"jag" poems
Meri aankho ka tara hi , mujhe aankhe dikhata hai
Jise har ek khushi de di , wo har gam se milata hai
Jubaa se kuch kahu , kaise kahu , kisse kahu maa hu
Sikhaya bolna jisko , wo chup rahna sikhata hai ||
Sula kar soti thi jisko
Wo ab shab bhar jagata hai
Sunai loria jisko , wo ab taane sunata hai ||
Sikhane me usse kya kuch kami meri rahi sochu
Jise ginti sikhayi galtiya meri ginata hai ||
Tu gahri chao hai gar zindgi ek dhoop hai Amma
Dhara pr kab kaha tujh sa koi swaroop hai Amma
Agar ishwar kahi par hai usse dekha kaha kisne
Dhaa par tu hi ishwar ka koi roop hai Amma ||
Naa ucchai sacchi hai naa ye aadhar saccha hai
Maa koi cheej sacchi hai naa ye sansaar saccha hai
Magar dharti se ambar tak yugo se log kahte hai
Agar saccha hai kuch jag me to Maa ka pyar saccha hai ||
Jara saa der hone par sabhi se puchti Amma
Palak jhapke bina darwaja ghar ka taakti Amma
Har ek aahat par uska chouk padna fir duaa dena
Mere ghar laut aane tak barabar jaagati Amma ||
**|| Puchta hai Koi Dunia me Mohabbat hai kaha
Muskura deta hu mai or yaad aa jati hai Maa ||**
Sulane ke lie mujhko to khud jaagi rahi amma
Sirrhane der tak aksar meri baithi rahi amma
Mere sapno me pariya phul titli bhi tabhi tak the
Mujhe aanchal me apne le ke jab leti rahi amma ||
Badi choti rakam se ghar chalana jaanti thi maa
Kami thi par badi khusiya lutana jaanti thi maa
Mai khushhaali me bhi rishto me bas duri bana paya
Garibi me bhi har rishta nibhana jaanti thi maa
Laga bachpan me yu andhera hi mukaddar hai
Magar maa hausala dekar yu boli tumko kya dar hai
Koi aage niklne ke lie rashta nahi dega
Mere baccho badho aage tumhare saath hai amma
Kisi ke jakhm ye dunia to ab silti nahi amma
Kali dil me ab to preet ki khilti nahi amma
Mai apanapan hi akshar dhundta rahta hu rishto me
Teri nischal si mamta to kahi milti nahi amma
Gamo ki bheed me jisne hume hasna sikhaya tha
Wo jiske dam se tufanoo ne apna sar jhukaya tha
Kisi v julm ke aage kabhi jhukna nahi bete
Sitam ki ummr choti hai mujhe maa ne sikhaya tha || ||
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 12:39 AM UTC
Darr lagta hai, ki Kahi Tumhe kho na de hum,
Shabdo Mein byaan Nahi kara ja sakta Yeh pyaar,
Aasuyo Mein behaya hua dukh,
Hasi Mein chupaya hua dard,
Zubaan par aane se darta hai, ki kahi tumhe kho na de hum.
Anjaani raaton mein jab mile tum, Toh Aisa laga,
Sansaar mil gaya, par yeh dil hai ki maanta Nahi,
Nikamma banakar dukh deta raha,
Kyunki darr hai tumhe kho na de hum.
Iss aakaash ke soonepan se tanha hai Yeh Dil,
Ki kabhi tumse duuriya na badh jaaye,
Jag ne cheena mujhse, Mujhe ** bhi laga pyaara,
Hoontho se chuloo tum, Mera geet Amar kar lo.
Na ruthne ka dava kiya tha, par wafa Toh Hona hi tha,
Kya hua tera vaada, voh Kasam, voh irada,
Voh kehne vaale, Mujhe 'fareebi' , Kon farebi hai Yeh bata,
Voh jisme gam liya pyaar ke khatir, Ya jisne pyaar ko bech diya?
Shama chahte hai, kyunki darr se darr te hai.
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 2:47 PM UTC
Ik kuddi jida naa mohabbat,
Gum hai. Gum hai, gum hai...
Saad muraadi, soni phabbat,
Guum hai.
Suurat ousdi pariyaan vargi
Seerat di o mariam lagdi,
Hasdi hai taa phul jharade ne
Turdi hai taa gazal hai lagdi.
Lamm-salammi, saru(Saro) de kad di
Umar aje hai marke agg di,
Par naina di gal samajhdi.
Ik kuddi jida naa mohabbat,
Gum hai. Gum hai, gum hai...
Goummeyaan janam janam han hoye
Par lagda jyon kal di gal hai.
Yun lagda jyon ajj di gal hai,
Yun lagda jyon *** di gal hai.
Huney taan mere kol khaddi si
Huney taan mere kol nahi hai
Eh ki chhal hai, eh ki phatkan
Soch meri hairan baddi hai.
Nazar meri har aande jaande
Chehre da rang phol rahi hai,
Ous kuddi nu tol rahi hai.
Saanjh dhale baazaaran de jad,
Moddaan te khushbu ugdi hai.
Vehal, thakaavat, bechaini jad,
Chau raaheyaan te aa juddadi hai.
Rauley lippi tanhai vich
Os kuddi di thudd khaandi hai.
Os kuddi di thudd disdi hai.
Har chhin mennu inyon lagda hai,
Har din mennu inyon lagda hai.
Judde jashan ne bheeddaan vichon,
Juddi mahak de jhurmat vichon,
O mennu aawaaz davegi,
Men ohnu pehchaan lavaanga
O mennu pehchaan lavegi.
Par es raule de hadd vichon
Koi mennu aawaaz na denda
Koi vi mere vall na vehnda.
Par khaure kyun tapala lagda,
Par khaure kyun jhaulla painda,
Har din har ik bheedd juddi chon,
But ohda jyun langh ke jaanda.
Par mennu hi nazar na aunda.
Goum gaya maen os kuddi de
Chehre de vich goummeya rehnda,
Os de gham vich ghullda rehnda,
Os de gham vich khurda jaanda!
Os kuddi nu meri saun hai,
Os kuddi nu apni saun hai,
Os kuddi nu sab di saun hai.
Os kuddi nu jag di saun hai,
Os kuddi nu rab di saun hai,
Je kithe paddhdi sundi hove,
Jyundi ya o mar rahi hove
Ik vaari aa ke mil jaave
Vafa meri nu daag na laave
Nahin taan methon jiya na jaanda
Geet koi likheya na janda!
Ik kudi jida naa muhabat.
Goum hai.
Saad muradi sohni phabbat
Goum hai.
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 1:21 AM UTC
You need a smart Jag,
Not my Fiat.
(That was always the snag -
Now I see it.)
When we dine at The Ritz
I chew jerky.
You're all glamour and glitz -
While I'm quirky.
It ain't gonna work,
There's no maybe.
'Cause we'll both go beserk.
- Shall we, Baby?
© Marcus Lane 2010
Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 11:21 AM UTC
but you are smooth in full regalia
reptilian in your lounge suit
your westchester upbringing
shows in your brooks brothers snake skin boots
so she knows your from old school money
and plants a perfumed eye on your rear end
it sticks there like sweaty glue
every inch of her polished skin
fermented at great expense
and you thought suntans were hard to pay off
try having the ***** pickled in whiskey
but the divorce would leave you
a destitute sideshow on rodeo drive
with nothing but your mansion and your jag
standing between you and the unwashed masses
so you make her slap on another layer of makeup
you drop another crotch rocket happy hardness pill
and slip a few more bucks over the border to Switzerland
and drop a quick prayer to the twin god of Morgan and Stanley
that the market holds for one more day
lounge lizard
pushing seventy
with a twenty two year old ******
on one arm
and the keys to the rolls clutched in your liver spotted hand
your ready for anything
you may be king of the florida keys
but
gotta respect the cash flow
if what your pointless poison
bites off your **** more than goes into your mouth
then ya gotta wonder kiddo
if moving back to the homestead
in Spuyten Duyvil
might be better than lettin lifestyle carjack your life
that twenty two year old ***** you got poured all over your lap
has more spider in her than girlish charm
shes a train wreck waiting to happen
ill get ya to the border safe and sound
don't 'cha worry bout that
have you headed north
fore they even know your gone
may be the king of the florida keys
but it high time we get ya
back to brooklyn fore they bury you down here
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 5:47 PM UTC
Chahe aaye aandhi ya fir koi tufaan ,
Kamzor nahi padegi hamari udaan .
Chhaon ** ya kadakti dhoop ,
Nikhrega hamara naya roop .
Lakh mushibat aaye nahi rukenge hum,
Badhte jayenge yuhi hum kadam dar kadam,
Rastey chahe kitni bhi mushkil kyon na **
Har mushkilo ko chirte hue ek din manzil tk pahuch jayenge hum
Bheedh hamesha us raastey par hai chalti ,
Jahan ** na koi mushkil khadi .
Par humne chuna hai raasta alag ,
Kyunki karna hai humne kuch alag .
Itihaas rachna hai tou bhid se alag hona sikho,
Paristithio se daro nhi paristithio ko badalna shikho,
Ek din wo mukaam tumhe mil hi jayega,
Dekh tumhari safalta ko ek din kismat bhi muskurayega,
Mehnat ke bal par likhenge khud ki takdeer,
Takleef ke hain hum mahaveer.
Na chahat hai sitaron ki ,
Na tamanna hai nazaron ki.
Sirf wahi log itihaas rach ke dikhaya hai,
Jisne apne taklifon ko gale lagaya hai,
whi log asafal rah jate hai,
Jo mushkilo se darr tut jate hai,
Har mushkil ka saamna kar ,
Pahuchna hai apni manzil ke shikhar par .
Khamoshiyan sabra ka imtehaan ban gayi ,
Apne man mein Umeed ki jyot jag gayi .
Hum wo hai jo Kismat par rote nahi
Jo rote hai unke kuchh hote nahi,
Mandabuddhi wala einstein tou paper wala kalaam kahlaya,
Apne kaarnamo se hai vishwa me ek alag pahchaan banaya,
Laakhon kasht aa jaye saamne ,
Hamara ishwar bada hai us har takleef ke aage .
Musibaton se baghna na humne kabhi seekha ,
Hamari nanhi akhiyon ne bahut kuch hai dekha.
Milkar humne ye thana hai,
Naam nahi hume etihaas banana hai,
Ab kisi bhi mushkil se na darna hai,
Kyuki Hume kuchh alag karna hai,
Kuchh alag karna hai..
Collab Poem by
Sonia Paruthi & Shrivastva MK.....…....✍
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 12:35 AM UTC
Too many bottles of this wine we can't pronounce
Too many bowls of that green, no lucky charms
The maids come around too much
Parents ain't around enough
Too many joy rides in daddy's jaguar
Too many white lies and white lines
Super rich kids with nothing but loose ends
Super rich kids with nothing but fake friends
Start my day up on the roof
There's nothing like this type of view
Point the clicker at the tube
I prefer expensive news
New car, new girl
New ice, new glass
New watch, good times babe
It's good times, yeah
She wash my back three times a day
This shower head feels so amazing
We'll both be high, the help don't stare
They just walk by, they must don't care
A million one, a million two
A hundred more will never do
Real love, I'm searching for a real love
Real love, I'm searching for a real love
Oh, real love
Close your eyes for what you can't imagine, we are the xany gnashing
Caddy smashing, bratty *** he mad, he snatched his daddy's Jag
And used the **** for batting practice, adamant and he thrashing
Purchasing ****** grams with half the hand of cash you handed
Panicking, patch me up, Pappy done latch keyed us
Toying with Raggy Anns and mammy done had enough
Brash as **** breaching all these aqueducts; don't believe us
Treat us like we can't erupt, yup
We end our day up on the roof
I say I'll jump, I never do
But when I'm drunk I act a fool
Talking 'bout , do they sew wings on tailored suits
I'm on that ledge, she grabs my arm
She slaps my head
It's good times, yeah
Sleeve rips off, I slip, I fall
The market's down like 60 stories
And some don't end the way they should
My silver spoon has fed me good
A million one, a million cash
Close my eyes and feel the crash
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 12:06 AM UTC
Shall I get drunk or cut myself a piece of cake,
a pasty Syrian with a few words of English
or the Turk who says she is a princess--she dances
apparently by levitation? Or Marcelle, Parisienne
always preoccupied with her dull dead lover:
she has all the photographs and his letters
tied in a bundle and stamped Decede in mauve ink.
All this takes place in a stink of jasmin.
But there are the streets dedicated to sleep
stenches and the sour smells, the sour cries
do not disturb their application to slumber
all day, scattered on the pavement like rags
afflicted with fatalism and hashish. The women
offering their children brown-paper *******
dry and twisted, elongated like the skull,
Holbein's signature. But his stained white town
is something in accordance with mundane conventions-
Marcelle drops her Gallic airs and tragedy
suddenly shrieks in Arabic about the fare
with the cabman, links herself so
with the somnambulists and legless beggars:
it is all one, all as you have heard.
But by a day's travelling you reach a new world
the vegetation is of iron
dead tanks, gun barrels split like celery
the metal brambles have no flowers or berries
and there are all sorts of manure, you can imagine
the dead themselves, their boots, clothes and possessions
clinging to the ground, a man with no head
has a packet of chocolate and a souvenir of Tripoli.
2.9k
Ye sab sach hai, geet nahi hai
Tadpan, peer, udaasi, aansoo,
baichaini, upwaas, amawas,
ajab preet ka mausam man mein patjhar hai,
nayano mein pawas,
is almast jugalbandi se bahar,
kuch bhi preet nahi hai,
ye sab sach hai,
geet nahi hai….
Log mile kitne angaaye,
kitne ulajh ulajh suljhaaye,
kitni bar darane pahunche,
aankhon tak kuch kaale saaye,
jo in ka yugbodh na samjhe,
sathi hoga meet nahi hai,
ye sab sach hai,
geet nahi hai…..
Apmaano ki saras kahani,
jag bhar ko hai yaad jubaani,
aur vijay ke udghoshon par ,
duniya ki yun aanakaani,
khud se alag lade yuddhon mein jeet mili,
par jeet nahi hai,
ye sab sach hai,
geet nahi hai….
Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 5:53 AM UTC
(fictional tale of real beverages)
he sat at table number 9
she chose 10
their eyes never met
but only through the wall wide gilded mirror across the room
he thought her name was Faith
she guessed his was Luke
he took a sip from his mocha massimo every 41 secs
she guessed he was 41, slowly stirring her white-no-sugar earl grey
she wondered if the girl on page three of his 'Sun' was a blond, a brunette or a red head
he wondered what principle she's at in 'Why men love bitches'
they ate lemon and poppy seed muffins with small bites
his lips were firm
hers unable to hold on to the cheery blush lipstick any longer
he thought she was single and had a RSPCA rescued cat called Biscuit
she guessed he was married with three children and a wife called Porscha
she must be driving a Ka
he must be driving a Jag
she waters her plants every Tuesday, goes to pilates classes on Thursday and on Sundays she watches Terms of Endearment in her pink jumper with her friend Chris and a box of tissues
he walks his dog at 7, plays rugby for Long Lane on Saturdays and on Fridays goes for a pint of Guiness with his friend, Joe
he snores/ she sings in the shower
he's a catholic/ she never quite liked Jesus
he hates his wife/ she loves her cookies
they laugh at the old woman shouting at a bus driver in the street and hate gyms, cyclists in Lycra and anything to do with politics
they secretly read Keats, eat onion bagels and tomato soup and listen to Gershwin
*
they never spoke
they never will
because if they would
Faith would never be able to watch Star Wars again and Luke -
Luke would lose his faith in
love at first sight
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 9:52 AM UTC
Jag drogs tillbaka
men bara för en kort stund
Jag såg dina ögon
men bara för en sekund
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 3:10 PM UTC
JESUS emptied the devils of one man into forty hogs and the hogs took the edge of a high rock and dropped off and down into the sea: a mob.
The sheep on the hills of Australia, blundering fourfooted in the sunset mist to the dark, they go one way, they hunt one sleep, they find one pocket of grass for all.
Karnak? Pyramids? Sphinx paws tall as a coolie? Tombs kept for kings and sacred cows? A mob.
Young roast pigs and naked dancing girls of Belshazzar, the room where a thousand sat guzzling when a hand wrote: Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin? A mob.
The honeycomb of green that won the sun as the Hanging Gardens of Nineveh, flew to its shape at the hands of a mob that followed the fingers of Nebuchadnezzar: a mob of one hand and one plan.
Stones of a circle of hills at Athens, staircases of a mountain in Peru, scattered clans of marble dragons in China: each a mob on the rim of a sunrise: hammers and wagons have them now.
Locks and gates of Panama? The Union Pacific crossing deserts and tunneling mountains? The Woolworth on land and the Titanic at sea? Lighthouses blinking a coast line from Labrador to Key West? Pigiron bars piled on a barge whistling in a fog off Sheboygan? A mob: hammers and wagons have them to-morrow.
The mob? A typhoon tearing loose an island from thousand-year moorings and bastions, shooting a volcanic ash with a fire tongue that licks up cities and peoples. Layers of worms eating rocks and forming loam and valley floors for potatoes, wheat, watermelons.
The mob? A jag of lightning, a geyser, a gravel mass loosening...
The mob ... kills or builds ... the mob is Attila or Ghengis Khan, the mob is Napoleon, Lincoln.
I am born in the mob-I die in the mob-the same goes for you-I don't care who you are.
I cross the sheets of fire in No Man's land for you, my brother-I slip a steel tooth into your throat, you my brother-I die for you and I **** you-It is a twisted and gnarled thing, a crimson wool:
One more arch of stars,
In the night of our mist,
In the night of our tears.
2.4k
Jag går såhär, dag efter dag.
Det känns i varje andetag.
Vinden i ditt hår,
varje liten tår.
Jag vill låta dig gå
men trots allt gör det ont ändå.
Jag vill bli kvitt denna smärta,
men den kommer alltid finnas i mitt hjärta.
Det känns i allt jag gör.
Jag går såhär till den dag jag dör.
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 4:45 PM UTC
some days, his eyes are full with angst
his arms down his sides, with his fists as closed as his ears
and all I want to say is *I know how it is
to be so angry you don't know where to go
because the whole world lights you up like a dry stick of explosives,
how it is to have your feelings being so big they start to feel
like extensions of your limbs,
waving uncontrollably
and all you can do to avoid their friction from setting you on fire
is either to cut them off or keep your arms down your sides*
but I step aside, because he can no longer take in my words
his six year old eyes are filled with the nothingness of
an anger so big and unlabeled
but someday, I will tell him and he will understand
I will tell him that even though my blood is not in his veins,
I will cleanse it from soot and silt,
I will be his human shield from this world
I will tear kingdoms apart and slay every last creeper
just to help him level up
and I will uncontrollably, explosively and unconditionally
love him
//
vissa dagar är hans ögon fyllda med ångest
hans armar längs sidorna, med nävar lika hårt stängda som hans öron
och allt jag vill säga är att *jag vet hur det är
att vara så arg att du inte vet vars du ska ta vägen,
för hela världen får en att tända som en torr bunt sprängämnen,
hur det är att ha känslor så stora att de börjar kännas
som förlängningar av dina egna armar och ben,
okontrollerbart viftande
och allt du kan göra för att förhindra att deras friktion tänder eld på dig
är att antingen hugga av dem eller hålla armarna längs sidorna*
men jag går undan, för han kan inte ta in mina ord längre
hans sexåriga ögon fyllda med ingentinget
av en ilska så stor och oettikerad ilska
men någon dag ska jag berätta för honom och han ska förstå
jag ska berätta för honom att även fast mitt blod inte flyter genom hans artärer,
ska jag rensa det från smuts och sot,
jag ska vara hans mänskliga sköld från den här världen
jag ska slita kungariken itu och döda varenda creeper
bara för att hjälpa honom att levla upp
och jag ska okontrollerbart, explosivt och villkorslöst
älska honom
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 4:46 AM UTC
Varje dag jag går på buss tio
och jag ser någon som ser ut som dig
Och det passar bra.
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 12:45 AM UTC
Solskenet verkar
bara stanna för en dag
Värmen drar sig snabbt tillbaka
och ger plats åt en välbekant kyla
Som har satt sina spår
under alla dessa år
På väg mot nya skyar
Ändå samma blåa färg
Jag bosätter mig här
och ger plats åt samma gamla tankar
Som har satt sina spår
under alla dessa år
Regnmolnen verkar
favorisera mitt hem
Jag skulle aldrig nånsin kommit hit
men det fanns plats åt samma gråa skurar
Som har satt sina spår
under alla dessa år
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 1:48 PM UTC
somewhere between the
first date and the last date
Joni Mitchell,
she, me
encapsulates
I'm remembering well,
pounding the dashboard of a red Jag,
laughable now, mocking this fool's need
for a middle age conceit,
his heart to restart,
reactivate
in enthusiastic lockstep with the voice of the
Joni, the blonde goddess of his youth,
foot falling in love, with the accelerator,
speeding along
at a
joyous sixty five,
in places where the signs said,
"thirty five to stay alive"
this aged Rip Van Winkle teenager,
in reverse osmosis of Big,
an old buck, come back to antlered life,
singing along to the CD disc
set on
backdate
*I could drink case of you,
and still be on my feet*
and he could
rediscovering the champagne taste
of a great first date,
feeling the heated blood and fevered mind,
symptoms of the pleasures of a robust
anticipate
thinking she's the one
who will make him great,
happy greater, greater happy
than that one ever, ever,
he thought was roulette~wheel possible,
landing on the red of hopeful for a
floodgate
overture spilling
months, days, minute minute moments (tiny time intervals),
of the fated faded last date later, the next eve, next day
or the next of never,
comes the
deflate
but then,
Joni singing comfort words,
reminding him that he would be,
wisely, sadly seeing, feeling,
both sides now, and yet again,
getting his mind back to
straight
*I've looked at love that way,
but now it's just another show.
you leave 'em laughing when you go,
and if you care, don't let them know,
don't give yourself away*
a grown man punk'd, blasted,
dumb and dumber, dumped,
a feeling sorry sad sack self,
until he himself
reflates,
drink another case,
onto yet another
magical mystery first
date
pounding that dashboard once again,
believing it's not too late
that perfect roommate heart's to find and
captivate,
to attain, invade, acquaint and laughingly...
serenade
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 8:38 PM UTC
Vårvind, kom in
Kylan har tröttat mig och allt står still
Vårvind, när jag var din
betydde kylan ingenting
Så starkt, hjärtat mitt var
Vårvind, vart blir minnen av?
Kylan är ännu kvar
Vårvind viner stillsamt in
Kylan besitter mitt skinn
Så starkt, hjärtat mitt en gång var
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 5:36 PM UTC
I've always been wary--
and celebrated my potential
Betrayal
and
Certain
death(.) (oh)
At The Juice Joint.
All wet. (incorrrr
--ect.)
Applesauce. (non
sense.)
All dolled up. Showed off my
Gams
And Big Jazz
(eyes).
Wanted to get spifflicated with some
Dolls
and
Jellybeans.
...my fella.
?
Didn't have enough clams.
Any of us.
We
're the new
Lost
...generation.
I thought I'd keep the bank open,
but
interest wasn't given
Cash or Check:
didn't really matter.
Might've been
the
cat
's
meeeeeow.
And
how.
Ahhhhh...
we all had our glad rags on.
the Daddies hit on all sixes.
Let's get ZOZZLED on some
jag juice,
dewdropper.
Deeeeeewdropper. ~errrrrrrrr.....
Though giggle juice is more apt
...for me.
Leave the Mrs. Grundys at home...no fire extinguishers allowed.
How ironic.
You were the extinguisher.
Bring Your Own Knife
, we said.
It's a Stabbing Party
, we said.
I didn't want to handcuff you. Didn't want to exchange manacles.
("No, I'm no one's Wife, but OHHHHH, I love my Life.")
I percolate.
I percolate.
I percolate.
I'm not your quiff.
...not your sheba...or a vamp.
Just admire my
chassis
if you will.
they
all
do
The engine'll purr
for you,
~~if you turn the keys just so
Everything was
Copacetic.
Copacetic...
For a time.
(get'hotget'hot!)
Caesar's here.
Hussssshhhhhhhh...
...speak
~~eeeeeaaaaassssyyyyy.
And then I realized.
I'm tired of being Caesar
( . )
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC
I was checking out the girls
Looking for a dance
When I got close enough
I saw her come on glance
I asked, "Do you two step"
She looked into my eyes
She said, "Honey, do you know
You're a mindreader in disguise"
JUST A DOWN HOME BOY
UPTOWN SATURDAY NIGHT
I WAS COUNTRY BACKWOODS
SHE'S BIG CITY LIGHTS
I WAS LOOKING FOR A CHEVY
WHEN A JAG ROLLED IN SIGHT
JUST A DOWN HOME COUNTRY BOY
UPTOWN SATURDAY NIGHT
Her perfume was awesome
It hit me like a truck
When it comes to being lucky
I never had so much
My first trip in the fast lane
i could feel the fun begin
While we talked about the weather
I felt a warm front moving in
REPEAT
With my long legged, two legged dear
Already zeroed in
It was hard to keep my fever
Under a hundred and ten
REPEAT
May 25, 2012
May 25, 2012 at 11:48 AM UTC
20 minuter av frihet känns det
den härliga, kyliga brisen är renande.
Små fåglar delar glädjen av en ny dag.
Solen småtittar genom träden som släpper
små löv som liknar snö.
Trädens vaggnade och vinden påminner mig
om havet. Det känns fridsamt,
Jag vill stanna kvar.
10 minuter kvar av frisk vind som blåser
genom mig, känns helande. Alla tankar
försvinner.
Jag vill stanna kvar.
5 minuter kvar av otrolig harmoni av
öppet sinne for skönhet och inget annat.
Av känslor som flödar genom mig, av att
vara en del av det hela, av att vara
älskad och uppleva detta med all sinnen öppna.
Tiden är ute men jag vill stanna kvar. Nostalgi
May 16, 2011
May 16, 2011 at 1:36 PM UTC
When a man meets a woman
there's some kind of spark
No time to lose, seize that chance
When a woman meets a man
There's some fire igniting in your very soul
What do you say to your lover?
I love you
Ti amo
Je t'aime
Ich liebe dich
Te Quiero
Jag älskar dig
Time passes for nobody but love itself
That blooming passion just stays there
All alone at a moment's notice
You never know what happens
unless you say
I love you
Ti amo
Je t'aime
Ich liebe dich
Te Quiero
Jag älskar dig
Cash that love check
Time's afleeting and you don't know what to say
turn back the clock
cupid's right there by your side waiting for you to
say those magical words
I love you
Ti amo
Je t'aime
Ich liebe dich
Te Quiero
Jag älskar dig
Tender spoken word of love
Just fazes you and takes that breath away
From your velvet lips
You just don't know when that moment passes by
Unless you say it out loud
to your family, your friends, random strangers and your lovers........
I love you
Ti amo
Je t'aime
Ich liebe dich
Te Quiero
Jag älskar dig
I love you
Ti amo
Je t'aime
Ich liebe dich
Te Quiero
Jag älskar dig
I love you..
I love you..
I love you.........
Steven B. Craig 08/05/2009
Nov 14, 2010
Nov 14, 2010 at 5:17 PM UTC
Du sa mer i tystnad än i orden
Du gav ett namn åt längtan
Inget håller dig bunden
Det var mer än vad jag nånsin gjorde
Tog det första steget, jag förstår det
Man kunde visst ändå,
I rädsla finna modet
Det var mer än vad jag nånsin gjorde
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
fromabove
itleaves
youbreath-
less:
suspended
on the
edges
of theknown
world aren't stars
cavingoutand
in
but rather:
tree
tops;
mountain
val - leys,
jag-
ged
cliffs
pegged.
eversoslightly
to the
earth
be-
low.
you.
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 9:51 AM UTC
Se hur tiden flyger
Se hur den tar dag efter dag
Ringarna i stammen växer
Jag lär väl vänja mig om ett tag
Solstänkta dagar fann vi
Långt bort från hem och hus
Vi besteg den klippiga kusten
Ingen kommer nånsin veta hur
Du nådde fram tillslut
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 2:22 PM UTC