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"pita" poems
MAA Maa mamta ki phool hai, maa pyaar ka samundar hai, badal de dhukh ko bhi sukh mein, Maa ke andar karuna ka wo bhandar hai, Maa duniya ki janani hai, Maa surya ki raushani hai , jinke paas maa hai wo nirdhan nahi ,kyoki maa wo khushio ki lakshmi hai, Maa in othon ki muskurahat hai, Maa baccho ki taqdeer hai , Maa hai hamare path nirmata , maa us devi ki tasveer hai ,                 PITA Pita ghar ka anushashan hai, pita maa ka sindoor hai, baccho ko sahi galat ki siksha dene wale , pita Wo shikshak ki tasveer hai , pita ghar ka maan hai , Pita us devta saman hai , baccho ke bhavishya ujwal karne wala , Pita wo takatwar vartamaan hai, Pita maa ki muskurahat hai , Pita maa ki bindiya hai , jahan  bashta baccho ka jahan, Pita ghar ki wo khushia hai , maat pita jinke paas wo sabse dhani hai, na ** kabhi inhe dukh ye pran hume karni hai, inka Sahara bankar kare inka samman , yehi hamare pooja yahi hamare bhagwaan..
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Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 7:56 PM UTC
MATA-PITA
Kanyadaan hua jab pura, Aaya samay vidayi ka Hashi khushi sab kaam hua tha, Saari rashmm adaai ka Beti ke uss kaatar swar ne , Baabul ko jhakjhor dia Puch rahi thi papa tumne, Kya sach-much me chodd dia Apne aangan ki phulwari, Mujhko sada kaha tumne Mere rone ko pal bhar bhi, Bilkul nahi saha tumne Kya iss aangan ke kone me, Mera kuch asthan nahi Ab mere rone ka papa, Tumko bilkul dhyan nahi Dekho antim baar dehri, Log mujhhe pujwaate hai Aakar ke papa inko kyu, Aap nahi dhamkate hai Nahi rokte chacha taau, Bhaiya se v aas nahi Aisi bhi kya nishthurta hai, Koi aata paas nahi Beti ki baato ko sun ke, Pita nahi rah saka khada Umadd pade ankho se aanshu, Badahawas sa daud pada Kaatar bichia si wah beti, Lipat pita se rotii thi Jaise yaado ke akshar wah, Ashru bindu se dhoti thi Maa ko laga god se koi, Maano sab kuch cheen chala Phool sabhi ghar ki phoolwari se koi jyo been chala Chota bhai bhi kone me, Baitha biatha subak raha Usko kaun karega chup ab, Wah kone me dubak raha Beti ke jaane par ghar ne, Jaane kya kya khoya hai Kabhi naa rone wala baap bhi, Phoot-Phoot kar roya hai ............
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Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 8:07 AM UTC
KANYADAAN HUA JAB PURA
Aapko khuda ne badi fursat se banaya hai, Etni pyari si muskan aapke hothon par sajaya hai, Aapki ye sararati aankhon ne, Har pal ko khushnuma aur khubsurat banaya hai, Aapne Ghar ko mandir banaya hai, Maat-Pita Ki sewa kar unhe bhagwan ka darja dilaya hai, Aap najane kis mitti Ki bani ** Khud aansoo bahake bhi sabhi ko hasaya hai, Aap jaisa dost humne badi muskil se paya hai, Aaj gum bhulakar phir se humne muskuraya hai, Ruthi kalam ko manakar humne, Aaj aapko apni kavita me sazaya hai, Apni kavita me sajaya hai....
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Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 12:17 PM UTC
AAPKO KHUDA NE BADI FURSAT SE BANAYA HAI
Hum us desh ke vashi hain..... Jaha sabhi ka samman kiya jata hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha sabhi logo me ekta hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha atithi ko bhagwan ka darja diya jata hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha aurato ko devi kaha jata hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha hindu muslim sikh esai sabhi bhai bhai hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain..... Jaha mata pita ko dharti ke bhagwan mana jata hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain..... Jaha sabhi log desh ke liye marte hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha mahatma gandhi, Bhagat singh, Subash chandra bose jaise beero ne janam liya tha, Hum us desh ke vashi hain..... Jaha par sanchai aur ekta mishal hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha ki nadiya sudha jal deti hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain..... Jise log bharat ya india kahte hain...       JAY HIND                JAY BHARAT
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May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 4:34 AM UTC
HUM US DESH KE VASHI HAIN......
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
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Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 2:23 PM UTC
UDD JAYEGI EK DIN CHIRAIYA CHHODKAR BABUL KA GHAR
Ek cup chai le kar baitha aur Ravivar tha aur yunhi waqt Beetta hi chala gaya… Phir khuch panne ultaye… Ankahi kahani ke… Khuch Paheli Ko dekha… Mann hi mann Socha kal suljaunga Woh wali purani Paheli… Jo aaine ki tarah Samne toh kabhi ojhal ** jaati hai… Kyuki aaj Ravivar tha… Aur waqt… Thodi Dhoop Ko aane diya Thodi thand se baatein Kiya Phir ek cup chai Liya kal Somvar hai Toh Aaj waqt… Yunhi yunnhi… Beetta chala Gaya… Yunnhi yunhi waqt aaj… Toh.. Kya phir chai… Mein pita hi chala gaya… ……… …… …. .. . .. … ….. ……… …………..
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Feb 10, 2019
Feb 10, 2019 at 2:18 AM UTC
EK CUP CHAI AUR RAVIVAR E SOCH ME MEIN...KYA PURA DIN PINE ME HI CHALA JAYEGA WAQT ?YA PHIR KAB JAGUNGA MEIN? YA YUNHI YUNHI YE NEELA SAMUNDAR ME DOOB JAUNGA...BIN KAHE?
Kash! Ye dil bhi benakab hote, To sayad na dhokhe hote aur nahi fasad hote, Log sirf unse dosti karte, Jinke dilo me sirf mohabbat ke raag hote, Kash! Ye dil bhi benakab hote, To sayad na dhokhe hote aur nahi fasad hote, Sirf unse hi pyaar hota, Jinke dilo ke liye wo khaas hote, Kash ! Ye dil bhi benakab hote, To sayad na dhokhe hote aur nahi fasad hote, To Pet sirf unka bharta, Jo sach me us roti ke mohtaaz hote, Kash ! Ye dil bhi benakab hote, To sayad na dhokhe hote aur nahi fasad hote, To Na padti zarurat en hothon ki, Kyoki sirf dilon se hi baat hote, Kash! Ye dil bhi benakab hote, To sayad na dhokhe hote aur nahi fasad hote, Har ghar mandir ban jata, Aur Maat-pita us mandir ke bhagwan hote, Kash! Ye dil bhi benakab hote, To sayad na dhokhe hote aur nahi fasad hote, To na koi dharm hota aur na koi mazahab , Hum sab ek hote aur sabhi se pyar hote, Kash ! Ye dil bhi benakab hote, To sayad na dhokhe hote aur nahi fasad hote, Na milta phir kisi ko bhi dard bhare pal, Na kavi hote aur nahi sayari bhare andaaz hote, Kash ! Ye dil bhi benakab hote, To sayad na dhokhe hote aur nahi fasad hote, Kaun puchhta en banawati chehare ko, Tab to **** se nahi sirf ru'h se pyaar hote, Sirf ru'h se pyaar hote...
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Sep 20, 2017
Sep 20, 2017 at 12:00 AM UTC
KASH! YE DIL BHI BENAKAB HOTE....
Junoon Kanha Ab pehle ki tarah Abhi na hosh raha Aur wajah bhi jeene ki jaise Dheere dheere khatam Hoti ja Rahi hai Bewajah ya phir wajah Daru Pita hu nukkad nukkad me Aur dhoondta hu ek theekana Janha Noor Bhari pyaar hi pyaar ** . .. Aur na Milne par Phir se Sharaab e gulab Me Nazar Aur... Sharaab Ko hi Humsafar ki tarah ghulta doobta ...ek yaad me Chun Liya ** jaise... Har waqt Har lamha Khyaal e khwaab me Aur chamakta Sitara Ko tootte hue dekha Toh phir ek mehfil Aur khyaal wohi puraane din ke Aur aaj bhi yaad karu Toh Lage naye jaise taaza gulaab e nasha ... Aur Ishq Bhari woh aankhein Kudrat ka karishma ** jaise .. Aankh khuli Par Raha toh mein bas ek sharaabi Yaadein aur woh neele neele amber Aur oska Chand ki taraf  dekhna . Aur mein niharta ose Chandni raaton me Chand se bhi jaida khubsurat Ose dekhta mein Haqeeqat me ... ... ... Aur phir ek kaanch ki bottle tooti mere haathon me Khyaal aaya Ki Ab mein osse bahot dur ** Chuka hu ...bahot dur... Aur Ishq jaise... Najane aankhon me kaed Aaskhq e beedi Khud Ko jalata aur . . . Kitni bhi koshish Karu Par oska chehra Nazar aa hi jata .. ... . .
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Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 6:14 PM UTC
Deewangi e rang e sharaab ...pita hu mein, Haan mein sharaab!!!
Jis phul ne koi galati hi nahi ki, Use kis baat ki saza diya ja rha hai, Es duniya me aane se pahle hi kyu use maar diya ja rha hai, Ai Khuda kyu aise janwar ko tune banaya, Ek chhoti kali ko pet me hi maar khud ko insaan btaya, Na maaro us phul ko jisme us bhagwan ka hai waas, Ek din aisa aayega jab ** jayega puri shristi ka naas Arey nasamjh insaan sirf bete ki hi aas lagaoge, To phir maa, behan aur dulhan kahan se paoge, Mata-Pita ki galati ki saza us chhoti kali ko diya jata hai, Ek chhote se andhere ghar me hi use maar diya jata hai, Wo kali bhi baar baar unlogo se karti pukar, Hey Maa-Baba mujhe pet me hi mat maar, Ye duniya ek baar mujhe bhi dikha de, Apne amrit ki ek ghunt mujhe bhi pila de, Nanhi si jaan tou hai bekasoor, Maar kar hi aakhir kyu milta hai pathar dilon ko suroor, Wo bhi dekhna chahti hai duniya, Janam lene se pehle hi Jaan gawani padti hai oo gudiya, Apne hi hathon ukhed dete hai apne hi aangan ka phool, Kaisa hai ye bereham logon ka usool, Kismat wale hote hai wo insaan, Jinki kokh mein dete hain betiyan bhagwaan, Beti hai ishwar ka hai en anmol uphaar, Jeene ka us nanhi jaan ko bhi hai adhikaar, Sharam aati hai logo ki is ghatiya soch par, Taras aata hai unpar Jo apne hi ansh ka dete hain maar Devi ka karte hain jo tiraskaar, Banao ek naya usool Beti ko karo qubool Jeevan ka hai ye adhaar Banta hai inhi se sansaar, Likh us phul ka dard hamari aankhen bhar aai, Teri banai duniya me O mera khuda ye teri kaisi khudai.. Ye teri kaisi khudai... Collaboration by Manish Shrivastava and Sonia Paruthi
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Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 10:12 AM UTC
Nanhi si jaan ka balidaan
Jis phul ne koi galati hi nahi ki, Use kis baat ki saza diya ja rha hai, Es duniya me aane se pahle hi kyu use maar diya ja rha hai, Ai Khuda kyu aise janwar ko tune banaya, Ek chhoti kali ko pet me hi maar khud ko insaan btaya, Na maaro us phul ko jisme us bhagwan ka hai waas, Ek din aisa aayega jab ** jayega puri shristi ka naas Arey nasamjh insaan sirf bete ki hi aas lagaoge, To phir maa, behan aur dulhan kahan se paoge, Mata-Pita ki galati ki saza us chhoti kali ko diya jata hai, Ek chhote se andhere ghar me hi use maar diya jata hai, Wo kali bhi baar baar unlogo se karti pukar, Hey Maa-Baba mujhe pet me hi mat maar, Ye duniya ek baar mujhe bhi dikha de, Apne amrit ki ek ghunt mujhe bhi pila de, Nanhi si jaan tou hai bekasoor, Maar kar hi aakhir kyu milta hai pathar dilon ko suroor, Wo bhi dekhna chahti hai duniya, Janam lene se pehle hi Jaan gawani padti hai oo gudiya, Apne hi hathon ukhed dete hai apne hi aangan ka phool, Kaisa hai ye bereham logon ka usool, Kismat wale hote hai wo insaan, Jinki kokh mein dete hain betiyan bhagwaan, Beti hai ishwar ka hai en anmol uphaar, Jeene ka us nanhi jaan ko bhi hai adhikaar, Sharam aati hai logo ki is ghatiya soch par, Taras aata hai unpar Jo apne hi ansh ka dete hain maar Devi ka karte hain jo tiraskaar, Banao ek naya usool Beti ko karo qubool Jeevan ka hai ye adhaar Banta hai inhi se sansaar, Likh us phul ka dard hamari aankhen bhar aai, Teri banai duniya me O mera khuda ye teri kaisi khudai.. Ye teri kaisi khudai... Collaboration by Manish Shrivastava and Sonia Paruthi
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Hai naman unko ki jo iss deh ko amaratwa dekar... Iss jagat me shaurya ki ziwit kahani ** gye hai... Hai naman unko ki jinke saamne bauna haimalya... Jo dhara par gir pade par aashmani ** gye hai... hai naman unko.... Likh chuki hai vidhi tumhari veerta k punya leke... Vijay k udhgosh geeta k kathan tumko naman hai... Sindoordaano ki gathao desh hit pratipatth yaowank dapan tumko naman hai... Bahan k bishwas, bhai k sakha, kul k sahare, pita k vrat k falit Maa k nayan tumko naman hai... Ki hai naman unko ki jinko mrityu paakar hui paawan... Sikhar jinke Charan chukar or maani ** gye hai... Ki hai naman unko ki jinke saamne bauna himalaya... Jo dhara par gir pade par aashmani ** gye hai... hai naman unko....
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Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 8:21 AM UTC
Hai Naman Unko
.                                 1 can diced                            mangos, drained•                           1 can diced tomato                          es, drained • 1\4 cup                            diced red onion •                            1\4 cup  chopped                             fresh  cilantro or                             mint• 1\2 jalapeñ                             o, seeded and fin                             ely chopped  or 2                             tbsp. canned dice                             d jalapeño. • 2 tb.                             p.   fresh  lime or                             lemon juice ****                  stir together     all ingredients           in medium bowl  Serve as a dip with           tortilla or pita ch ips or as a topping              for quesadillas   or grilled chicken                    fish  or                  pork ****
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May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 5:17 PM UTC
Mango Salsa
A breadcrumb I am - the morsel of my old dough,      a piece of chewed bread rotten, missed near a toe, shredded by the sons of righteousness and “normality”,      entombed I am under the carpet to fulfil “morality”. Mum added the yeast for me to grow, as well as flour,      Hoping my crust would golden as a vivid live flower, She sprinkled little salt into me, to know the grimes,      Sugar too, for life brings out the salt to eyes, at times. Dad poured the water, to soften toughness uncalled,      For man is kind too, not merely clay masked, walled - And above all, they added affection and compassion,      They wanted me to satisfy mineself, not one’s ration. Into the oven, 9 minutes, under fire: I show colors,      The warmth turned the heart warm for all others; I am left to rest, to harden the shell and eternal body,      To be perfect as ma and pa wish: not adverse, shoddy. But the stale, unpuffed, unfresh bread of this world,      covets but loathes what is good and not yet twirled, It wishes for me to inhibit mold and evict dignity,     Mais allez, étrange moi, expose me not to malignity. The least of their gurgling sounds puncture heads,      And the weakest of their advice the spirit dreads; The making of me is the capacity of mine flexes,      Your ingredients suit not me, mortals and sexes. Days yearn for you, not this battle of complexes:      You, mine old dough who suddenly “complex” is, My parents baked me on low heat nice and gentle,      And they sear me with words not for me, mental! Know you: Pita, Kmajj, Brioche, Shrak, or Baguette,      Bread is bread, could be different, but it is no threat.
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Jan 18, 2023
Jan 18, 2023 at 9:27 AM UTC
The Battle of Breads
A breadcrumb I am - the morsel of my old dough,      a piece of chewed bread rotten, missed near a toe, shredded by the sons of righteousness and “normality”,      entombed I am under the carpet to fulfil “morality”. Mum added the yeast for me to grow, as well as flour,      Hoping my crust would golden as a vivid live flower, She sprinkled little salt into me, to know the grimes,      Sugar too, for life brings out the salt to eyes, at times. Dad poured the water, to soften toughness uncalled,      For man is kind too, not merely clay masked, walled - And above all, they added affection and compassion,      They wanted me to satisfy mineself, not one’s ration. Into the oven, 9 minutes, under fire: I show colors,      The warmth turned the heart warm for all others; I am left to rest, to harden the shell and eternal body,      To be perfect as ma and pa wish: not adverse, shoddy. But the stale, unpuffed, unfresh bread of this world,      covets but loathes what is good and not yet twirled, It wishes for me to inhibit mold and evict dignity,     Mais allez, étrange moi, expose me not to malignity. The least of their gurgling sounds puncture heads,      And the weakest of their advice the spirit dreads; The making of me is the capacity of mine flexes,      Your ingredients suit not me, mortals and sexes. Days yearn for you, not this battle of complexes:      You, mine old dough who suddenly “complex” is, My parents baked me on low heat nice and gentle,      And they sear me with words not for me, mental! Know you: Pita, Kmajj, Brioche, Shrak, or Baguette,      Bread is bread, could be different, but it is no threat.
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Jo hamare aankhon me bade bade sapne sazote hain, Jo hamare sanskaro me pyar ke bij bote hain, Jo  humare sapno ke liye din-raat ek kar dete hain, Aise Hamare Maa-baap hote hain, Jo hamari khushi ke liye khud rote hain, Hamari acchi nind ke liye wo nahi sote hain, Naa karo kabhi bhi Maa-Baap ka apmaan, Kyuki ye bhagwaan ka roop hote hain, Mata-Pita me shaktiya anek hote hain, Dur rahkar bhi ek-dusre se sda ek hote hain, Putra kuptra ** jaatey hai pr, Maa-Baap hamesha nek hote hain, Maa-Baap ke andar ishwariye shakti vidyaman hain, Enke andar samst shristi ka gyan hai, Hum tou kuchh bhi nahi the es naye jahan me, Enhi se hamara naam enhi se hamara pahchaan hain....
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Mar 27, 2018
Mar 27, 2018 at 5:21 AM UTC
Mata-Pita....
Well I used to pick you up after work and we would go drink beer and eat pita bread sandwiches while we played pool all night long until closing time . You had a Martin Guitar and a voice to sing that made the angelics cry . You were friends of Maggie's fame , the Angel from Montgomery . Together the two of you would sing and stun the audience . The people couldn't believe it . You were my Girl Friday next to Sunday's release . You were good enough on weekends but the rest of the week not . So sing The Song Of The Turtles as Blind Joe Death dances away . I found out the hard way it takes seven days to make a week .
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Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 9:14 PM UTC
Best Girl Friday
This meal will be magic worldwide skills, are no sort of tragic for starters may I suggest the spinach dip, you put to the test Broccoli cheddar chowder to help you recoup but served with pit I'd choose Mock Turtle soup It's what mock turtle soup is made from So your hungry? But would never eat a horse let me enlighten thee main course It'll keep you lookin great, in your bikini Its the sauteed jack, pita panini Yet wait just a second don't be so quick to cruise for dessert your spirit will vigor for my strawberry mousse
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Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 11:06 PM UTC
Meal For Chlorina
Tum taareef e aashiqui Mein awaara Pita lagataar pagal deewana dard e jaam Dard hi dard me Itna ghumsum... Socha na tha Ishq is kadar hoga shayad!!!
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Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 4:16 AM UTC
Kabhi sacha kabhi jhoota!ishq ki nazane kitni paribhasa!
ini ceritanya jejak si bucin 'dasar bucin !' 'mau mauan aja, bucin !' 'jangan bucin kenapasih !' salah menyampaikan sayang ? salah menyuarakan cinta ? salah mengekspresikan kasih ? itu semua salah ? terlebih terhadap pasangan sana sini memandang, bucin kenapa ? berlebihan ? ya. demi botol nestle kemarin mungkin berlebihan tapi tidak juga apakah lebih baik pistol dan pisau daripada bunga dan pita ? iya saya juga bingung bucin dianggap remeh seperti benda yang harus dilepeh ada apa si dengan bucin ? makhluk hidup yang mengekspresikan rasanya kan ? ah tidak tau tapi semenjak aku bertemu dia aku tidak apa disebut bucin karena membuat lengkung di bibirnya salah satu pencapaian sudah ya, pokok pikirannya tidak dapat. sudah pusing. hahaha. salam bucin !
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Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 7:01 AM UTC
bucin
YUMMY YUMMY IN MY TATTOOED TUMMY I like eating very much, call it a passion coz obsession sounds too mad. Give me a sandwich tuna mayo one sliced tomato on bread times two. Not enough! Time for chicken donner on nan with everything on: hot sauce, salad cream with salad, peppers too, Jalapeno style. Add an order for onion barges, samosas and chips in pita bread with mild sauce on. Yummy yummy in my tattooed tummy! Half an hour later, an Italian beckons. His pizza looks cool! I say three types of meat, sliced, on top. Extra cheese, deep pan and two types of olives. Munchy time and yes, I enjoy this meal. Later… What next? English fish and chips with salt and vinegar and a drop of gravy. No mushy peas, I hate them! I’ll take two fish cakes on the side. Traditional English grub down the hatch. Then meat and potato pie on a muffin. Careful not to burn my mouth! Did that before. Yummy yummy in my tattooed tummy! Time for some American influence, supersize me! Huge portion of fries, mega big burger and a litre of strawberry milkshake. I’m multicultural in my diet. Foreign people are cool when it comes to their cuisine. I love Norwegian apple juice, as I need a drink after eating their goats’ cheese on rough white bread. Yummy yummy in my tattooed tummy! Chinese crispy duck is desirable, just like egg fried rice and prawn crackers. All available food is welcome, I’ll eat your left over’s on my trip of eating. Yummy yummy in my tattooed tummy!
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Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 12:58 PM UTC
YUMMY YUMMY IN MY TATTOOED TUMMY
One juice box One scone One apple for Noble and a pita for Peter One sandwich One coke One green pea for  me and a pita for Peter One fanta for Santa One pizza for Caesar And extra mozzarella for Ella The spare is for you And as for the bean Put that in the bin and a pita for Peter One ice-cream One pie One pasta for Busta and a pita for Peter One cake One steak One milkshake for Shriek and a pita for Peter One pita for Peter? Give each one their own and a pita for Peter
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Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 6:04 PM UTC
A pita for Peter
Meze *Meze or mezze /ˈmɛzeɪ/ is a selection of small dishes served in the Middle East and the Balkans as breakfast, lunch or even dinner. -~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It's a meze day, Many small poems arrayed, A tasting menu, Hummus and babaganoush, Small observations, Pita dipping, Long writs tabled, Unless dragged out from the wine cellar, For another meal, Another mood. They'll keep, or not. The bay and beach have been traded in, For Western Mass. mountains, The highland region, The Berkshires, the Green and the Taconic Mountains, Formed over half a billion years ago When Africa collided   with North America. (Just for a weekend, a traitor, I'm not.) *Different insects checking me out, Crash landing in my chest hair jungle To get a taste of a Long Island salt air, Fresh blood and poetry from a foreign tongue. Mount Greylock asks me what I got to say. I said I got grey locks older than you, friend. I am a billion years old, son of the copulation Tween the Sun and and a passing comet, The Atlantic, My amniotic fluid birthstone unevaporated.. Greylock sniffs, mumbles, just another New Yorker. *The clouds different, thick slabs, bank-heads keeping My sun-father from showing his true colors, My skin seeks his restorative powers, Burn the strain, the stress, the black circles from Within and without, but this is a partly cloudy day. Sooner than me, the leaves will be red and gold, The season of long sunnier days forgotten, The trees that Fill the panorama, Point their soon-to-be Denuded branch fingers at me Accusingly, L'etranger, You brought winter's chill, A lie but perhaps not, For they are sensing the Inhabiting cold in me. A strange day, every asking, passing thought Thrown back in my face, And stewed, stir fried up All in vain attempts to keep warmer Just a little bit Longer.*
0
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 1:23 PM UTC
Meze
Meze *Meze or mezze /ˈmɛzeɪ/ is a selection of small dishes served in the Middle East and the Balkans as breakfast, lunch or even dinner. -~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It's a meze day, Many small poems arrayed, A tasting menu, Hummus and babaganoush, Small observations, Pita dipping, Long writs tabled, Unless dragged out from the wine cellar, For another meal, Another mood. They'll keep, or not. The bay and beach have been traded in, For Western Mass. mountains, The highland region, The Berkshires, the Green and the Taconic Mountains, Formed over half a billion years ago When Africa collided   with North America. (Just for a weekend, a traitor, I'm not.) *Different insects checking me out, Crash landing in my chest hair jungle To get a taste of a Long Island salt air, Fresh blood and poetry from a foreign tongue. Mount Greylock asks me what I got to say. I said I got grey locks older than you, friend. I am a billion years old, son of the copulation Tween the Sun and and a passing comet, The Atlantic, My amniotic fluid birthstone unevaporated.. Greylock sniffs, mumbles, just another New Yorker. *The clouds different, thick slabs, bank-heads keeping My sun-father from showing his true colors, My skin seeks his restorative powers, Burn the strain, the stress, the black circles from Within and without, but this is a partly cloudy day. Sooner than me, the leaves will be red and gold, The season of long sunnier days forgotten, The trees that Fill the panorama, Point their soon-to-be Denuded branch fingers at me Accusingly, L'etranger, You brought winter's chill, A lie but perhaps not, For they are sensing the Inhabiting cold in me. A strange day, every asking, passing thought Thrown back in my face, And stewed, stir fried up All in vain attempts to keep warmer Just a little bit Longer.*
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58
It starts as drizzle pita pata gently the sky gets darker and darker pita pata become droplets that plop they hit the red soil pounding hard dry soil jumping in gratitude and joy Now the pounding becomes a torrent the soil does jump no more the ground all around starts to change colour mimicking it's sister sky Puddles appear everywhere creating droplets upon water that leap and twirl like ballerinas dancing on their own private pools The smell of damp soil is so sweet the clouds depart their work complete the puddles will shrink as water seeps into the earth sustaining life new and old the rain, in my eyes is a wonder to behold By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
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Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 4:40 AM UTC
Rain
There is a love no phrase defines Eight letters mean nothing but what you take from them. And some take none. So I'll take a few more letters cos' eight seems not enough, to tell of a love that rests high above the lust of a high school romance. This is a love where you dance through the night with your shirts off to music that doesn't even play. You sneak abouts here and there and hit bowls against the grass and glance on lakes at night the ultimate paradox shining in mankind. Belligerent fights with brooms ensue to be ended by boxes of cardboard pizza or red pepper pita and hummus. Your parents say, "those guys again..." And you say, "Hey! you're talkin' bout' my friends here." So you go. You take rides endless it seems. Take trips to places before unseen. Talks of blabber and sensibility. Snuggle seshes end in wrestling matches. If you wake up and your jaw hurts, you and Maxy probably got drunk again. If your clothes smell a bit, chance that Andy dropped by. If your mind's been blown Mack and Will laid with you by the pond for hours. If you feel a love stronger in your soul, Dbake's nearby. If you laugh your *** off for days, Dusty probably told a joke or pulled his pants down. If you can't wrap you mind around some fact or story, Bankman must have sprouted out some MIT engineering bull you wish you could understand. But who gives a hey when you're out chilling with the bros, brews or not, smokes or tokes or nokes, there is always a brotha out to chill. And to you, I say NAMASTE
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Sep 13, 2010
Sep 13, 2010 at 11:52 PM UTC
To mis Amigos
There is a love no phrase defines Eight letters mean nothing but what you take from them. And some take none. So I'll take a few more letters cos' eight seems not enough, to tell of a love that rests high above the lust of a high school romance. This is a love where you dance through the night with your shirts off to music that doesn't even play. You sneak abouts here and there and hit bowls against the grass and glance on lakes at night the ultimate paradox shining in mankind. Belligerent fights with brooms ensue to be ended by boxes of cardboard pizza or red pepper pita and hummus. Your parents say, "those guys again..." And you say, "Hey! you're talkin' bout' my friends here." So you go. You take rides endless it seems. Take trips to places before unseen. Talks of blabber and sensibility. Snuggle seshes end in wrestling matches. If you wake up and your jaw hurts, you and Maxy probably got drunk again. If your clothes smell a bit, chance that Andy dropped by. If your mind's been blown Mack and Will laid with you by the pond for hours. If you feel a love stronger in your soul, Dbake's nearby. If you laugh your *** off for days, Dusty probably told a joke or pulled his pants down. If you can't wrap you mind around some fact or story, Bankman must have sprouted out some MIT engineering bull you wish you could understand. But who gives a hey when you're out chilling with the bros, brews or not, smokes or tokes or nokes, there is always a brotha out to chill. And to you, I say NAMASTE
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51
You are beautiful and flawless and so tiny and perfect i don't understand why you're so sad because your worth is exactly the same if not more of what the sun means to the world. You are the sun in my world its like someone took something so much bigger than what it seems and stuck it into a little nutshell like a chestnut or a kernel of a popcorn or the meat inside a pita you're so amazing words don't even touch it there isn't a combination i could ever give to you or an equation or any sort of math problem that could calculate the value of what you mean to me. To tell you the truth it makes me really upset that i am supposed to be your best friend and i couldn't help you before it got too bad. I should have noticed. And I hate that. I'm so sorry that i couldn't do that and that you didn't feel that you could come to me. If i could take all your pain away and give you every ounce if happiness in the entire galaxy of planets, i would. You are the only person in this world who deserves that much and you may be sad now, but you won't be sad forever. I'm not categorizing you as "depressed" or that you have a fault because you don't. I am weak. I bottle everything up and take it all out on myself through thoughts with no physical action. From this day on i promise i won't ever let you feel like you should be ashamed or nervous to tell me anything i love you you're my sister you're the most amazing person I've ever met and IM lucky to have YOU. The next time you think of picking up that blade of the razor or the edge of those scissors i want you to remember exactly what i just said to you and I want you to try your best to put them down. I don't want you to hate yourself. It's pretty sick that a person would rather **** themselves than be who they are, your worth to me.. Your family..Your That's unconditional love. D.B is worthless to your life in the scheme of things and i know that its going to be hard but all i ask is that you try, i can't expect you to stop as much as i wish i could do something to make that happen i just want to know that you are trying. It's 1:14 and I'm crying and i just love you and I don't want you to do something horrible that could make me lose you forever, when my dad left i felt so worthless like the only love i ever believed in wasn't even true and i know i hide things a lot but i was so close to the edge and i wouldn't have made it through any of that without you. THATS the kid of impact you have made on my life.. And I think that's pretty amazing.
0
Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 3:35 AM UTC
And i hope you get better really, really soon
You are beautiful and flawless and so tiny and perfect i don't understand why you're so sad because your worth is exactly the same if not more of what the sun means to the world. You are the sun in my world its like someone took something so much bigger than what it seems and stuck it into a little nutshell like a chestnut or a kernel of a popcorn or the meat inside a pita you're so amazing words don't even touch it there isn't a combination i could ever give to you or an equation or any sort of math problem that could calculate the value of what you mean to me. To tell you the truth it makes me really upset that i am supposed to be your best friend and i couldn't help you before it got too bad. I should have noticed. And I hate that. I'm so sorry that i couldn't do that and that you didn't feel that you could come to me. If i could take all your pain away and give you every ounce if happiness in the entire galaxy of planets, i would. You are the only person in this world who deserves that much and you may be sad now, but you won't be sad forever. I'm not categorizing you as "depressed" or that you have a fault because you don't. I am weak. I bottle everything up and take it all out on myself through thoughts with no physical action. From this day on i promise i won't ever let you feel like you should be ashamed or nervous to tell me anything i love you you're my sister you're the most amazing person I've ever met and IM lucky to have YOU. The next time you think of picking up that blade of the razor or the edge of those scissors i want you to remember exactly what i just said to you and I want you to try your best to put them down. I don't want you to hate yourself. It's pretty sick that a person would rather **** themselves than be who they are, your worth to me.. Your family..Your That's unconditional love. D.B is worthless to your life in the scheme of things and i know that its going to be hard but all i ask is that you try, i can't expect you to stop as much as i wish i could do something to make that happen i just want to know that you are trying. It's 1:14 and I'm crying and i just love you and I don't want you to do something horrible that could make me lose you forever, when my dad left i felt so worthless like the only love i ever believed in wasn't even true and i know i hide things a lot but i was so close to the edge and i wouldn't have made it through any of that without you. THATS the kid of impact you have made on my life.. And I think that's pretty amazing.
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1
Mejor será no regresar al pueblo, al edén subvertido que se calla en la mutilación de la metralla. Hasta los fresnos mancos, los dignatarios de cúpula oronda, han de rodar las quejas de la torre acribillada en los vientos de fronda. Y la fusilería grabó en la cal de todas las paredes de la aldea espectral, negros y aciagos mapas, porque en ellos leyese el hijo pródigo al volver a su umbral en un anochecer de maleficio, a la luz de petróleo de una mecha su esperanza deshecha. Cuando la tosca llave enmohecida tuerza la chirriante cerradura, en la añeja clausura del zaguán, los dos púdicos medallones de yeso, entornando los párpados narcóticos, se mirarán y se dirán: «¿Qué es eso?» Y yo entraré con pies advenedizos hasta el patio agorero en que hay un brocal ensimismado, con un cubo de cuero goteando su gota categórica como un estribillo plañidero. Si el sol inexorable, alegre y tónico, hace hervir a las fuentes catecúmenas en que bañábase mi sueño crónico; si se afana la hormiga; si en los techos resuena y se fatiga de los buches de tórtola el reclamo que entre las telarañas zumba y zumba; mi sed de amar será como una argolla empotrada en la losa de una tumba. Las golondrinas nuevas, renovando con sus noveles picos alfareros los nidos tempraneros; bajo el ópalo insigne de los atardeceres monacales, el lloro de recientes recentales por la ubérrima ubre prohibida de la vaca, rumiante y faraónica, que al párvulo intimida; campanario de timbre novedoso; remozados altares; el amor amoroso de las parejas pares; noviazgos de muchachas frescas y humildes, como humildes coles, y que la mano dan por el postigo a la luz de dramáticos faroles; alguna señorita que canta en algún piano alguna vieja aria; el gendarme que pita... ...Y una íntima tristeza reaccionaria.
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1.2k
El retorno maléfico
Mejor será no regresar al pueblo, al edén subvertido que se calla en la mutilación de la metralla. Hasta los fresnos mancos, los dignatarios de cúpula oronda, han de rodar las quejas de la torre acribillada en los vientos de fronda. Y la fusilería grabó en la cal de todas las paredes de la aldea espectral, negros y aciagos mapas, porque en ellos leyese el hijo pródigo al volver a su umbral en un anochecer de maleficio, a la luz de petróleo de una mecha su esperanza deshecha. Cuando la tosca llave enmohecida tuerza la chirriante cerradura, en la añeja clausura del zaguán, los dos púdicos medallones de yeso, entornando los párpados narcóticos, se mirarán y se dirán: «¿Qué es eso?» Y yo entraré con pies advenedizos hasta el patio agorero en que hay un brocal ensimismado, con un cubo de cuero goteando su gota categórica como un estribillo plañidero. Si el sol inexorable, alegre y tónico, hace hervir a las fuentes catecúmenas en que bañábase mi sueño crónico; si se afana la hormiga; si en los techos resuena y se fatiga de los buches de tórtola el reclamo que entre las telarañas zumba y zumba; mi sed de amar será como una argolla empotrada en la losa de una tumba. Las golondrinas nuevas, renovando con sus noveles picos alfareros los nidos tempraneros; bajo el ópalo insigne de los atardeceres monacales, el lloro de recientes recentales por la ubérrima ubre prohibida de la vaca, rumiante y faraónica, que al párvulo intimida; campanario de timbre novedoso; remozados altares; el amor amoroso de las parejas pares; noviazgos de muchachas frescas y humildes, como humildes coles, y que la mano dan por el postigo a la luz de dramáticos faroles; alguna señorita que canta en algún piano alguna vieja aria; el gendarme que pita... ...Y una íntima tristeza reaccionaria.
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I. We are a young pair enjoying An exchange of pleasantries over aromatic tea and pita bread. The ancient sun above has surely seen Many times betwix youth, enamoured courting. Beside our plates lemon halves are dripping sour juices into the bright napery thread. You've brought chocolate sweets, Fruits for tasting, and sublte flirting to stir my chest.   And I've packed wine bought cheap Some dainties and humor To cause peals of your laughter to reach High up into the bright blue heavens. II. The sun is readying to rest and I lay, head in your lap with face shrouded in your curly hair as you plant your sugary delights on my lips. The nights distant bright lights flare as you lean comfortably into my chest. The only sounds, our beating hearts and our soft smooth breaths. Broken only by soft whispers Of ardent words that settle and rest In our souls and minds. Desires exposed to the dark night Until at last we must say goodbye. III. Late that night I Recall ever detail, every moment, From the sound of your laughs, to your coy flirting. From the way you fed me, to the way you began kissing. How my finger locked with yours. And Your faint perfume rubbed into my pores Leaving me  inhaling deeply for the scent. I fall to sleep, ever nerve yearning for more I sleep, desiring you once again. IV. An afternoon to remember, And an evening to never forget. For many a time like that we In younger days spent. Even now, that sweet distant memory Remains ever pleasant. Even now as my days increase I remember our untainted Enamored admiration. Even now as I fall to time, The one thing on my mind  is you. I recall of that sweet youth.
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Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 7:36 PM UTC
Youth
I. We are a young pair enjoying An exchange of pleasantries over aromatic tea and pita bread. The ancient sun above has surely seen Many times betwix youth, enamoured courting. Beside our plates lemon halves are dripping sour juices into the bright napery thread. You've brought chocolate sweets, Fruits for tasting, and sublte flirting to stir my chest.   And I've packed wine bought cheap Some dainties and humor To cause peals of your laughter to reach High up into the bright blue heavens. II. The sun is readying to rest and I lay, head in your lap with face shrouded in your curly hair as you plant your sugary delights on my lips. The nights distant bright lights flare as you lean comfortably into my chest. The only sounds, our beating hearts and our soft smooth breaths. Broken only by soft whispers Of ardent words that settle and rest In our souls and minds. Desires exposed to the dark night Until at last we must say goodbye. III. Late that night I Recall ever detail, every moment, From the sound of your laughs, to your coy flirting. From the way you fed me, to the way you began kissing. How my finger locked with yours. And Your faint perfume rubbed into my pores Leaving me  inhaling deeply for the scent. I fall to sleep, ever nerve yearning for more I sleep, desiring you once again. IV. An afternoon to remember, And an evening to never forget. For many a time like that we In younger days spent. Even now, that sweet distant memory Remains ever pleasant. Even now as my days increase I remember our untainted Enamored admiration. Even now as I fall to time, The one thing on my mind  is you. I recall of that sweet youth.
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51