"lav" poems
MAI BAHV SUCHI UN BHAVO KI
JO BIKE SADDA HI BIN TOLE
TANHAI HU HAR US KHAT KI JO
JO PADHA GYA HAI BIN KHOLE
HAR AANSU KO HAR PATTHAR TAK
PAHUNCHANE KI LACHAR HUK
MAI SAHAJ ARTH UN SABDO KA
JO SUNE GYE HAI BIN BOLE
JO KABI NAHI BARSA KHUL KAR
HAR US BADA L KA PANI HU
LAV-KUSH KI TEER BINA GAYE
SITA KIA RAM KAHANI HU
MAI BHAV SUCHI UN BHAVO KI.
............
KI JINKE SAPNO KE TAJ MAHAL
BAN NE SE PAHLE TUT GAYE
JI HAATHO ME DO HAATH KABHI
AANE SE PAHLE CHUT GYE
DHARTI PAR JINKE KHONE AUR
PAANE KI AJAB KAHANI HAI
KISHMAT KI DEVI MAAN GYE
PAR PRANAY DEVETA RUTH GYE
MAI MAILI CHADAR WALE US
KABIRA KI AMRIT VANI HU
LAV-KUSH KI TEER BINA GAYE
SITA KKI RAM KAHANI HU
KUCH KAHTE HAI MAI SEEKHA HU
APNE JAKHMO KO KHUDSEE KAR
KUCH JAAN GYE MAI HASHTA HU
BHEETAR BHEETAR ANSU PEEKAR
KUCH KAHTE HAI MAI HU VIRODH SE
UPJI EK KHUDAAR VIJAY
KUCH KAHTE HAI MAI MARTA HU
KHUD ME JEEKAR KHUD ME MARKAR
LEKIN MAI HAR CHATURI KI
SOCHI SAMJHI NADANI HU
LAV-KUSH KI TEER BINA GAYE
SITA KI RAM KAHANI HU...
WRITTEN BY :::::: SHASHANK KUMAR DWIVEDI
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 8:11 AM UTC
Mai bhav suchi un bhavo ki
jo bike sada hi bin tole
Tanhai hu har us khat ki
jo padha gya h bin khole..
Har aanshu ko har patthar tak
pahuchane ki laachar huk
Mai sahaj arth un sabdo ka
jo sune gye h bin bole..
Jo kabhi nahi barsha khul kar
har uss badal ka paani hu
Lav-Kush ki teer bina gaye
Sita ki Ram kahani hu..
Ki jinke sapno ke Taj -Mahal
ban ne se pahle tut gaye
Jin haatho me do haath kabhi
aane se pahle chut gaye
Dharti par jinke khone aur
paane ki ajab kahani h
Kishmat ki devi maan gye
par pranay devta ruth gaye..
Mai maili chadar wale uss
Kabira ki amrit vaani hu
Lav-Kush ki teer bina gaye
Sita ki raam kahani hu..
Kuch kahte hai mai sikha hu
apne jakhmo ko khud see kar
Kuch jaan gaye mai hashta hu
bhitar bhitar aanshu peekar..
Kuch kahte hai mai virodh se
uppji ek khuddar vijay
Kuch kahte hai mai marta hu
khud me jeekar khud me markar..
Leekin mai har chaturai ki
sochi samjhi naadani hu
Lav-Kush ki teer bina gaye
Sita ki Ram kahani hu
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 8:23 AM UTC
Aniversari ng Mag-jowa
Mansari ng Mag-jowa,
Valentayns Dey
Sa loob ng bartolina.
May wan en onli,
Kahapon kaututan ko si Bebot,
Nakaposas ang mga kamay at 'di makakilos
Nakatali ang mga paa sa kadenang
May bolang bakal,
Si Bebot ay matitigok na.
Nagkaututan kami sa gawing madilim,
Tangan ang Gud Morning,
Pamunas ng luha.
Humahagulhol dahil kay Dok Puti,
Hinahanda na nito
Ang kanyang kahahantungan,
Said na said ang mga hikbi;
Pinid na pinid ang mga kagalakan,
Gustong pahintuin ang bawat saglit.
Di mapigil ang hatol,
Nasa dulo ng karayom
Nakasalalay ang lahat;
Unti-unting naniningkit si Bebot,
Ginagapos na siya ni Dok Puti sa katre;
Walang sinuman ang makakaampat
Sa naturang likido.
Kahapon, kaututan ni Dok Puti si Bebot.
"Lav, sapitin mo nawa ang iyong katahimikan."
Sa Valentayns Dey,
kahit sinong mag-jowa.
- Juan Dela Cruz, M.D.
P.S.
Alay sa bawat magkasintahang pinagtagpo't
pinaglayo ng pagkakataon.
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 9:06 AM UTC
I'm twenty seven years old
Not, old by any standard
But, in my world...I'm seven
Seven years removed from an IED
Seven years away from the day that changed me
Seven years into my new life
We were on a routine mission
If you can call anything in Khandahar
routine
Convoy escort, some press folks
A country singer and his band
And us....always us
We were Military Police
Bringing 'em in, taking 'em home
there we were,
Same trip, same road
same barren landscape
same potholes
same, same, same
Until November 4th, 2005
Nothing has been the same since then
I'm a Sargeant, Military Police
William Blankenship
Fort Hood, Texas...just a kid...until
We were on Operation Squire
routine....all routine
The first humvee hit an IED
flipped right in front of us
the bus of civilians, stopped
radio chatter like mad
Rocket fire took out the Stryker LAV
Blew it to bits
No survivors
We were pinned down
We didn't return fire
Couldn't....didn't know where to
And had to get the civilians to safety
We were only 2 miles from base
LAVs were on the road immediately
I don't remember much about it
Just, that it was routine
Started with the headaches
took about a month
Then, the nightmares
Sent me back home to get over it
To a Veterans Hospital in Texas
Still saw the humvee flip
Heard the screams
Saw the fire, and watched the explosion behind
And I wasn't sleeping anymore
Couldn't handle bright lights for a time
Still can't, but not as bad
Doctors said it was PTSD
I said, "you think?"
What else could it be
Two years they kept me in there
Two years I saw them die
Then...they hooked me up with a service dog
New program they said
He'd keep me relaxed
I couldn't take care of myself
And now, they want me to have a dog
I said, I'd try it...but no guarantees
Said his name was Squire
funny....I knew that name from somewhere
But, couldn't remember where
Big, oafish, Newf he was
Like a small fridge with hair
And big, brown eyes
Squire....
First day he just sat and looked at me
Waited until I started to move
And he moved with me
Came over, and pushed his head under my hand
It's been that way ever since
I move, he moves
I eat, he eats three times as much
We bonded pretty quick
I still get the dreams,
but, Squire knows and he's there
Under my hand, calming me down
That's all he does, calms me down
He doesn't take away the dreams
But, he helps
I don't know how
But, he helps
They still die, and I still scream
But, not as often
Just routine....
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 4:29 PM UTC
xo
A year passed, I still like you.
And I know deep in myself that I have loved you.
Although, it's hard for me to keep holding back,
Pretending not to be clingy in any act.
Twice, we've seen each other;
Longing my heart for another.
But there's really no sparks ongoing,
I guess I should stop hoping.
This sensation keeps on coming back,
Ending this is what I really lack.
I am so helpless forgetting about you,
Hence, my heart breaks waiting for cue.
About you is what I don't understand, Having a cold heart is what in your hand. Wishing you were here is all my aspiration, But giving me heartaches in this infatuation.
xo,
Angel Lav
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 11:34 AM UTC
Pay attention everyone said Lilliput
I have an important announcement
We're going to have a wonderful picnic
For our family on Thursday , poppits only
The groans were heard all over the palace
Are we riding there , asked Horsey Anne
No we jolly well are not
And you scrum half Zara , are not either
We're motorcading it , without staff
Another really loud royal moan
We are each taking everything we need
And that includes you ex pork of York
'OOHH NNOO' she gurgly grunted
Less of that , and NO toe suckers allowed
Nor arrive in a kiddies helicopter either
And you Wills missus more clothing
You make my blue blood run cold
Next Thursday then , you picnickers
What have you brought asked Lilliput
Silver knives and forks hoarsed Anne
Paper plates grunted Flossy Fergie
Plastic cups , whimpered Wills missus
Lav paper for tissues, gidded up Zara
Big tablecloth bellowed Camilla
Have none of you brought food said Lilliput
'NO' they all mardily whinnied
None of us even thought about it
And you mumsy H.R.H. what have you brought
'NOBODY questions me , you pipsqueaks
LET'S ALL GO HOME NOW !
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 2:53 AM UTC
scrawled on public lav wall
expression of desire
meet for cockfun
bring own lubricant
hateful avarice
petty meanness
**** OFF FATFACE
Good, innit?
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 9:59 AM UTC
Balancen er daglig mellem om vi efterlader et hul i den tid vi har fået os, eller om tidens dyne er lappet fra højre og venstre med oplevelser af træhuler med meterlange lyskæder og lidt for meget indomita vin en ydmyg tirsdag aften. Er der en ting jeg ved, så er det at vi ikke selv bestemmer start - og sluttidspunkter, og **** altså vi bestemmer nok heller ikke selv hvilke dage solen skal glo lidt på os, fordi den synes vi er smukke. Det er der en gud eller en tilfældighed eller en kærlighed eller måske min uvidenhed til at afgøre. Men jeg ved en ting, som forlyder således; din tid er til din disponering. Det er den gave tiden har givet dig, nu hvor den har dårlig samvittighed over at den er begrænset. Du vælger selv for fanden, og du vælger dagligt. Hver dag, hele tiden. Så vælg det som er godt for dig. Kys dem du vil, fordi du for helvede fik for meget vin og elsker dem en lille smule det øjeblik. Lav den opgave om moskusokse i nordnorge, fordi viljen til fuldførelse gavner mere end du overhovedet aner. Skriv det læserbrev, fordi der skal gøres noget ved det problem og du har lysten til udførelsen af initiativet. Du kender dig og jeg kender mig, og tiden kan sku godt bruges på en velunderrettet og skøn, skøn, skøn måde samtidig. Så brug din tid, så du gør godt for smukke du.
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 5:43 PM UTC
Jeg var så lykkelig, og du var så lykkelig, og vi var så glade og lykkelige i øjeblikket. Vi var så forelskede den aften at byen bare hang som et maleri bag os. Du talte med en lav stemme, der fik højlydte grin ud ad mig, og så råbte vi et par gange at folk så smukke ud. Jeg tror at vi udgjorde et flot par der i mørket ved siden af neonlysene i søerne. Du sagde at du elskede mig fra Alaska og tilbage, og jeg svarede at du var skør. Du kastede dit hovede tilbage og smilte til hvad der lignede himlen, og så tog vi metroen fra Frederiksberg til Nørreport og løb til Marstalsgade med en rosé vi havde lånt af kiosken. Ad den smalle gade kiggede på høje bygninger og lod som om de alle var Eiffeltårnet. Vi kiggede ind ad folks små vinduer, og så de liv som jo foregår bag mure af beton. Et par som skændtes, og vi svor at det aldrig skulle være os. En far der lagde sin datter til at sove i en drømmeseng, som fik tårer frem i mine øjne. Du spurgte hvorfor jeg græd på en fredag aften, og jeg fortalte dig om min far som var forskruet og fanget i en billedramme på en villavej. Så kyssede du mig og sagde at mennesker bliver skøre af at leve i billedrammer. At de før eller siden knækker glasset, fordi at alt ilten forsvinder. Vi ville aldrig leve i en billedramme. Vi var de typer som man ville se på storskærm over Rådhuspladsen. Røde neonlys over alle menneskerne i billedrammer. Vi sov i min lejlighed på gulvet, fordi at sengen var for mennesker i billedrammer og vi var jo neonlys i forhold til de glødepærer. Og da vi vågnede, kiggede du på mig som om alt ilten var forsvundet ud ad rummet. Undskyldende over at have trukket vejret for dybt. Jeg forstod det ikke, men du fortrød mig lidt tror jeg. Du fortalte at du skulle hjem, hvor du derefter kindkyssede mig og forsvandt ud ad entreen. Du var ikke forelsket i mig trods gode kys og neonlys. Jeg var lidt ked af at jeg nåede at forelske mig i løbet af en nat.
Men hey det var jo ikke din skyld. Det er jo hvad der sker, når man drikker hvidvin på tom mave.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 10:53 AM UTC
the stockings were hung
then unstrung
the gifts wrapped
then opened and scrapped
eyes open wide, at gifts given with pride
forgive us dear lord for the little white lies
I adore it, no it won't leave my side
*Where can we find a place for,
this monstrosity to hide*
The church bells were rung
the carols sung,
All the while thing of the traveling miles
for the holiday away in the summer sun
Dinner was baked bbqed and burped
Wine was drunk, now Uncle Albert
is dancing, just shy of naked
drunk as a skunk, Aunt Em in the throes
of the holiday funk....has declared her new teeth
have been sunk into the trilfle....of which she is
elbows in, having a rifle, through
Dad's mid nap, and we are counting down the seconds
between each snore, Mum still asking any one for any more pav
And Malcom has dissapeared to the lav
and this is the Christmas, that we have had,
and tho it sounds dorky....I am a wee bit glad....
Tommorow we box ourselves in the car
travelling, travelling o so far
and back to the bickering, backstabbing and fights
but we practise peace to all men at Christmas
as is our right....
but with da and his snoring,
we have no chance of a silent night.
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC
Tallerken, gaffel, glas og krus.
Gryder, pande, høj og lav.
Køleskabet min bedsteven.
Ovn, vask og ske.
Rindende vand og plaster på såret.
Skærebræt og store knive.
Blod på bordet, blod på salaten.
Et højt irriteret brøl.
Tekopper, kaffekopper, grimme kopper, flotte kopper.
Skåle og dybetallerkner.
Vandkander, brødkrummer og forgamle rester.
Morgen, aften, nat og dag.
Altid og aldrig.
“tøm skraldespanden inden du går!”
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 5:36 AM UTC
Der er områder af mig der ikke er menneskelige.
Statisk elektricitet som jeg udånder gennem min munds korridor.
Mine fingerspidser er blå, og jeg kan ikke mærke DIG.
Jeg er alt for lav og jeg kan ikke nå dig.
Min katastrofebevidsthed er skrækkeligt fin og træder jeg forkert,
er det ****
I mistillid frygter jeg et væsen der dukker op og kvæler mig.
At du forstøver uden at skrige mit navn.
Én enkelt gang.
For verden.
Der er ingen der må se os.
Uden værn.
Jeg drømmer om en kognition.
En kulminering af ærlighed, der får verden til at falde sammen.
Ét øjeblik der slipper lyset ind.
Hvor fortiden flyder.
Vi skal aldrig mere falde
Vi lander på fødderne.
Et ukendt humør passerer min hjerne i takt med, at vi rammer jorden.
I et sindssygt øjeblik af ærlighed.
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 3:58 PM UTC
Post-Summer, still sunny
There's too many humans here,
he said
entering the pub, drunk withal
loudly talking about his kids
and whatnot
quite that many humans on his own
The girl next seems unfussed,
continues with
laptop and Guinness. Me, I
just popped in for a little
wine actually
or rather to use the lav
making the most of it as one does
trying to calm my mind as
I do
The food looks so lovely but
I don't allow me a little pick-me-
up I
wonder about the outsides,
forget about my new Didion,
always easily
distracted, by his cologne
and more and more plates,
smells lovely
To be able enjoy the moment
the paper feels beautiful
and I
really tried on too many clothes
today yet the sea helped
a lot
Tempted to couch and binge never-endingly
first one needs to get going
alright yah
Tempted for another glass still
first one needs to keep
the head from spinning
the fridge from empty
the shopping from a
yellow sticker hunt
The world's full of useless
purposeful days, come to think
of it.
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 7:31 AM UTC
as jerry's
belligerent brung
his ***
to harry
her cheat
she sat
there in
lav and
really acted
amazed and
with her
blazon chest
that she
showed upstairs
was prime
of her
life now
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 6:50 AM UTC
her name
it always came back to her beautiful ******* name
want to know how to make me truly happy for a moment?
say her name.
then watch as the hope from my face drops as quickly as it came
as I turn away blinking back petty tears
then cease to even look at you for the rest of the day
and barely engage in conversation for the rest of the week
not to mention the multiple bandages that appear along my arms and legs and stomach
her smile
I never saw it
after all we never sent each other pictures
just two kids talking across the world from each other
one trying to save the other
not knowing yet why anyone would dare cut their skin on purpose:
me
the one resisting to be saved:
her
trying not to put all her problems on me
knowing I was stupid enough to believe an 'I'm fine.'
sometimes smiling however at my lame jokes
and as I began to say
I never saw it
but I felt it
I felt it coming all the way from wherever she lived
it could have been down the road for all I know, we don't talk to our neighbours much
but even if she was living in Australia
I felt her smile
her voice
I never heard it
but I knew what it sounded like
deep
but smooth like honey
comforting and sweet
the best sound in the world
the only reason I could fall asleep at night
her gay posts on G+
the place we met
the place where I learned
she was gay as heck
the place I learned
I was bi as heck
the place she gave me a nickname
It had been a nice thing to do when you were young,
sending kiss emojis to your friends.
She took this as a romantic gesture
yet knew that when I did it, it was for fun.
She called me 'Frenchy'.
as in french kissing
except we said it was short for something else
'French fries', the American way of saying 'chips'
I found it fun
I called her 'Lavender'
Because I love the smell of it
I love the name
it helps me fall asleep still
plus
I could call her 'Lav' for short
which sounds like 'Love' if you think about it
I didn't mean it in any way like that though
Not at the time.
There were many things she said to me
that I will keep forever
locked away in the deep dungeons of my heart
never to be exposed
for fear someone might know too much
no friends for me, thank you. no one could be like KC.
However there is one thing I would like to share.
I posted a picture because I liked it's background.
It's quote meant nothing to me
at the time
It said
'I just want someone to hold me and tell me I'm not as worthless as I think I am.'
Only one comment.
From KC.
From Lavender.
She said
"You're not worthless Frenchy, you're priceless."
I,
being the way I was at the time,
replied with a
"Thanks Lavender, you too
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC