"nye" poems
Udd jayegi ek din chiraiya chhodhkar babul ka ghar,
Basane ek naya aashiyana sabhi ke aankho ko bhar,
Vidai ka hota hai ye kaisi bela,
Kyu hamesha jana padta chhod us kali ko hi akela,
Beegh jati hai mata-pita ki palkein vidai ke pal,
Jab aata us baag me chahchahane wali chidiya ki judai ke pal,
Bahut si yaadein chhoti aankho me sajaye hue,
Ro rhi hai maa pari ko gale lagaye hue,
Papa ki pyari gudiya aaj sazkar sasural chali,
Tham ke hath humsafar ka ek nye dwar chali,
Jahan pali badi wo pyari gudiya chali hai aaj us ghar ko chhod,
Karke suna ek aangan ko pita ki aankhon ko bhar,
Na jaane kyu beti ko janam se hi paraya btaya ,
Aakhir kisne ye riwaz banaya ,
Nikalkar apne **** se ek pita apni jaan ,
Bahut bada dil hai ek pita ka jo kar dete hain kanyadaan ,
Waqt ka kaisa hai ye dastoor
Na jaane kyu ek beti ko jaana hota hai dur ,
Chali hai aaj papa ki gudiya ,
Chhodhkar apne aangan ki nindiya,
Yaadon ki jhadi dil mein basakar chali hai maa ki jaan ,
Chhod ke sabkuch apna Banane ek nayi pehchaan,
Babul ki laadli kab ** gayi badi,
Aayi hai dil ko chhune wali ghadi,
Jis ghar me pali,us ghar ko alwida kaise kahegi,
Maa baba behan bhai bin wo gudiya kaise rahegi,
Vidhata ne ye kaisa niyam hai banaya,
Chhod ghar babul ka,ek naye ghar ko basaya,
Dekh tyad ek bitiya ki us khuda ki bhi *** aankhen bhar,
Udd jayegi ek din chirraiya chhodkar babul ka ghar,
Babul ka ghar.........
Composed by
Sonia Paruthi & Shrivastva MK
Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 2:23 PM UTC
Whilst looking far o'r
long time spreading moor
Cloaked in daisies white
There shall likely be
Bloss'ming cherry tree
Grasping at your sight
Brushing silently by
As daisies qui'tly sigh
As wind moves in flight
Long time you sought
And hard you fought
Not reaching low boughs height
Till setting down
For sun is drowned
Settled for the night
Just before you drift away
Something beckons you to stay
A calling in the night
Yellow and white flow'r
Both of no great pow'r
Standing to no great height
Forbidden by blistering sun
They Bloom when day is done
Sending petal into flight
Finally draws your eye
From boughs never nye
Form'ly insignif'gant beauty in sight
First blooms Flow'r of moon
Eve'ning Primrose thereafter soon
The second of yellow the first of white
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 10:08 PM UTC
Roselva says the only thing that doesn't change
is train tracks. She's sure of it.
The train changes, or the weeds that grow up spidery
by the side, but not the tracks.
I've watched one for three years, she says,
and it doesn't curve, doesn't break, doesn't grow.
Peter isn't sure. He saw an abandoned track
near Sabinas, Mexico, and says a track without a train
is a changed track. The metal wasn't shiny anymore.
The wood was split and some of the ties were gone.
Every Tuesday on Morales Street
butchers crack the necks of a hundred hens.
The widow in the tilted house
spices her soup with cinnamon.
Ask her what doesn't change.
Stars explode.
The rose curls up as if there is fire in the petals.
The cat who knew me is buried under the bush.
The train whistle still wails its ancient sound
but when it goes away, shrinking back
from the walls of the brain,
it takes something different with it every time.
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 12:39 AM UTC
by
rgpage
in a latter year of my third decade
my twenty seventh to be sure.
i was young and strong, not bad on looks
still seeking my maiden pure.
in my earlier years i’d traveled the globe
the compass far and wide.
i went to war on foreign shores
for uncle sam, but not our nation’s pride.
viet nam took many lives
and ruined many more,
from the outset waiting my long
trip home i felt so insecure.
in those few years my way was nye
i traveled from bar to bed.
with whom not knowing nor caring why
to block the demons in my head.
i lived this way for six long years
not seeing life and life not seeing me.
anti-war riots and widow’s tears
a mother’s cry and father’s plea.
six empty years past the stench of war,
and a life now gone that i once knew.
a stranger then to all once loved
and friend to very few.
now looking back it was then i feel
God saw i had no worth
for this was when i first met you,
an angel come to earth.
it was then you came into focus
you were all that i could see.
you gave your love and took me in
and brought out the best in me.
now forty three years have passed since that day
you came into my life.
i still see you now w/ that young man’s eyes
when i took you for my wife.
Dec 2, 2011
Dec 2, 2011 at 11:53 AM UTC
*Let the stars fly away
and leave the moon shining,
With You and I dancing
under the light until morning,
Hear the music playing
to the tune of heartbeats
Spiral waltz into the atmosphere
in the circle of our heat.
Swing under the moonlight
and be lost in love’s delight,
Souls in unison, while shaking,
and twisting in the night,
Fantasy performed in the body
moving from side to side,
Magical pleasure the souvenirs
reminisce with pride.
Imagine the night where the moon
glows in a fountain
The tiniest lives from natures hive
paddle in the ripples,
Lift the mind into the songs
with a picturesque scene that dazzles
And you smile in that moment
to cast a wishful token,
With one look into faith
at dreams destiny create, unspoken
The amazing aura in which
our desire can participate,
Leaving moves in photos
to embrace the ambiance found.
Being romantic; the party stood
silhouette around,
Shadows swing from the walls
unto the dance floor,
You hear the sound but your body
cries out for more.
Into the moonlight
eyes blinded by heavenly bliss,
And the glittering stars appear
in the halo of a kiss.*
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 9:01 PM UTC
Pale and swift the moorings lie:
Roosting on the masts were nye.
Peculiar was the indigo
in the water's moonlit glow.
The ship was ailing through the night
casting wayward, staggered light.
And oceanic tides were bound
to throw the ship into the sound.
But though the water pulled and fought
the Phantom ship could not be caught;
The cargo stayed and sat to mull
well within the sturdy hull.
It was a most peculiar eve,
though the average won't perceive.
The queer and devient, however,
noticed that the sky forever
loomed with great intensity
with clouds as far as eyes could see.
What secrets held this murky water?
Burning mysteries, growing hotter?
I was there, I hope you know
I have a ship, my own, and so:
remembering that eve's deception,
I take my boat in that direction.
Standing now to face the sea,
deciding where and whom to be.
For pale and swift the moorings lie;
Roosting on the masts are nye.
Distinctive be that indigo
in the water's moonlit glow.
Yet ** My schooner dipp and quaff
And with that, I must be off.
Nov 6, 2012
Nov 6, 2012 at 7:17 PM UTC
Star Wars, X-Men
CoD, Pacific Rim
Lego brick, Ranger Rick
Graphic novel, the Tick
World War history
Model cars, chemistry
Nerf gun, Comicon
Myth Buster Byron
Extra credit, Cosplay
Risk, Chess, Anime
Billy Nye, ask why
You're the one, don't deny
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 12:53 AM UTC
I tripped and fell into temptation
The hole was exceptionally deep
The futher that I fell
the deeper I would sink
I built stairs
that were made up of all colors of lies
But the more that I made
the top was never nye
But the hole was much deeper
than all the stairways made to Heaven
I needed a friend to save me
one who converts sin into salvation
from bread that must be unleavened
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 2:51 AM UTC
As far as I can remember you’ve RAN my life,
From my father and mother and also Ex-wife,
We all have been your worthless slave,
Days we refused are the days we craved,
Desolation and destruction in your wake,
I’ve offered you my useless life to take,
As I fail to get my life on track,
I just shoot bigger loads of twack,
I’m as lost as the orphan boy in the woods,
I’m not remembered for doing much good,
Only wrongs and misplaced hate,
Had me wander into my fate,
I blame them all but not once me,
I blame them all one, two, and three,
So as I pointed out all their flaws,
I became immersed by your powerful jaws,
Your claws are sharp, long and pointy,
So where’s the right path can you please point me?
My direction is sporadic as my thoughts,
I knows there’s this one thing that I’ve been taught,
And that is never show weakness not in this game,
Or you may end up killed by what’s his name,
He burned you badly beyond repair,
Because you tread with little care,
I get that you were naïve,
But in my words you should believe,
I’ve been down this road my whole life through,
I beg that you won’t do these things that I do!,
I had a soul as my Fathers son,
And as my mothers youngest one,
I’ve watched these paths taken lightly,
The scenes I’ve seen aren’t all that sightly,
I’ve been young and as I grow old,
I started to learn to do as I’m told,
For if I hear those words nye,
Soon I’ll be the one to die!,
Im so lost, alone, and misunderstood,
Sorrily the high I get just isn’t that good!,
Good enough I think inside,
But it could be better if only I tried,
Tears and blood oh I have tasted,
But its nothing to the years I've seemingly wasted!
Dec 17, 2020
Dec 17, 2020 at 8:10 PM UTC
How could snowdrops be said
in the same poetic breathe as blue February?
But Anna has learnt
its best to trust her own instincts.
She never believed in canopies
foral invitations were never her thing
just the cold sun streaming
on her blind-side
strolling,
Nye nervously trembling
for the right inspiration.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 4:35 PM UTC
That frat boy’s
Bill Nye
Bowtie
Has got me thinking
Do kids these days
Even know who Bill Nye is?
Or **** Van ****
Or Andy Griffith?
Some of my heroes from way back when
Is Eli Wallach
Ever going to ride his horse
Steal corn from Mexican villages again?
Do kids these days even know food comes from the earth
Not from a can?
I can’t imagine growing up
Inside
Except to watch Bill Nye
The science guy
And play Oregon trail
Home alone
On Friday nights
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 3:54 PM UTC
den er ubrydelig med dens aluminiums indpakning
har fået gode anmeldelser og stærk opbakning,
skærmen lyser op som en håndfuld af stjerner
den er så intelligent med dens fire hjerner,
måneknapperne skinner,
ud i natten og forsvinder.
den har potentiale til at blive noget stort
potentiale til at vise vej når alt er sort,
svært gennemtrængelig og beskyttet med koder,
men når barrieren brydes overvældes man af goder,
for den er ikke blot endnu et moderne produkt,
som vil skubbe dig længere mod selvtugt.
-
DET ER DEN SAMME TRUMMERUM
DAG UD OG DAG IND, ALTID ET TOMRUM
ET PÅBEGYNDENDE DELIRIUM,
JEG BLIVER TÆNDT OG SLUKKET
KLAPPET SAMMEN OG LUKKET
VENTER BLOT PÅ AT STIKKET BLIVER TRUKKET,
SÅ JEG DAGEN EFTER KAN BLIVE STARTET,
TIL EN NY DAG, SOM ER ENSARTET,
JEG LADER FRUSTRATIONERNE SYNGE INDEN JEG FÅR SPARKET.
JEG BLEV SKABT AF EN GRUND, DER IKKE LÆNGERE EKSITERER
MÅLET VAR EN MASKINE, DER ALTID VILLE FUNGERE
MIN PROCESSOR KØRER PÅ HØJTRYK OG JEG ER TÆT PÅ AT EKSPLODERE,
MIN SOFTWARE ER FORÆLDET OG MIT HUKOMMELSESKORT ER FYLDT MED VIRUS
NYE PRODUKTER KØRER MIG RUNDT I MANEGEN OG JEG VIL IKKE MED I DET CIRKUS
JEG FRYGTER IKKE AT BLIVE SMIDT UD, JEG VILLE BETRAGTE DET SOM EN GESTUS,
LAD MIG NU MÆRKE JEG LEVER, FOR FØRSTE GANG,
LAD MINE HØJTALERE SPILLE DEN SIDSTE SANG,
FØR JEG BLIVER EN DEL AF DET, DER VAR ENGANG.
-
En maskine var jeg – en defekt er jeg blevet.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 8:07 PM UTC
Syrenernes store buketter af sprøde blomster springer ud og spreder en duft af sitrende lykke som jeg tager del af, når jeg kan overskue at smile og være mig selv.
Jeg sidder under det.
Og jeg ejer al den stilhed jeg gemmer på, som jeg kun tager med mig når jeg er alene i natten, på mine lange vandringsrejser i mine udtrådte gummisko, som minder mig om dig.
Når jeg fortæller mig selv at jeg tager mine tanker i at gå på afveje og drømme om den magt vi kan få af hele verden på markerne med de grønne stængler. Og at hvis man skruer tiden tilbage, så kan man lære at leve livet rigtigt. Hvis jeg nu havde givet mig selv lov, og havde sluppet mig selv fri.
Så kommer der blade på syrenernes grene, for jeg har siddet der i flere timer end jeg kan tælle på hænderne.
Og mærket mine følelser, selvom der er tusindvis og på trods af at de i hober går i krig mod hinanden, for at fortælle mig modsatte ting og at livet går videre.
Så jeg rejser mig op, og går videre mod nye velduftende blomster i et forsøg på at lære af min erindringer.
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 5:26 AM UTC
As girls dream, you'd think you'd meet your perfect boy somewhere between heaven and earth or probably just at a social gathering.
He'd be the boy under the spotlight shining brighter than sun itself or the one your friends would interduce you to each-other as the perfect fit and soon a love so easy at first sight would sparkle between your souls like you're really made for each other, for a sec it'd make you think you're celebrating NYE but this time the sparkles and the butterflies in your stomach are everlasting cause he is real and everything you could ever want.
But maybe you aren't attending the party and you will never notice the guy under the spotlight cause you never believed that it'd be so easy and always thought butterflies are overrated and sparkles way too magical and you would rather settle for temporary lust and not never ending love.
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 2:51 PM UTC
Jeg gemmer mig bag alt.
Her for tiden,
er det somom der intet forhæng er,
foran mig.
Jeg kan kun gemme mig
bag mennesker jeg elsker,
mange ting er ved at gå op for mig nu.
Tingene bliver seriøse.
Jeg bliver ældre,
uden min egen vilje.
Og så dog ja.
Jeg vil gerne blive ældre,
opleve verden,
møde nye artsfæller
og musik skal spille forbi mig i en ****
Jeg vil være lært.
Bekræftet.
Elsket, ikke af alle, men af nogen.
Men lige nu
er jeg ikke den jeg vil være, endu.
Lige nu skal jeg gemmes væk
fra det skæmmende og tænke frem.
Ikke være i nuet som alle andre.
Ikke kigge tilbage på de gamle billeder.
Kun frem. Kune frem. Kun frem.
Jeg er der snart.
Jeg består ikke det der ******
Men når lige at hoppe med
inden det kører fra mig,
mod det hvide, uklare lys.
Hent mig.
Fra dette skræmmende sted.
Læg dig ved siden af mig
og sig ingen lyd.
Kun dig og dit åndedræt,
har jeg brug for.
Kun dit nærvær.
Kun nærvær.
Nærvær.
Og gem mig væk.
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 7:06 AM UTC
Smooth down the next clean page
As you bid this chapter farewell.
The story of life isn't easy to write,
But there's still so much left to tell.
So, take a breath for composure,
And spend every moment this year
Creating a tale to leave readers in awe
And your grandkids bored-to-tears.
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 7:33 AM UTC
you see, i tell people at the mall, that i am cool
they say, no your not cool mate
you see i must be cool
i where a cool black jacket
and i wear socks with sandals
and i perform on youtube
and that, my friend makes me very cool
you i like watching football matches
and cheering on my favourite team
i like watching heavy metal on youtube
and i can sit and watch that all day, because i am cool
i like watching cool broadway shows on youtube
yeah, i must be cool because i go youtube and where wigs
and also funny clothing, people laugh at me,
but i don’t worry because i am cool
i watch cool families on youtube going about having fun
doing vlogs and blogs, and no matter where my life is
i still watch their vlogs and read their blogs, because i am cool
i might be in my 40s, but i am cool and enjoy life
i write my poems on hello poetry cause i am cool
and mate, geeks don’t do poems,
geeks sit down eating their dinner nicely and do everything proper
and i am too cool, to be a geek
you see i am mentally ill, but i can still be cool
because cool is a word to say, that i enjoy life
even when i feel like my heart is rushing
i also like going to NYE events, because i am cool
BE COOL, DUDES
Jul 19, 2016
Jul 19, 2016 at 2:36 AM UTC
En skide forretning jeg kun har sat fødderne i siden vi fik én Sodastream,
for regelmæssigt at købe nye smagsvarianter
De sælger blendere og glas at drikke af, batterier
og blinkende lyskæder når det er sæson for det
En røvsyg butik, der alligevel formår at vække noget i live dybt inde i mig
Det gipper i mig når jeg passerer deres butiksvinduer
Det tager al modet i mig at ture lade mine øjne lede efter dig bag kassen derinde
med din uniform på, i form af dine
selvvalgte adidasbukser og forpligtet sorte t-shirt
med logo trykt på ryggen
Forpulede ALSTRØM
Du er bare en fandens isenkræmmer der sælger lette hårde hvidevarer og diverse ting til husstanden
så hvorfor både frygter jeg for dig, skønt går en omvej i centeret bare for at krydse dig?
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 2:26 PM UTC
the reason why mr bean has problems
is he is a doofuss, top see the men ditched him because his nye party is
jus vinegar and tree twigs, how weird is that
the reason why the kids teased him at the pool
is because he was such a ****** making it all the way to the top
and then being scared nd climbing down
the reason why his girlfriend ditched him at xmas
is because instead of a ring, he gave her a picture of a man giving a woman a ring
and a hook and mr bean is a ****** because when he was
moving the hole in the wall, he didn’t ****** well check it
another thing that makes mr bean a ****** is the real world
you see at least i pay my way, mr bean is too much of a ****** to pay his way
and another thing that makes mr bean a ****** is at the putt putt golf course
he listened too much to the golf man as he followed the ball around town
i like mr bean teasing the men, but at the hotel there was truth in the matter
that teasers only win the battle, they never win the war because at the hotel
everyone was teasing poor old mr bean
and i liked him teasing the christian man in church, that was fun
mr bean was a ****** there, because he doesn’t look at it as teasing
his character has autism, and autistic people need to be watched
mind you mr bean was a TV character, but still, all guns blazing if we put him in the real world
he does remind me of myself, but i wasn’t that much of a ******
i was just a filthy kid, i am REFORMED OR BETTER TAKE YOUR PICK
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 4:16 AM UTC
drømmen om storbyslivet og drømmen om ****
mareridt om landsbylivet og mareridt om hvile
det var sådan jeg havde forestillet mig det
livet i byen versus livet i landet
min forestilling var korrekt i starten
nyt hjem, ny hverdag, nye bekendtskaber
jeg faldt på plads, jeg etablerede mig, jeg integrerede mig
jeg blev det menneske jeg ikke ville være
det menneske der altid er forjaget
det menneske der ikke har tid til at smile til folk på gaden
det menneske der ikke kan andet end at smalltalke
jeg blev det menneske jeg ikke ville være
endelig opdager jeg denne forvandling af mig selv
jeg husker, hvem jeg var engang
jeg husker de stille morgener, med den friske luft
jeg husker gåtur med mine forældres labrador
jeg husker roen
jeg husker smilene
jeg husker minder
jeg savner
jeg holder disse minder i live
jeg bliver mindet om dem ofte
specielt når jeg har de dårlige dage
når jeg så tilbringer tid med mine home-girls
da opdager jeg, at det er der jeg har gemt dem
alle minderne vi deler, alle minderne om drømmene
disse er splittet mellem personer fra landsbylivet
personer der kender mig fra mit gamle liv
disse personer søger jeg til på dårlige dage
for jeg blev det menneske jeg ikke ville være
nye bekendtskaber forsøger at forstå mine minder
og omvendt forsøger jeg at forstå deres
men det kan aldrig blive det samme
for vi har levet forskellige liv før vi mødtes
og forståelsen vil derfor aldrig være fuldendt
man kan snakke om her og nu begivenheder
og forsøge at skabe fælles minder
der kan snøre os sammen som et spindelvæv
eller et ekstra sikkerhedsnet
men nye bekendtskaber vil forevig og altid
minde mig om den jeg engang var og den jeg er blevet
for jeg er blevet det menneske jeg ikke ville være
(Marolle)
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 4:23 PM UTC
for blot få timer
siden dansede vi rundt
på bare fødder i vores
egen glædesrus
og følte os
hjemme hos
hinanden
alle sammen
alle 8 og
alt hvad der
hed kaotisk travlhed
og stress symptomer var
druknet
i afslappethed og glæden
ved at være
en smule rødvins-hovedpine
men hvad var det
når livet var så godt
og nu sidder jeg her og kan ikke
længere tælle til 8
men kun til 1 og det hele
er så tomt og stille
og spredt for alle
vinde
og selvom jeg har prøvet
det 10 gange
de sidste 7 år
så vænner jeg mig aldrig
til det med at sige
farvel og slippe det
så jeg lukker
øjnene
og tænker at hvis jeg bare presser
øjnene sammen længe nok
og tror nok på det så
er jeg ikke alene når
jeg åbner øjnene igen
men som så mange
gange før
bliver jeg skuffet
og så er det
at det går op for mig at
sommeren kommer
hurtigt
og den tager minderne
og nye oplevelser med
og vi vil skabe
ligeså værdifulde minder
om kaffe i solskin og cigaretter
på terassen i morgendis
så mens
jeg venter vil jeg lukke
øjnene og smile ved hvert et ord
og hvert et minde
se hver en bevægelse og høre
hver en stemme for mig og drikke
min mandags kaffe og
smile et smil der
oplyses af pulverstjerner
på himlen
og vide
at næste gang jeg lukker mine øjne
på en stille søndag nat
er jeg ikke alene når jeg åbner dem igen
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 6:18 PM UTC
jeg bevarede roen
lige indtil jeg river mine
nye nylonstrømper
på et rusten søm
husk dit pas og
husk din frakke
det kan være koldt
og måske vil det
regne men vi
ved det ikke så
husk også en paraply
jeg drukner i ord
om blå sygesikring
kommafejl og fejlagtige
billeder på snapchat
med misforståede ord
så jeg sætter mig
på tæppet
og er ligeglad
mens jeg ser mine
følelser gå
op i røg
og slukker
for min
kaos maksine
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 4:42 PM UTC
pretty crystals shone atop the stream
they so transfixed an observing eye
as the sun did reflect down its beam
was like being caught in a dream
beautiful shimmers of light seen to ply
pretty crystals shone atop the stream
jewels of nature above the water's ream
exhibiting such a captivating dye
as the sun did reflect down its beam
how lovely this bedazzling team
glistening with a bewitching spry
pretty crystals shone atop the stream
the play across the surface of a leam
which drew a mirroring focal spy
as the sun did reflect down its beam
to partake of an engaging gleam
bought wonder unto a viewer's nye
pretty crystals shone atop the stream
as the sun reflected down its beam
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 9:51 AM UTC