"innovation" poems
Love is like serving your customers,
Leave them with good service and experiences,
and they'll give you trust and loyalty like no other.
Get the technical know-hows.
Meet the demands and know the points and marks,
To truly satisfy your customer's needs and wants.
Like loving a person,
You need to go ahead and seek for innovation.
for competitors are just around, making their observations.
Loving is satisfying,
what's the point of begging your demands,
If one should not adjust, or else better disband.
And I am a loyal customer.
I am a patron of her love and care,
she gives me more than enough of what she shares.
And I am a lucky customer.
For she makes me feel most important,
Everywhere we go and everything as applied.
She leaves every experiences,
with glitters and stars in my eyes.
That's why I love her much, and I cannot deny.
The joy of contentment,
Lies in this constant ever changing quest,
where we are moving, for each one's true happiness.
Feb 21, 2011
Feb 21, 2011 at 5:58 PM UTC
Life caught a baby eagle:
Injured, alone and named Hope.
Fell from a tree; would have
Ended Hope's days probably.
To bring him home wouldn't be
Entering Hope into the
Chaotic world of men,
Home of addiction to
New coined technology
On making men's work easy?
Life didn't has a choice though;
On Hope's left wing was a
**** as big as her index
Yet to be healed by Psyche next.
In the home, with Life's mother
Night and into the day,
Neighbors in and pushed out,
Over the wing they both worked.
Vigorous task it might be,
A life of a bird depend,
Together they had made
Impossible into
Optimistic victory:
New metallic wing awaits the world.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 12:03 PM UTC
Contentment is for people who are satisfied to stop thinking.
To turn off all those parts of your head
That constantly generate questions
And continuously probe the accepted.
To hush the cells jumping up and down
To show you a new way to approach a topic,
Begging you to acknowledge the incredible plans
That could be birthed from the impossible way
You see the ordinary.
But I have an obligation to my mind.
Yes, sometimes it feels more like shackles than duty,
And yes, sometimes I want to abandon my notepad and paper
On the bedside table to have a "me day"-
Whatever that's supposed to mean -
Or halt the carousel of whirling thoughts for a nap,
But I can't.
I will always be curious, at my roots.
I grow from the dedication to my thoughts, upward.
A tree straining towards the light of innovation.
Why would I forsake the places my thoughts can take me,
Or the adventures my pen can take in translating them.
For the gifts this head gives me,
I must always be on call, on edge, on fire.
Contentment: unattainable.
Even if it weren't it would interfere with the very process
That would allow me to derive what meaning lies in contentment.
So that's my secret.
The Hulk was always angry, which is how he controlled and dominated.
I'm always searching, which is how I find and thrive.
I can't drown out my thoughts just to soak up the sun.
That's not contentment: that's complacency.
And complacency is not in my vocabulary.
How funny-
I am content with losing that one word
For the chance to be brilliant.
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 2:16 PM UTC
What is here so fine!
What does Nigeria define?
True democracy?
Mere literacy?
Good old days we praise
Today's faith we raise
Happiest beings on earth
Survivors, yes from birth
The world's awaited invention
Four Hundred and Nineteen(419) injections
Immune is the world, oh corruption!
Awareness a skin deep innovation
Rich geographical virtues
Hospitable family values
Wealth, milk and honey
Our destiny how sunny
Our hope the pride we know
Fulfilments the future we show
I applaud greatness oh!!
I hate Nigeria, No!!!
(c) obukov
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 7:01 AM UTC
There's an item that's truly essential
Of a roughly cylindrical frame
It's a marvel of modern invention
And a legend it duly became
It surpasses the birth of electric
And eclipses the slicing of bread
If it wasn't for this innovation
Then I think I would surely be dead
Oh, Gaffer-tape, Gaffer-tape
Stick with me
Fix my wardrobe
Effortlessly
Hold up the curtains
Wax my thighs
Gaffer-tape Gaffer-tape
Improvise
It's useful for picking up hamsters
And it serves as a passable tie
As a gag for a amateur gangster
Or the crust of a blueberry pie
For a mite of podiatry pleasure
You can use it for mending your socks
If Pandora had come up against it
Then she'd never have opened her box
Oh, Gaffer-tape, Gaffer-tape
Holding fast
Adhesive savior
Unsurpassed
Smooth as mirror glass
Diamond tough
Gaffer-tape, Gaffer-tape
Marvelous stuff
It's bringing our nations together
And it's holding them firmly in place
You can use it to pull back your wrinkles
For a genuine Hollywood face
It'd surely have saved the Titanic
And they took seven rolls to the moon
Keep it near and be calm in a crisis
And predicaments inopportune
Oh, Gaffer-tape, Gaffer-tape
Mending sails
If you're tired
Of hammering nails
Buy some now
It's a thing to behold
Gaffer-tape, Gaffer-tape
Solid gold
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 7:57 PM UTC
How can we not feel Adam’s pain
See the features of this creature
Tortured by people’s disdain
And not weep at his wretched state
Frankenstein’s creation
From his strange life equation
Electrical innovation
In that once marvelous now dead age
How can we not feel Adam’s pain
The child with no real name
Only a borrowed nomenclature
To define his human inhumane nature
Torches and Preachers calling for his head
Love denied never finding peace
This so called beast could rip us to shreds
Tear our flesh asunder and squash our heads
But when he speaks racked with life’s pain
A horridly embellished mirror of my own
My defenses break opening the floodgate
And the monster makes me cry
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 4:22 PM UTC
In a world of goblins, orcs and the likes there lived a hero. This hero was a person of peasant blood and a friend to the weak. Every day the people of his little village would go to him for help. The hero would never turn them away, and always solved their problems. However, the day came for them to ask of a task too large. The hero was sent out to fight a battalion of goblins, orcs and trolls. This battalion was well known for being the most ruthless and devastating in all the land. Everywhere they went they left a trail of destruction and despair. But the hero being bound by honor went to confront them head on. He sliced through the goblins with his expertly crafted sword. He pierce the flesh of the orcs with the precise shots of his bow. It was truly a sight to see, one man taking on an army. But much to the villagers dismay, by the time he got to the trolls, his quiver was empty and his sword had broke. He still took them on with his bare fists. As if possessed by a beast, the hero tore through lines of the battalion slaughtering all in his path. None stood a chance until he reached the one who lead the battalion of death. Without saying a word, the hero grabbed the leader by the neck and lifted him off the ground. Squirming in his iron grip, the leader begged and pleaded for his life to be spared. The hero contemplated this for a time but the leader had tricked him, he pulled his dagger from his sleeve and stabbed the hero. The hero succeeded in saving the village that day, and that's why we're left with you. The son of a hero who gave his own life to save his people. The fate of the village left in the gauntlets of his son prodigy. there's only one problem with that: you don't know how to be a hero. You can't fight, in fact, you can barely pick up a sword. The mere chance that you would've failed to get even one of your fathers traits is amazing. With you being the best "hero" we've got left, you're being sent to a larger city to train. The shining city of Miridas, a cultural capitol and center of innovation. There you will me the man who will cultivate your potential and temper your skills. That is, if you have any skills. You leave tomorrow at dawn, to start your new life.
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 4:32 AM UTC
*I've been climbing up these stairs for so long now,
But I'm still standing from where I started this brawl,
Is this a joke or am I part of a haunted story,
Cause lately I've been deprived of all the light and glory,
I try so hard to take one more step ahead,
But I fall back even harder instead,
I can hear the voices telling me to let this go,
Except that I am not ready yet to **** my own show,
How do I beat this out with merely a house of cards?
I'm not even an expert at beclouding my battle scars.*
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 12:50 PM UTC
Every ounce of pressure against my veins,
like the flood of heavy summer rains.
Trying to escape the coating of my flesh,
internal tensions I could not oppress.
I hear crickets, smell the morning dew.
All I can ever concentrate on is you.
Made to feel nervous but oh so calm,
sometimes even sweet like cherry lip balm.
A moment of combustion then release,
your tongue wanders onto my body, into a crease.
I'll never care if I get rich,
so ever long as you ease my twitch.
Stale smoke and the scent of butane,
breath seeps into me like a bloodstain.
You, a child at heart
and I, a freak into abstract art, like Ad Reinhardt.
What a fine creation, our own constellation,
an innovation, better than intoxication.
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 1:00 PM UTC
Dar Al-Hekma University hosted its second fashion show on Sunday that featured the work of its second batch of fashion design undergraduates.
The event, titled “Luminosity” was held under the auspices of Princess Reem **** Muhammad Al-Faisal. President of the university Dr. Suhair Hassan Al-Qurashi said: “Providing such events to our students before graduation exposes them to industry leaders of their prospective industries and gives them a head start in their careers.
“Dar Al-Hekma University’s students stand out because of the combination of their high caliber and the opportunities the university provides for them.”
Along with industry leaders, families of participating students attended. The event started with an opening speech by the department chair for the fashion design program Dina Kattan, who then introduced the sophomore and junior students’ work.
Afterward, models wearing three-piece collection garments designed by senior students scheduled to graduate this year took the stage and were graded by four judges.
Kattan said: “I am so proud of the work my students presented today; they worked really hard and they deserve a big hand. “Everyone was impressed with the level of creativity and attention to detail they demonstrated.”
The judges were Batool Jamjoom, businesswoman in the fashion industry and manager and owner of Jamjoom Fashion House; Amra Alabdalilsharif, director of the innovation and visual merchandising department at Rubaiyyat; Dalal Al-Hasan, a fashion designer; and Aram Kabbani, Dar Al-Hekma alumna and fashion stylist.
The grades students received during the fashion show will form part of their final grade. One of the students whose designs were featured at the show, Zahar Algain, said her collection was inspired by Mexican artist Frida Kahlo.
“Studying fashion has altered my perspective. I view fashion, in the same way that I view life; it’s a matter of balance and proportions.
“My interest in avant-garde fashion has led me to believe in using creativity to solve difficult situations. Algain’s collection was meant to blur the line between art and fashion.
“It is inspired by Frida Kahlo but with a fictional twist. “The story behind my collection is a daydream, a magical love story, an artwork; it is splattered with Frida’s colorful soul and spirit.”
Following this women only event, Dar Al-Hekma is organizing a one-day fashion design exhibition on Tuesday, which is open to all. The event starts from 7 p.m.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-adelaide | www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 11:09 PM UTC
A lion,
born in a western world
caged and tamed to follow a system
History of its ancestry runs deep in its veins
Pain drained and forgotten,
for aspiring to fame to escape from the bottom
got caught in the game
And the path to fame was floppin’
Started shottin’, plottin’ schemes for currency
To fulfil its dreams of living free
But obstacles arise,
disguised as necessities
time consuming tasks that mask the truth
Bill bills money power
No time to stop sinking deeper every hour
Bills bills money power
No time to stop
..And appreciate nature, flowers,
Bills bills money power
Bills bills money power, power,
Power is suttin they’ll never have
cause powers that be, mediate a mentality
that’s blind and cant see
Busy concentrating,
contemplating 'bout money when
energy should be spent on education,
cause knowledge is power,
And power is creation
Innovation of new and, wonderful things,
And, some do wonderful things
But this lion, inside is crying
Was hard as iron, but finds he’s dying,
Spending time on petty crimes,
Chooses to sit at the back of the bus,
And cuss his friend with the word
******
Talkin’ bout gun trigger,
For fun I figure its dumb,
But makes sense,
When he’s watching 50 Cent talk nonsense.
Jan 13, 2011
Jan 13, 2011 at 1:30 PM UTC
Curls.
Lengthened, stretching
Auburn curls.
Winding around the delicacies
Of profound life.
Growing incandescently
In a newfound, unsound method.
Vibrant with innovation,
Yet in the same instance, arid.
Questionable.
Irresistible.
Undefinable.
Desirable.
Allegorical.
Many are awe-struck by this oracle --
She loathes her curls.
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 4:07 PM UTC
five years ago, June 2018,
I, poet Sir Humbug,
wrote:that the job of the artist was to be
luminous and dangerous
<>
*the job of the artist
is to be
luminous and dangerous
luminous to others
by being
dangerous to themselves
when the words are ripped from the chest,
atmosphere disbursed by the body’s projectile messes,
starburst fireworks,
luminous and dangerous,
luminating the shared night,
laminating your truths,
in poems disguised
and so the job,
our work,
begins*
<>
five years on,
somethings have changed,
indeed, the dangers of
being luminous,
clarifying and exposing,
the requisite badge of courage,
need-be more desperately earned
the work is more risky,
as the rules of now are none,
and the risk of good taste,
thoughtful caring,
exposing you innards outwardly,
so easy to demean
and sadly
that titillates the iliterati
like a fire-working fireflies flashing,
their in-concert of ligh attracts the
oohs and aahs
but too,
the restless for glory,
opinionated blowhard,
whose critical boundaries of ill will
are
boundless
yet,
write on, right on
to be where courage be the
sticking point!
your verbs must be pointy,
your direction true,
adjectives of modest innovation,
craft harder, then harder again,
for the work must be honest
in a manner most delicate
now is the time of
subtlety -
if one must bang pots to be heard,
that you to are but a noisemaker, a loser,
an addition to those
lost in the din
quiet passion,
thoughtful insight
to inside, to the tender parts,
will rule the day
and the blow smokers
will rue the day,
as their pretenses chafe and flail wayside,
and your words,
be like sightings of new lands
where you take us utterly beholden,
willing explorers to places most wonderfully
luminous and dangerous!
Jul 10, 2023
Jul 10, 2023 at 11:25 PM UTC
The urge of something new
craves in me
like the claws of a hawk
deep into the skin of its prey.
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 7:04 PM UTC
Our mother, Gaia, shall never die
Though for us I cannot speak
When Terra does turn her back to our kind
Our might shall seem so meek
Roaring flames do lick her skin
While Chaos’ storms do rage
But Mother Earth will retreat within
And turn to a blank new page.
Zeus will fall when the skies go black
His wife, Hera, to follow when families dissolve
Once the gods fall there’ll be no way back
And hubris will be our final resolve.
Chronus may falter when there’s nobody alive
To observe the passage of hours
When the clocks have all stopped,
Gears unturning under toppled clock towers
No grandfathers left to chime.
But Gaia will live on in sleep so bereft
Long after we’re lost to time.
With no men to wage wars, Ares will fade
Athena too as innovation runs dry
Aphrodite may weep when there’s no love to be made
Hermes, when there’s nowhere to fly
And though our sun will live past our end,
There’ll be no chariot of gold
No homes, no hearths for Hestia to tend
And no music for Apollo to behold
We have long lost one of the faces
Of Artemis, the huntress under moonlight’s reign
And civilization (so-called) now erases
Pan, the wild god, and his sacred domain
What next, I now ask, shall we bid our farewell?
What aspect of humanity lost?
As we stumble along nearer to Hell
Whom shall be the next forgot?
But fear thee not, for life’s most precious gift
is the transience, the temporal nature of Earth
All will change, all will shift
and perhaps a different Cosmos may birth.
Once the stardust settles, a new something to arrive
And we shall perhaps there meet once again
Tied by fresh cords of fate to share new lives.
And all the while, she’s waited for us
Watching and loving those souls immortal
Taking new forms now from different dust
She’ll rejoice and rebirth the primordial
They will rise and then fall and eventually make way
For the pantheon of a new universe to arise
Perhaps not all will look the same--
But close enough for essence to find.
Sep 5, 2023
Sep 5, 2023 at 3:54 PM UTC
I see it
A change is taking place
The good in all is nowhere
Every life is taken for granted
Memories are strung together
In a lost papier-mâché craft
Gaining dust in a Kindergarten classroom
Where the boys and girls of tomorrow live
In a crazed life filled with
Devices and contraptions
It makes us all feel blue
But we caused it
What we see is what we want
We see what we caused
We kissed the sweet lips of evolution
And it opened its legs to innovation
Save the stress for later
We'll all worry about it another time
When silver bullets are sprouting
In the garden of our beautiful
African-American brothers and sisters
And a disillusioned land of education
Save them from this misery
Such a shame that we gave our best
Now you see it -- our paradise is ******
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 7:50 PM UTC
Do not discourage or discard something
because it hasn't been carried out
in the "traditional" way or sense.
For if it weren't for Prometheus' gift
of the Fire of innovation,
where would we be?
Not as "race"
but as a species?
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 2:48 PM UTC
Cancer:
You bathe at night; soak
in the indigo twilight.
Exhausted from the
overload of emotion,
the lunar light cleansed your soul.
Leo:
Charming and cunning,
like the lion, you stalk your
prey. Find the weakness
and exploit it; start the fire,
and then claim your innocence.
Scorpio:
You are the end and
beginning of the cycle.
Reincarnation;
Take the heat, and rise from the
ashes in your final form.
Aquarius:
Water bearer, you
bring life to this alien
landscape. Barren and
undiscovered, this is your
chance to change the world. Long live
your work of innovation.
Virgo:
Tree branch rib cage and
ivy veins that nurture your
winter-bitten soul.
Precious sunlight has returned;
your garden will bloom again.
Aries:
The war going on
inside your brain is growing
tiresome. Your strength
is that of the ram, but you
can't always be the hero.
Pisces:
Submersion. Scared and
eye-level with the Angler.
Take pleasure in the
aesthetic. Perhaps a change
of perspective was needed.
Sagittarius (Father Jupiter Would Be So Proud):
Goddess of the hunt,
your need for adventure and
fearless heart combines
and incarnates the wander-
lust warrior that you are.
Capricorn:
Eyes like a doe; she
is wise, nurturing, and vast.
Motherly strength is
the coat worn over bared bones
and bruised knees. She's her own crutch.
Libra:
Neither side of your
scale may touch the ground.
Chaos may welcome
you with open arms, but she
will grow cold and deranged, love.
Taurus:
Though you are stubborn,
your heart is made of feather,
you fierce, burly ox.
Romantic and devoted,
the darkness in you is gold.
Gemini (The Twin Flame):
How exciting and
infuriating it must
be to look in the
mirror to face your best friend
and your greatest enemy.
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 8:10 PM UTC
"MIXED FEELING."
The saints
are always
crook: why.?
They have
none tolerance for ********* Yes
believe me
they don't,
even Christ
Jesus didn't. Nonetheless
though He
quoted "When your
right cheek
is slapped turn
the left side."
that's no ******** it's
what make
a Saint. But
He hesitated
not to chase the Merchandise
out the
Lord's temple.
********* are: like, sometimes where positivity is
anticipated finding negativity there
right is
the biggest
******** in the
whole wide
crazy world.
Full of
crazy thangz, crazy people living crazy lifestyle. Wide
life, out
the jungle,
homicides, massacre Wonder why we breathing, when
we living to
die. Or I'm
high? (Sigh)
when will the
world halt being ridiculously
crazy. Said
they he's
zany. Plagued
the sages
mad. However
sages are the
last hopes
to heal
the world.
Corona-virus
army, enemy
agent of segregation. What right have
you to black
me, who am
I to white
a brother. ?
When we
looked just
the same, being humanbeing.
How to become
human, Auth-positive thinking faculty, creativity,
optimism build only, nothang but
possibility. Innovation, inspiration,
motivation.
Here rode
time on the
road to glory
is there any future anywhere.? if
there ever is
a time for
everythang
le' me use
mine now. I
was told
the future
is now, I
wanna live
it unfolding
my pages
stepping the
stair cases,
roller coaster,
fortune searching
I
ride slow,
nonetheless
I gets heading
I should rush
not, yet
on steadily.
#C9_fm
May 16, 2021
May 16, 2021 at 5:08 PM UTC
1969, one voice sent the world's radios to dancing because we were passing the torch from dreaming to reality as we took to the soft landing
That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind
and for just a second, everyone alive got to feel like Einstein but
I bet you as Armstrong looked down he didn't picture the strife and denial of life to so many in sight 40 years later
street riots and technology gone violent controlling the fears of children peering through glass stained in dust as nightmares rush passed the idea of life, crushing everything in sight
we even wrote it in our constitution
Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.
but you'd have to sell your soul to bail from a life ended where money knows no measure
and you can not tell me that shooting an innocent human on mistake is neither cruel no unusual
but the constitution has turned into a wall
to push people so far back on that they couldn't turn and run
or read what was suppose to be a guarantee in the land of the free
and that's just the beginning
we're denying people from entering a country for body modification
when we've been altering our appearance longer than we have had boundaries to deny people from
because we're still leveling cities like we did when we were daydreaming and knocking block castles down
because we're still enslaving humans because of their genetics
but behind sheer curtains, it's all ok
because if you don't see then there's no need to worry
it's easy to ignore it when you have comments and feeds to read before you give the world news a chance at your attention
but what i've never understood
is how innovation and careful thinking placed a device in your hand
and all you came to do with it was carefully craft a 140 character string of ********
but i guess it goes to show
like our constitution
that though manifested to be great for the people by the people
at the end of the day, we're still too self obsessed to look at the rest of the picture
we're still too afraid to peer down at the entire world
so, Neil, I'm sorry, one giant step for man but mankind hardly remembers
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 8:35 PM UTC
Expand your mind frame
Enhance your paradigm
Let thoughts flow through
Like a coursing stream
New aspects and ideas
Pouring over you every second
Washing you in innovation
Occasionally pebbles get smoothed over in your mind
And become coherent
Round, unmoving thoughts
Ideas that have been polished,
Perfected,
Until they are nothing, if not monumental
Don't ever, ever let these ideas go
Away from your body, your body of water
No matter how hard the wind blows them
Keep those close.
Because one day, they'll be flawless
Stones, completely and utterly
Breathtaking,
Something that children marvel at
And adults search for
Adults that ignored their own gems,
The diamonds in the rough that their mind created
So they scavenge,
They sift through the lost rubble and soul of others like them
Hoping to one day find
Something that ignites that spark again
That sets ablaze that fire,
Blows that wind,
Wets that river,
The one they neglected and let dry up
So all those priceless stones they created
Were left to bake in the sun
To become warped
By the same horizons they ignored expanding
The sunsets leaving those gems for the moon to watch over
With wind moving then farther,
And farther,
Until they're completely disappeared
Out of sight
And out of mind
Tossed aside for another lonely,
Stagnant settler to come across
While trying to regain
The paradise they took for granted,
The utopia they threw away,
And the diamonds they tossed aside
They'd give anything to be where you are
To have the opportunities you have
Don't let yourself go,
Never ignore your own soul and being
And tend to that river, let it keep going
So that your mind isn't afflicted with a permanent drought
And you're stuck,
Wading through filth that's not even your own
Just to find the beauty you already have inside
Just let those thoughts rain down on you
And I can guarantee
You'll create something worth looking at
Just you wade and sea
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 1:48 AM UTC
I refuse to participate
In this race
so corporate
Where nothing but competition rules
Where competitors
get thrown to hungry wolves
They call it survival of the fittest
And elimination
of the weakest
Competition they say breeds innovation
As if a creative soul
needs any confrontation!
They corrupt you with conviction
Of wealth, riches, fame and
instant gratification
They put a noose round your neck
With a cabin
enclosing your desk
You toil night and day
To keep
the wolves at bay
You die a little every day
Dreaming of things
to do your way
Only you can these fetters break
By doing what you love
Even if it is for a smaller cheque
In the extra time that you have
Gaze at the world
with wonder and awe
Go paint on a canvas, or weave a web of words
Or simply go watch
wild animals and birds
For when you finally go up for review
He will treat us all
with the same view
He
for sure
will ask
Did you laugh, did you cry
Did you
Your precious life enjoy?
I refuse to participate
In this race
so corporate
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 7:09 AM 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
Oh baby –
We were doomed from day one.
Though we weren’t in the Jazz age,
and we weren’t in the modern age,
We were in the age of us.
Wings on my eyelashes,
A silky robe around my shoulders,
You wore a vest and a tee shirt—
Indulged in cowboy bohemia;
God, it was ****
Oh baby, we thought we were unstoppable
We drank too much
Met new people by liquid courage
And found fearlessness suited us well.
We harnessed the trade winds
and went where we wanted.
Interest and innovation embedded in curiosity;
In art and newness and literature and truth.
Calling ******** like we saw it
We were entitled and young and free
No restraints
And hey, maybe that was the problem.
The problem with freeness
Is running and running and running
Until you forget what you’re running towards
And instead find
You’re actually running from.
Oh baby-
We were doomed from day one
We just didn’t know it yet.
I’m just too tired to run anymore.
I could have been like Zelda.
Tired from the facade,
Strong and petrified at the same time,
Finding distractions in every part of life
That made me forget we weren’t as free as we thought we were.
God, Baby—
Didn’t you know we were doomed
From the very first day we met?
I suppose I should thank you:
Thanks for breaking my heart;
You saved me from breaking my own.
I could have been like Zelda.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
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