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BAT Kahnert Aug 2015
For Others:
U nbelievable knowledge
N ew experiences
I nsightful courses
V arious people
E ntertaining places
R elaxing environment
S pontaneous parties
I nteresting theories
T otally worth it
Y our new life

For Me:
U nbelievable stress
N ew finances
I nsightful worries
V arious fears
E ntertaining breakdowns
R elaxing insanity
S pontaneous meltdowns
I nteresting pills
T otally crazy
Y our new hell
Ottar Oct 2013
People walk. they drive, talk is cheap
                                                  like some Red Wine by the gallon my dad bought, often
                 he was not a nice man to most, what they could not change, they overlooked.
Overnight when the sun rises things,
                                                         ­ will have changed as much as they stay the, same,
            it will rain somewhere, and as many tear drops will fall from eyes of those with
            broken hearts, and those eyes if you looked in them, you would never forget, ever.

Ever sit there on the dewy grass at night or in some Adirondack,
                                     chair, actually in the Adirondacks, and just want to shrink and be small
                                     enough to disappear and travel at the speed of light, with out getting
                                     tangled, under the stars, in string theory.
  
Totally impossible you think and that may be where all of our problems start, we dwell on the
                            impossible when the possible is one small step away from you until you get so
                                   close, the impossible becomes I'm possible, I'm possible, repeat and repeat.

Riches, little can be so varied, there are some common ones, money, jewelry, stock portfolio,
                         there are so many tangible and all most intangible, love, joy, goodness, kindness,
                         gratitude, notice no mention of war, violence, death enough of that out there, they
                         are devalued right now, yes, yes they are yes.    

Y*ou are the best advocate of change I ever met, start with a *small, stay close to your heart and close to home, write poetry, take care of yourself and when you find the ONE, take care of each other, there is power in right relationships, now if you have found the ONE, teach your children too, end your day with a laugh and smile, but be alone as little as you need to, teach peace.
Have had a rough year,
or two would rather cry
                 mop up tears
with a sponge type words
that peel the skin off,
          go ahead scoff,
that put my memories
permanently visible,
                      edible,
lacking the confidence
I once had, soldier
trained, now drained,
struggle with
physical tough stuff,
but I go and I go,
mental stuff,
never felt so stupid
in all my days,
then,
then,
I get a call,
speaker is
sick and a Forum has
to change
the program,
and they want to use
POETRY
with
depression
and stigma,
and include
one of mine, read on hellopoetry,
the tears fall with
happy smiles on each
all the while I doubt every
key stroke, cursive line,
illegible, and like dsythymic me
the words and letters, don't look right.

But that call, even if what
I wrote helps just one to
get beyond, whatever...
places they have been
and are unable to go
there when they least
are ready, remember. like an eddy,
"I know someone who" needed
to get a random phone call,
and say "yes please use what
I wrote as that is why I wrote it"
I guess I am treading on that
slippery ***** called arrogance,
but my heart still beats and my
hat still fits and I look in the
mirror and say, "time for bed"
peace pax shalom paix


©DWE102013
Àŧùl Feb 2016
For me,
You truly,
Care Sir,
My future,
You wished,
Only bright.

But alas,
It's not,
Thoroughly dark,
Sitting here.

And endeavours,
Not sufficient,
Doomed failure.

Priceless moments,
Indeed wasted,
Eastwards staring,
Caring not,
Efforts wasted,
So sorry.

Because I feel so cheated,
Unforgettable are the marks,
Truly loving makes you prone.

But yes Sire,
I'm only debilitated,
Totally not devastated,
Such pains I'm accustomed to.

Wishing an easier life,
Is not for me at all,
Losing myself,
Long I have been.

So hear in night's ears,
I will rise once again.
This one is for Professor GitacharYa VedaLa
I am so sorry, Sirji.

But I promise,
My potential is only debilitated,
I am not defeated.

I'll rise again.

With love and power of life immortal.

I am in bits and pieces,
But bits will shine.

My HP Poem #1035
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jan 2017
Your presence is benign,
On this planet,
Unto Mars your scent reaches.

Finish the pending job,
Articulation is the work,
Reaching far is your scent,
Tackling this humourously,
Ending this ode I will be,
Doomsday seems to descend.

A** rainbow of blood,
Not visible to humans,
Deathly is the scent.

I mean it for real,
Totally serious.

Wasps from hell seem to sting,
As needles of repugnancy *****,
Sadness descends for forever.

Himalayas seem to be an escape,
On the change of atmosphere,
Rows of roses are required,
Right now and right here,
In an attempt to save us,
Breathing became hard,
Lost was the will to live,
Early was fresh air needed.
You farted and it was horrible.
A dark & seriously funny poem.
Another secondary acrostic poem.

My HP Poem #1381
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Aug 2017
I* know of a Nomad people there.

They would even marry kids,
About 8 year olds I refer to here,
Lay them in the desert sand,
Kill them they would every night.

Alas, a new creed was started,
Bet they do for camel derbies,
Often they Halal their necks,
Up they drink camel blood,
Totally exploiting their women.

Them we fear the most,
How shameless they are,
End their hatred will never.

My indication is towards them,
Unintelligible who have become,
Slim are their famished girls,
Listening is the entrapped Shiva,
I know that He'll be finally free,
Many still repeat the enchantments,
So dumb they circumambulate anti-clockwise.

An effigy of Ravaņa is afire annually,
None of his descendants is brave,
Demean they the Hindus therefore.

Them the world fears on this day,
Harmony is harmed by them,
Escaping them is not possible,
I mean that they are everywhere,
Regal they think that they all are.

Originating in Hinduism,
Road to heaven they have lost,
I too got visions from heaven,
Go to the mausoleum & break it,
Ignore what the world says,
No followers of Maha Maada,
S**he was a demon princess originally.
My HP Poem #1648
©Atul Kaushal

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