Finding love in an unattractive package
Feels as though love needs to resort to trickery
To satisfy the perverse need to be loved
But, also, to show that everyone needs love
Long losts to almost have
Each attraction star struck and devoted
If there is none
Then there never was and keep moving
Unattractive or not
Love finds a way

cc111711

I do still remember, our walk,
  In every morning and evening,
How very winded path, together we have decided,
  Keeping our hand to hand of each other,
    Having an embarrassment in together,
Two fresh mind was roaming freely in the air.

How lovely, was my childhood,
     filled with the memories of loves and brabbles,
But, why do I love you, in my memories-- so immense?
   and why do I still wonder,
That I've lost you forever?

Why the childhood love always losts,
      by the increasing age?
why the list of my losing is getting so longer,
     And oh! For that I really wonder.

Something must have been changed,
          either me or you,
Or may even the time,
But, for that why our love spotted with grime?

We even don't know today, where we are now?
  But on your that sorrow,
I had my part also!

In this running life, in an inch of place,
You will never find me again,
And I even may won't search for you, once again!

You are may be doing well.....
      and I'm not also bad!
Yet, in the core of my heart,
You are always remembered.
And sometimes, I still wonder,
    How I lost you forever?

               __ Sougat Dasgupta.

Life! 
Nothing but a walking shadow 
partial and wicked with irregularities like the meadows 
Pains like a needle in wounds
And non soothing like sounds of no consolation
What is pain other than our lives
What is wound rather than the tears we shed 
We may live like this for long 
But There's a pause called victory
Like an oasis is differentiate desert from farmland 
Hunger from satisfaction 
Fruitful from barren
Lack from surplus
A cheap consolation satisfying our expired need and unchanging greed and desire 

Life! It is full of miseries like a pack of card with only aces
It takes trillion years to understand the prelude 
Another billion years to comprehend the interlude 
Years and years roaming on the crossroad of mind
Can't solve the deep puzzle in the drama of life
Is it crossword of our aspirations or destiny?
Or jigsaws of our thoughts,ideas,concept and prospects?
The things we shall never know that is within us 
Our strengths and weaknesses
Our ups and downs 
Our victories and failures
Our inabilities and abilities
Our losts and profits
Our tears and laughter 
Our frown and smiles
Even actions and things we portray 
we are ignorant of these in the game of life, defeat may be a consolation 
Success may be a Greek gift 
Flaws we never create
Dreams we never create 
Still revolve around us 
Like we are casts in a movie 
And the script already written
Ours is to act 
'Not minding if it's tragedy or comedy' 
Like pinnochio and the host of the Disney
Our mind have been trained to forecast for seasons
But if we try to live other than it
that's treason 
That's why people suffer
others feasting 




@holythugbaba

(20 minute poetry)


Misery
all about me,
signs of misery
it
must be Tuesday
cheers.

Lost in a long list of losts
I make a longer list of things
to be done
but
I run from the memory
only to bump into misery
down
on the underground line.
cheers.

one day closer to being no nearer
what do we do it for?

we do it anyway
every day
and some say
Tuesday bears none of
the blame,
all the same it's still ****** misery
stuck here with the memory
of Summer
that's still yet to be.

I know it's early to judge
but this lifetime seems to be
the one
where I get to meet all the past loves
                                                 losts foes
in once and all, it's like a
curtain call
one walks in, we clap
              next!
wait I didn't quite-
              next!
        repeat that please I'm not over yet

there must've been a story
and behind each, many
but I fell asleep and I forgot
       for me it's this one night
                                  one night only
plot? only bows and poses
and when I'm lucky, a brief glimpse
of what could have been
         can be seen behind the red velvet

I throw roses, try to catch a glance
                                                a home
anything but a dead end
but it's not meant to be, no room for
not this time around

                        "partner in crime"
                                      "twin flames"
all or nothing, told the Playbill
I miss you i miss you you you all still
                              "best friend"
                "soulmates"
yesterday left the last train for closure
need to wait two light years more for our future
for the price of you all it all just
                                            breaks               "This must be fate"
                    "I get you"
                         and the play is through
            I know we've done this before

cheers!
the last bow leads to a
roaring applause
     I get my heart signed after the show
          it too plays its part
          knows it's not enough
and I too know,  I know
                                              lights out        
    end this round I want to go home

...It always seems...
            that we come to
               beginning at the end…


I disagree
              we are at a table.

Technically at a table
      but more al fresco
                              than inside...

I do not  agree  
                      with your
                                   misuse  of metaphor.

What a surprise...
                       To  understand inside
                                                       on must understand outside...


No you miss-understand!
          Please stop drinking
          you are a waterfall in reverse
pouring liqueur down
          the pettiness of your throat.
Oh! you spilled again…..

… Gin...i think its more
           likely libation
than your crocodile tears
           splashing like thorns on our salty dinner table...

You treat our wedlock
like pinata
and keep on swinging  

<lifting a glass of sherry>
...the mermaids are singing
the crickets are  chirping
can i  join in the luminous tunes
under moonscape & street lamps...
  i  am not sure if the
narrator or the voice
  of our disconnect,
is just a  ***** or an effaced  harpy ...

Monologuing  are we?

    That was always your problem….

No i was hoping for a liqueur
& well-lit soliloquy
unfortunately
you hearing is
too good & your plates is
too clean.
Never trust a skinny noun
for a lover...

                                              Your using the wrong fork….

No fears,
           as my empty
            overturned glasses
                               tremble around us
                               like our nonexistent children.
          Impossibilities
                 that  haunt the spaces of our words
                 like overcooked spaghetti  
...here too our invisible similes
at our
        evening repast...

                                        No worries
                                                        I was written that way
                                                                                         and you are a miserable lush.

indeed….
not on the menu
but our relationship
is a taco
with not enough lettuce…



I would say there are
                              losts of green words
                              missing  between us
                                                 and echo of your ego
                                                  swims in the whiskey.

the beauty of a glass  
             is its final emptiness;
the difference between          
lust and lush is just  one letter.
              you my dear  
             never lets the letters
            of your alphabets
free to flap

to the porch lights
                  
              except for a price...


It   might  just be the
                             spaces between
                                                   stars and ignorance of moths.
Your ignorance
                        always steals the narrative
                                                                  in my fortune cookie.


  no desert tonight i guess.
i hate this  mistaken table …..

Misspoken...you mean
miserable table!!!

your reflection my dear
will always reflect
            in waxy wood rings….
           returning to where
we first met
making one
            want to drink
            deeply the forgetful draught
                                          from the Styx
                                          my cold little-sphinx.

Is it your eyes that caught my heart?
Or is it the way that you smile, when our conversation starts?
Is it the way that you move and sway?
Or is it the moments where you complete my day?

Is it your childish mind, that losts tract of time?
Or is it my urge to want you to be mine?
Is it the way how your face says Hi?
Through adversity, that look never dies.

There are many things that i remember,
From the unexplainable thing to these minute details.
From how you flip your gorgeous hair,
Or how you love to connect to life with stories to share.

I am humbled to be in your presence,
You give meaning to things that does not make sense.
Like how you made sense to my nonsense being,
Oh, I am so glad for all the things that you are doing.

Times pass by, yet it seems too slow,
We have known each other not too long ago.
Yet it feels like we are old friends,
And you know what this will not end.

I remember you in every morning, with each sun rays,
And these moments I will keep, until that very day.
Where you and I will meet again,
Because in my future you will forever remain.

you know something is changed
i used to read you like a book
but now you are like a lost character
kind of lost kind of aloof
you had it all the ingeniousness ,the badness
maturity and the recklessness
but you know its losts on its way
people change ohh! mademoiselle i know they
but you , you are squandered in this evil world
but you are the favorite character of my favorite book which i read perpetually the character thats being missing its laughter they say it was the best countenance ,but it somehow lost its enchantment.
now days go by when that smile doesn't make its way to the surface ,its somewhere there but hidden beneath a veener ,a veener of melancholy
I know somethings change because
i used to read you like a book

they cancel each other out
exchanging fear for fear to be
battering wants for wants at the bazaars
of the weak
and the inadequate insecure
looking to belong in cohorts with ***** salts
these orphans o the moral less and the blinded
they say they are cancelling me
yes in blameless decency I become a foe
to be canceled by the cancel culture of witless losts
well, some tell them
you blunt pawns are the ones with the losses
what  graces you, I wonder, that I lack or hanker after
what about you beholds worthiness, pride or honor
whereas you see so much of my qualities
shrine in noble fares, the solid character of renowned note  
the real human you can never be with achievements
ever unattainable by knaves and wasters and simpletons
so mired in envy, jealousy and resentment
your asinine ploy called for ******* solution
you punish each other by denying yourselves
the pleasure and perfect grace that is me
but, did I grumble, did I lay down and die
its your losses as clear as day
I still live and fare me well
for you do nowt but cancel yourselves
deny the happiness of those who would have benefitted
who would have climbed and been made better versions
and in turn have made others better
so go read it again
while cancelling yourselves out
there's nothing like good breeding
go eat your hearts out, Cancelers.....

Snowfall sunyata
Nothing lasts forever

But O! my losts and loves
The times ah! true together.