,
Why he love monsoon so much?
He never spoke too much, as I have mentioned above.
But he said he will narrate it on a rainy day.
When I went and knocked his door,
His roommate said he had went upstairs.
Greeting him a smiley bye, I went to meet my guy.
Love for him or for his words, I was confused a lot.
But I had already started calling him as my guy.
Silly or stupid or again childlike girl, what he will address me now?
I was wondering and riding towards him.
He was sitting near the terrace door and was writing something.
Hey, hi, Writing some poems I guess Mr....
I was silent for a while.
It didn't bother me anytime, but I realised,
I do not know his name.
*** what a great lover I am,
Without knowing his name I had fallen in love with him.
My heart corrected me this time.
You have fallen in love with his writings and unspoken words and not with him.
I smiled and said to my heart,
May be I have fallen in love with his writings and unspoken words,
But the love for him is pure and real,
And I believe the love for him is also devine.
My conversations with my heart was broken by his touch.
Seeing me lost in my own world,
He had given me a **** on my shoulder and said,
I am a writer so I want to be known by that.
He may have wanted to say something more.
I truly like a bad listener stopped him and said,
Shakespeare had once said,
"What's in a name!"
And being a lover of your writing,
I too want to say,
In name there is no fame
Because fame is there where creativity and innovation resides.
He actually smiled and kissed my forehead,
And then took me to the terrace and said,
When I had come,
The place was new, people were new,
But when I saw you, I felt something not new.
I do not knew by your name but your smile was very much known.
Your smile was like the sunshine which I knew from a time immemorial.
Then were you spoke to me for the first time,
Your words were like the breeze which inspires me to write.
I used to notice when you read my poems after coming home.
Your comments after reading my poems everyday,
Was the best gift for everytime.
And you thought you never mattered so much!
I was happy that you understood my writings more than I had expressed in words.
I am not worried about the answer, I may get now,
But after knowing about your favourite season,
Monsoon became my favourite too.
Without any fear, I want to confess that,
I have fallen in love with the childlike girl who stays nextdoor.
Whatever be your answer,
Just say it keeping the raindrops as our witnesses.
Drenched in rain but my tears were real.
I felt like Monsoon had gifted the best rain that day.
Without any confusion, I hugged my guy.
Many days, months and years had passed since then.
Then what!
He continued with his Writings and unspoken words.
He now goes for world tours,
To spread his unspoken words.
And I?
Being his better half, accompany him everywhere.
May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 5:02 PM UTC
Surely that sobbing
couldn't have been going since
time immemorial.
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 12:37 AM UTC
When the chill of earth black-breasted is uplifted at the
glance
Of the red sun million-crested, and the forest blossoms
dance
With the light that stirs and lustres of the dawn, and with
the bloom
Of the wind’s cheek as it clusters from the hidden valley’s
gloom :
Then I walk in woodland spaces, musing on the solemn
ways
Of the immemorial places shut behind the starry rays
Of the East and all its splendour, of the West and all its peace;
And the stubborn lights grow tender, and the hard sounds
hush and cease.
In the wheel of heaven revolving, mysteries of death and
birth,
In the wonb of time dissolving, shape anew a heaven and
earth
Ever changing, ever growing, ever dwindling, ever dear,
Ever worth the passion glowing to distil a doubtful tear.
These are with me, these are of me, these approve me,
these obey,
Choose me, move me, fear me, love me, master of the
night and day.
These are real, these illusion : I am of them, false or frail,
True or lasting, all is fusion in the spirit’s shadow-veil,
Till the knowledge -Lotus flowering hides the world
beneath its stem;
Neither I, nor nor God life-showering, find a counterpart in
them.
As a spirit in a vision shows a countenance in fear,
Laughs the looker to derision, only comes to disappear,
Gods and mortals, mind and matter, in the glowing bud
dissever :
Vein from vein they rend and shatter, and are nothingness
for ever.
In the blessed, the enlightened, perfect eyes these visions
pass,
Pass and cease, poor shadows frightened,
leave no stain
upon the glass.
One last stroke, O heart- free master, one last certain
calm of will,
And the maker of Disaster shall be strcken and grow
still.
Burn thou to the core of matter, to the spirit’s utmost
flame,
Consciousness and sense to shatter, ruin sight and form
and name!
Shatter, lake-reflected spectre; lake, rise up in mist to
sun;
Sun, dissolve in showers of nectar, and the Master’s
work is done.
Nectar perfume gently stealing, masterful and sweet and
strong,
Cleanse the world with light of healing in the ancient
House of Wrong !
Free a million mortals on the wheel of
being
tossed !
Open wide the mystic portals, and be altogether lost!
2.3k
on beds of fragrant sights
through charms of sourest deeds
it rains away all spring
all when my heart bleeds
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
i know not who i'll be
or what i really am
an immemorial soul
in nimbler storms which swam
among the crowd of flowers
so sickeningly sweet
would lie the boldest aphids
upon the roses feed
my feathers trod on winds
challenge His modest grace
through marching fleet of life
in ****** shadows laid
with semblance of a calm
in grooves of wilderness
in arms of ecstasy
which life stands to confess
but how shall these two feet
embark a lonely trip
perhaps find love so still
as dew on roses' lip
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
in faintest of moonlights
on dewy grasses seen
inscribed upon my palm
is meaning of my being.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 8:20 AM UTC
A bond so great it never breaks us,
Sisters united through blood,
So far apart,
But so close we stand.
My rock, My help,
My everything.
The bridge between me and the real world.
My life's imaginary without yours
The bonds of sisterhood stand tall and strong.
A bond of friendship, love and laughter
Great memories shared through bonds unbreakable
Will stay with us for life,
For death,
And time immemorial.
For my greatest friend,
My sister,
My life!
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 7:24 PM UTC
*He is
My Azure Dreambird,
(The Sovereign of Songbirds)
That soars upon
Skies of Resonance.
His sapphire wings
Weightless by valor,
Hallowed every doubt
That
Cursed my shadow
Until credence reigned.
He is
The Musicality of my Soul,
That I climbed as
A stairway
Into
Gates of Aether
Upon
Porcelain keys
Of an impearled
Grand Piano.
His sound emittance
Ascended in frequency until
Pitch became subliminal
For height
ceased to be
Height,
And depth,
Ceased to be
Depth,
It was
Ineffable harmony
And resolution became effortless
With
The touch of his hand.
He is
The Wings of the Dawn,
A Sweeping Rapture
That raised
Me
Beyond the stratosphere
Until graced by
Untarnished embrace
Of the Baptistery of the Sun.
I burst
From Light’s Intemerate Womb,
Renewed and
Gazed upon Terraqueous Gaia
Then for once,
(Yes, for all eternity)
Succumbed to
Faith in the Transcendence
Of his tender affections.
Woe was existence
Before His lightwaves radiated
Within my heart,
For when I purged my pulse
Of that quaking rhythm
And
Hollow cries
Upon his ears,
He stood moved
And remained
Doughty in his devotion
To me.
In that moment
I fathomed his soul
Glistened
O, for he had not forsook me.
I bear a pilgrimage.
One sought to be
Heard,
Seen,
Felt,
Breathed,
And
Divined
By my
Once
Somnolent spirit
Been
Roused
By the incendiary thew of
His ardor.
My revenant soul
Hath emerged from
The Chrysalis of Time as
The Apotheosis of Astral Flame
(A Reverberation of the Cosmo-Plexus of Love)
That since
The Days of Time Immemorial
Guided by the
Whisper of the stars,
I now cleave
To that celestial susurrus:
To the solace buried beneath
The Soil of Afflicition
(For anguish was all I knew)
In repose
Yet yearning to be
Resurrected
In The Dream of Acquisition,
To for eternity behold
The timeless fervor
That doth layeth
In His heart*
Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 11:52 AM UTC
Who are you?
The you we keep writing about,
We- the poets; poets around the world,
Across time immemorial and
space immeasurable,
We write about you,
We shape your skeleton
With the strength of all the pain
We've borne, and we sculpt your flesh
With the wistful beauty of our tears,
We bring you to life with our words
Make them course through your body
Like blood,
Who are you?
The cry of our first heartbreak?
The joy of a lover's return?
The stunning silence of absolute loneliness?
Of turmoil and torment, the stinging burn?
You're all of the above,
and more- profoundly more,
You're a piece of every poet's heart,
Infinite power, immense emotion,
You are the cumulative of every drop of blood
The poet has shed through their pen
You are the story that stays stifled inside
the confines of paper, until someone comes along
And unlatches your locks,
Absorbs the burden of the poet's grief,
And at that moment, brings you to the form in
which you had been intended to be.
It is then, that you, the very essence,
the very soul of the poet,
Can take flight, blissfully relieved,
When you are read, your creator is finally free.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 5:03 PM UTC
Floating, like a specimen,
in a bell jar in the Chemistry Lab
of Grade XI in Lucknow.
I am suspended. I am floating.
Everywhere is blue.
I hear bubbles and see them rise.
I open my mouth and water rushes in,
salty and warm. I can’t speak.
I can’t cry out.
I am drowning.
I think of Varanasi; skulls
that float. Why do dead
skulls float? Why do the living
sink?
I want to rise. The sea
is inky black. An octopus
floats by. A school of clown
fish gaze at me curiously.
I think of swimming
like the fish in a warm ocean
in the Andaman Sea. I hear
laughter, I feel the sun on my
shoulders.
Oh, the sun. I miss the sun.
I crave heat. It is so very
cold. It is so very cold.
I feel something warmer
on my lower back. I look.
A dolphin is smiling.
Yes, smiling!
I look down at myself.
I am a mermaid!
My hair is blonde, my waist
is tiny, and my *******
are encased in shells.
I laugh gleefully.
The dolphin, as if on cue,
swims below me
and I mount him.
And then, like we have been
doing this since time immemorial,
our bodies in sync,
we float upwards.
Joy abounds. An effervescence,
a lightness of spirit, a playfulness
that heals.
The water is getting warmer
and paler. We playfully swim
with all the time in the world.
And as I surface for the air
that I don’t need,
I am full of peace.
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 5:22 AM UTC
Come, let us to the sunways of the west,
Hasten, while crystal dews the rose-cups fill,
Let us dream dreams again in our blithe quest
O'er whispering wold and hill.
Castles of air yon wimpling valleys keep
Where milk-white mist steals from the purpling sea,
They shall be ours in the moon's wizardry,
While the fates, wearied, sleep.
The viewless spirit of the wind will sing
In the soft starshine by the reedy mere,
The elfin harps of hemlock boughs will ring
Fitfully far and near;
The fields will yield their trove of spice and musk,
And balsam from the glens of pine will fall,
Till twilight weaves its tangled shadows all
In one dim web of dusk.
Let us put tears and memories away,
While the fates sleep time stops for revelry;
Let us look, speak, and kiss as if no day
Has been or yet will be;
Let us make friends with laughter 'neath the moon,
With music on the immemorial shore,
Yea, let us dance as lovers danced of yore
The fates will waken soon!
2.1k
they say there ain't no escape hatch; i disagree,
no more are you free; bounded by a decree,
eyes have witnessed an evolution that it scares me,
the free will to be; seems an unattended history,
today on this ground; mere consumers are we,
where did the buzzing bee flee?
towards the silent orchestra maybe,
if you were to chew on a green cynical berry,
to flex them grey nerves in a yellow striped taxi,
would you join the earthdance in a revolting spree?
or lay back, smoke a cigar and remain a memory?
a part of this unethical trend, i don't want to be,
a moral war has fallen upon thee;
yet i haven't a clue of what degree,
trade your self in to one psychedelic army,
this liquid soul seems like a floating frisbee,
waiting to break free; wanting to be a gypsy;
en route to time immemorial; i'll keep busy,
they say there ain't no escape hatch; i disagree...
Apr 25, 2012
Apr 25, 2012 at 5:24 AM UTC
Time is of the deception of immemorial agreement...
People, friends and family will get together time and time again -
To discuss what?!?
Most of the time, they petulantly boast about their own personal apotheosis -
What does this prove?
Where are they going with their abrogated thoughts?
The people speak with impetuous pertinence and achieve absolutely nothing....
An asundering of cryptic thoughts that fell into oblivion -
This is the sole reason why the inauspicious world will disintegrate and become a history book for worlds to come...
When time has come to overlap itself . . .
The world's clock stops. . .
Your heart stops. . . .
Time, the inevitable dimension that will carry on with no remorse
When we are gone. . . .
When I am gone..
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 8:59 PM UTC
Love transcends time and distance
Death cannot quell the loving heart
But each mile weighs a thousand pounds
And we are a thousand miles apart
Darlin' the universe has spoken
And rained down from the skies
Birthed reality in our souls
As it opened up our eyes
Life is bathed in hues of gold
The heart now beats in time
With souls who searched millenia
To be complete, sublime
But each mile weighs a thousand pounds
And we are a thousand miles apart
Love transcends time and distance
Even death can't quell a loving heart
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 12:07 PM UTC
I am a thousand hooded Cobra
The king of all poisonous snakes
I can dance beautifully
And I live in India
from times immemorial
I am totally different from
Other cobras in the world
Though my bite is venomous
People continue to worship me
Because I have got
The religious sanctity
I adorn Lord Shiva’s neck
And I am the couch for Lord Vishnu
Many people try to squeeze
My poison out of my teeth
And some rationalists tried to **** me
But they can not **** my race
I will grow at enormous pace
I will continue to **** the people
But they will continue to worship me
The politicians continue to pamper me
Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 2:56 AM UTC