"kru" poems
Kis pe kru bharosa ,
Na khud pe yakeen hai .
Manjil na mil paya ,
Or raahi bichar gaye
Is dagar pe chal ke ,
Aayi thi itne dur
Badi muskkat se
Par ki thi ye dastur
Har kar ruk gayi ,
Us manjil par,
Jhaha kabhi ham roj chala krate the ,
Aaj ye jindgi wahi ruki
Jisse ham dur rha krte the ....
Jiss pe karu brosa na khud pe yakin hai....
Rohini
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 4:00 AM UTC
Pyaar to kai trha k hote h
Mgr na jaane hmara ye ksa pyaar h
Pyaar k to kai naamo ko ME btadu
Magar smjh NH aata ki hmare is pyaar ko ME kya naam du
Jo kbhi hsata h to kbhi rulata h
Kabhi naraj krta h to kbhi mnata h
Or jb shk krta h to uske agle hi Pal khud se jyada ykin krne lgta h
Agr khuda b aa kr hmare is pyaar ko byaan krne ki koshish kre to shyd vo b nakamyab **
Kuki hmara pyaar vo nhi jo lfzo ME byaan **
Pta h mera dil bht ziddi h.. Hmesha ek hi zid krta h
Khta h ki vo tumse milna chahta h.
Tumhare kareeb hone ka ahsas mhsus krna chahta h
tumhari baaho ME jo sukoon milta h vo sukoon mhsus krna chahta h
Tmhari aakho ME aakhe daal k tumse bt krna chahta h
Tumhara haath thamna chahta h
Lekin me usko daat k chup kra deti hn
Mgr kya kru yr apne aasu rok NH paati hn
** ske to Mj cchor k kbhi mt jana
Kuki agr tum mj cchor k chle gye to me apni rooh ko NH smjha paungi ki ab b jism ME ruk jana
Agr Tmko mjse door jaana b pde to khud ko kbhi akela mt smjhna
Me US lmha tmhare aas paas hi hongi mj mhsus kr k dkhna
Hr Pal dr lgta h tmhe kho dene se
Mgr phr khudko smjhati hn ki is janam nhi to kya hua, agle janam kon rok skta h tmhe mera ** dene Se
Me nh janti ki hmara saath kb tk h
Mgr itna jaanti hn ki hmari rooh ek tb tk h suraj chand jb tk h..
Jun 22, 2020
Jun 22, 2020 at 11:37 AM UTC
* * *
don't complain of poverty -
hear, Egypt?
don't dare talk of poverty -
to me!
have a change of attitude -
hear, Egypt?
change your disposition
towards me!
and towards my sisters
in your cages -
palaces, apartments, houses, huts;
and towards my sisters -
with a bit more freedom -
how you view them
just a
piece of ****
mutilated wombs of this land's mothers;
mutilated feelings of cowed daughters;
mutilated, young and old,
for eons;
caged, inflated, broken, violated,--
___
don't you dare -
hint of poverty -
to me.
(c)kRu, 09.09.-17.09.2010
Feb 2, 2012
Feb 2, 2012 at 2:57 AM UTC
* * *
Interjections come bubbling down
To burst the mind.
Choral injections,
Humming injections -
Mean, mean, mean clowns:
Dancing madly in kaleidoscope gowns
They shamelessly grind
The last grains of my sanity.
The reality is quite snippetty -
And thus parallel worlds are designed.
Oh! - let me go, let me go!
To where Alice is Queen.
To where she sits
Among her kingly mirrors
And teaches the art of
Being seen
A trifle here and there,
And always - everywhere!
(c)kRu, 11.10.-17.11.2006
Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 1:10 AM UTC
* * *
Is a DJ - a "DJ", really?
Do we not operate in tunes?
We joggle with joy them and freely -
To ease our listeners' glooms.
Methinks -
We are ought to be "TJ"s.
For, truly, we pluck the Soul's strings.
And hearts care only for wings -
To fly with vibrations of music
And into their sanity fuse it.
(с)kRu, 11.12.2006 - 18.06.2007
Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 1:12 AM UTC
floral effervescence
wafts around you
thy theo black temperament rose iq
ushers lulabies as playful amor kru
apollo is falling for the aquamarine
rays, reflecting the sea's craved ardour
and our love is like a cyclamen oleandro
the fascinating, dissolving, poisonous sleep
inwardly unaware of the whitest clouds oro
seducing the beauty of a ceruelan absolute ~
if i were the wave i would foam your dream
if you were a black panther i'd be your kaa
for a day to experience your mighty paws
to tremble like open window shutters, strickened
by the fire, by light, by thunderbolt's love flame
oh, come on, come on sweet man of the fantasia
i've got to tell you i ain't foolin' around those dim
alleys at nights like this; luscious calls lure hello
at least, hear my hearts deepest throbbings, hear
them, embrace them, conquer my world's cream
taste the strawberry sweeteness on a tip of me, u
trickle your tongue against my open buoyancy
write kaligrafic words of love's invisible tint
beautify the untouched pergament, maestro
write like there's no time nor tomorrow's no;
inaugure every christmas crickets flash mob
within you and awaken me from a slumber,
deeply rooted, lovely and mild as wood's chi
and I will cherish you, praise and love long
forgotten wild forest's animals as panacea
for the dissolving salt upon a love wound
which torchered your solitude for who's
pleasure, for what reason, for a slick slap
of an epic trustful faith as lux aeterna
crashing the myth of a love superior;
a desolation of waning touches soma
hiding its fragility in madmind's attempt
to overcome what's earth's given inferno;
to die in a lustful blazing heat of creatio
contemplating about heavenly key lock
how to forge a golden key to your anima,
gracefully giving a hand to her emperor
to dance on a verge of an existence' folie
to blossom upon hushed world's meridian
in dreamy space n' time, first darlin' flush
the prime animus dances, dares, waters~
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 3:50 PM UTC
Your soft caress still haunts me night and day,
Like morning dew escapes a sleepy leaf...
Each time it fleets all reason goes astray,
And all the senses powerlessly heave
A sigh that brings about a torment sweet
And eases but in conversation when we meet...
(c)kRu, 13.12.2005 - 17.01.2006
Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 12:38 AM UTC
* * *
Fishing out words
From the abyss of hum -
Like Odin with the Runes...
Thoughts are sharp swords -
Unfriendly are their croons:
One instant - scattering like crumbs,
Another - warbling in tune
With mixed emotions
And elusive feelings...
Oh, how disheartening sometimes! -
Unveiling their peelings...
(c)kRu, 07.02.-09.02.06
Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 12:41 AM UTC
i am not in the mood to write...
my head is in piercing pain;
emotions are sore and haphazard;
resistance is doubling its might;
slain eyes are about to rain...
yes, my eyes have been slain -
like two lovers
by a jealous and envious third;
been rid of all chances
and glimpses -
so yenned for, like air -
of you...
they rain clear showers,
they rain crimson showers,
they flood all terrain and
shape rivers -
deep crimson-clear rivers of need,
they let my soul bleed
through their chambers...
i am not in the mood to write...
because - you've both hurt me like hell,
because - you've both played with my feelings;
because you care naught for my reelings...
i am not in the mood to write...
what did EVER i do to you?!
or, maybe, - you're simply a coward
for being a friend AND a lover?!
but that would be
artlessly easy...
or, maybe, i'm - simply - just blind?
i am not in the mood to write;
i am not in the mood to fight;
i am not in the mood for my goodness;
and for backstage-politics wooers...
(c)kRu, 03.07.-13.07.11
Feb 4, 2012
Feb 4, 2012 at 9:57 AM UTC
* * *
Wise owls stare
Into darkness, seeking Truth.
Long will be their watch.
(c)kRu, 21.01.06
Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 12:40 AM UTC
i am tired greatly
of this haughty country;
of its unfamiliar weird ways;
here -
children must be raised
towards bright riches,
and directed t'wards
predictable set phrases...
they make friends real fast,
but never stay too long;
their whole "friendship" notion
is askew
(is askew and eerily contagious):
they smile widely, saying,
"hey, i love you!" - every day;
they smile widely and persuade you,
"hey! you're awesome!" -
but those feelings end
just as they leave those bosoms.
but that haughty country
sure knows how to make life better
and
Predictable -
for everyone involved...
spare me, save me,
and release me and
relieve me
from its harrowing, morose, humongous strains,
from the fascination for its glories!..
from its incandescent,
flashy stardom;
from the titillation
of its "havens"!!..
(c)kRu, 05.08.11-04.11.11
* remake of an old poem written in 1995.
Feb 4, 2012
Feb 4, 2012 at 10:00 AM UTC
How can I get across how much I love you?
Am I too good, or are you bad for me?
Is this a lifelong class that we should take?
But I am sick of learning in my life!
I only want to love you, nothing more.
I only want to shower you with lust,
To fill you up with passion, joy, and trust,
So that you know - you have me to the core.
(с)kRu, 12.01.2004
Jan 29, 2010
Jan 29, 2010 at 10:40 AM UTC
you make me hyper-much
You make me hyper-much
so I can't breathe,
when you let me touch
and pull away to tease.
Say, does it feel good?
To get me in the mood?
How do you wish to be
with me to
get it on?
I'll do for you, just see -
I'll change and be new me...
And if you feel good,
I'll get in the mood.
Now all I need to do's...
not fantasize too hard
and chase you off me blues...
How's that for brand new start?
Oh, if it feels good,
I'll get in the mood.
(c)kRu, 29.08.-19.10.99
Jan 29, 2010
Jan 29, 2010 at 10:24 AM UTC
I am as Luthien unto ye -
My Love, She healeth thy wounds.
I walk, and I run, and I search for ye,
Beloved, my Only One;
And I am - your Only Sun.
Fierce and brave, I'll fight for ye
My spell - it wickedly croons
I swear three times my Oath to thee:
My Life is for you to take.
My Passion - for you to wake.
O!-let the Dread and the Dead come forth!
Our Love will strive and endure!
We walk, and we run, and we know no grief:
My Life is for you to take.
My Passion - for you to wake.
We will withstand - Help Us, Our Oath!
For sorrows we'll find a cure.
Together forever, though Time is brief,
Beloved, my Only One;
And I am - your Only Sun.
(c)kRu, 2002
Jan 29, 2010
Jan 29, 2010 at 10:26 AM UTC
* * *
in-depth realities
shift perspectives;
marching on the brain -
trampling all over, actually;
vague visions become engraved
into lambent incentives,
destroying eventualities.
(c)kRu, 21.02.2006
Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 1:04 AM UTC
There was a famed Missus in Amherst,
Who married three times in her home nest;
Her two Lords - ere the third -
Lay low deep in the dirt
And were probably cussing in earnest.
(c)kRu, 12.11.2011
Feb 4, 2012
Feb 4, 2012 at 10:06 AM UTC
you bite my toes -
that evokes
a wondering frenzy
that all of the
previous lovers
were (are)
just a bit (?)
selfish and lazy...
you tickle my feet
and all over a bit
and lap up
and lap up
and up my belly
and press foreheads
and my insides rally
for -
that there may be
more wondrous heedful lovers
who'd find
(or to look for?)
me -
quite possibly.
you softly grab
my leg in sleep,
and i almost weep
(hoping?)
realizing cautiously
that maybe,
just
may
be
there is merit in me
for an even more
wondrous and heedful
relationship -
whenever that
comes in free.
and i still feel
your spirit on me,
and hope
it will flee
as soon as
i cross the ocean -
safe in the notion
that none of us
really needs running...
(c)kRu, 07.11.(on the plane)-09.11.11
Feb 4, 2012
Feb 4, 2012 at 10:05 AM UTC
it's 10 a.m.
and i'm thinking apples and oats
i'm thinking apples and oatmeal
my attention gingerly floats
into my kitchen and into my meal
i sit and eat
a crunchable juicy
green apple
every bite is lucid
and every bite is ample
all the troubles melt on my tongue
all the trite things are out and gone
i cover the oat flakes
with boiling water
they widen and swell
each oat is a well
some butter for softnes
and then i feel my oats
and i know -
fussing is nonsence
(c)kRu, 25.04.04
Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 12:30 AM UTC
Why do, why do I still,
Why do I still start crying
When thoughts of my affection
Pop out of somewhere deep?
It seems I have no will
To stop this agonizing
Unsettling connection
That's got me in its grip.
And then your smile and your caress
creep into me,
and tenderness.
(c)kRu, 25.01.2004
Jan 29, 2010
Jan 29, 2010 at 10:44 AM UTC
you've left a scar so deep
it makes me wonder -
"what the ****
and "why"
and
"why the hell..." -
has it so deeply struck?
for -
you are NOT
Him;
and
never will be...
as
NO other lover
EVER will be.
but you...
have left...
the scar:
so deep - it hurts
from utmost far;
excluding everything
and notwithstanding tolls;
it's not genteel -
a curtain call
like that.
the heartache-bloodstained oars
still paddle that so-wobbly
boat;
whose are they? -
mine or yours?..
you've left the scar
so deep...
here - take it
back to
sort out
and to keep:
i've got...
no use...
for it!..
(c)kRu, 19.06.-27.06.11
Feb 4, 2012
Feb 4, 2012 at 9:55 AM UTC
Another day stirs me awake,
Before its dawn I'll travel far.
Clay path ahead, feet burning dead,
Days - short, nights - long. My friend - a star.
Essea is the name I bear,
For I'm a healer-elf; I share
Great wisdoms of the ancient worlds.
Her secrets Nature deftly hides -
I know paths where She them unfolds,
Jumping, her creatures at my sides.
Knowing my Past, I don't forget
Lothlorien, my only home,
My Mother and my Father - dead,
Now buried under wooden dome.
Over Dark Hills, alongside Men,
Praying for Light, they fought Dark Prince.
Quick death slew them at Sauron's den.
Rare words are spoken of them since...
Searching for Light, I travel wide,
Trees, Herbs, and Rivers help my quest.
Unseen to all, with gales I ride
Vast shores and lands from North to West,
Warring dark powers that may be.
Xylographs I carve, so that
Ye, my Beloved, only Ye,
Zealous for me, do find my path.
----
I have a way with Evil -
My love it should not wish.
Perverted and seduced, then dead
Dark things who taste it, be!
Frightened you are to learn this, -
You needn't be - for I
Present no danger to good folk -
You cannot cheat my eye.
(c)kRu, 2002
Jan 29, 2010
Jan 29, 2010 at 10:33 AM UTC
* * *
The "happy heart" is happy less and less.
Some Courage, please! - to start the search for Lights...
The Inner Child's discouraged and distressed;
No joy is there - only faintest wights.
So - "happy heart" keeps wandering aloft...
Afar somewhere with remnants of the rays;
And further up from sanity, astray.
(c)kRu, 24.06.-08.09.09
Jan 29, 2010
Jan 29, 2010 at 9:56 AM UTC
Would you like a piece of my mind?
It's got fragments of tellings and snippets of songs,
It's got barbarous fixes of music.
All of those crave some clever perusal.
Would you like a piece of my mind?
Would you like a piece of my soul?
There are passion and tenderness - desperate, begging -
To be healed and to finally flee
Into rivers and lakes and wild seas...
Would you like a piece of my soul?
Would you like a piece of my pain?
It would feel like a cognac injection,
It could be quite a picturesque trip:
Your emotions would tighten their grip
And let go when there's no more objections.
Would you like a piece of my pain?
Would you like to try on some of me?..
Though - it's doubtful you'd like how it feels.
(c)kRu, 12.10.-17.11.2006
Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 1:11 AM UTC
what bothers you, the frown?
accustomed to the clown?
oh, sorry to disrupt!
too bad - i am not apt
today to do the show,
there's too much, too much snow.
here - want to try the crown?
i'm done and stepping down.
(c)kRu, 22.01.04
Jan 29, 2010
Jan 29, 2010 at 10:43 AM UTC
what's rain to a city?
gloomy, gray drops
brutally gritting
in drizzle people's hopes.
its wetness is inimical,
its moistness - whimsical.
no sun, no, no happiness;
cold gales beget haplessness.
rain, Rain, rain!
wash away-away
disdain!
(never mind, never mind
pain...)
(c)kRu, 17.09.05
Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 12:34 AM UTC