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"prerna" poems
Who is the world to define mine right or wrong? I am the one who decides it on my own The world a crazy place, people so weird Finding faults everywhere, while hiding in their beard When you stand for the right, They will advocate the wrong Justifying the same With million excuses in their thong Nirbhaya ***** they say girl was characterless Skirts, shorts, boyfriend, night shows - shameless And inchoate, rightly arousing men to **** One in coma now a four year old gang ***** Society mum when humanity disgraced??? Where are the people of so called decent family? Who judge n criticize from hair to lamellae If smoking kills, why is it not banned?? Beef eaters killed, man eaters praised on the land Alcohol, marijuana bad for health While more people die from terrorist attacks Crores are spent to maintain a terrorist To a soldier dying for the country, not even lakhs A rich is a witch flaunting their gold A poor a leech for things they cannot afford? Without external beauty a person is a waste? Your pennyless pocket how shall I grade? Other’s loss is a righteous act of God? Yours is a tragedy, unfortunate loss??? And then you have religion & morals To justify your notions Right or wrong, judgement filled oceans I am a free spirit, Born not to please your beliefs Enough of hypocrite world I see Killing and dividing on castes and creeds.                  © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 13 Oct. 2015
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Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 5:00 PM UTC
STANDARDS OF RIGHT & WRONG
**"Worst form of ******* is entrapment within self"** © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 2015.
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Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
*******
Leave the gentle talk aside Let my eyes today play with your eyes As I bite my lower lip And imagine us the sensual way As I dare to come near you And by the collar I grab you Let the watching eyes watch Are you feeling shy? Now that provokes my wild side Leave the spiritual love for a while Let our senses play tonight Forget dressing decent today Forget manners and etiquettes today Forget what the people will say Just listen to my playful eyes Read the gestures I send your way Let me be the aggressive one my love Out in the wild, everywhere Let our lustful passions devour us today... © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 21 JULY, 2015
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Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 5:04 PM UTC
LET ME FLIRT TODAY
Mine love, mine lord! Liberate me from the shackles of myself Like the free wind let me dwell Like the fragrance let me flow ******* the nectar of every flower Soaking the warmth of every ray Let me be nature, let nature be me Intertwin'd delicacy O solitude! mine cater-cousin thou be Unravelling the secrets of beauty I see with thy eyes With thou I make love On the ice capp'd peaks In the depth of the seas Floating in the blue lagoons Walking on the starry skies Let me be divine, let divine be me Intertwin'd delicacy! Copyright Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 2015.
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Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 2:57 AM UTC
INTERTWINED DELICACY
13 shades of blue With strokes of brush ****** in leathery paint I Colour me treize Hues of blues Into the blue yonder Runs my mind Picking for my throes Carnations blue Cerulean paint I Silence of my orbs Dandelion desires Shimmer sapphire hue Laughter echoes Waterfalls Periwinkle Meconopsis curiosities Walking avenues Rocking plopping Dances my heart As morning glories Jewelled with dew Electric energy, glacial blush Reflected from mine zaffre soul Clematis colored my Aster touch I - a blend of Majorelle blues. © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 2015. Please note that the poetry is copyrighted by Law. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Fairy thimbles = related to fairies Aster flower = healing Morning glory = borns in day dies in evening Blue hibiscus = splendour , serenity Clematis = mental power, courage faithfulness Dandelion = happiness
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Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 3:43 PM UTC
13 SHADES OF BLUE
Morning haze, I wake up running out of words. I close my eyes, look for your face and just like that a poem emerges. Prerna K
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Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 12:37 PM UTC
Poet's Routine
The scavenger waits End of a life So as to feast On a dead child’s meat If at all the silly bird knew It was just a sheet of skin Wrapped on a cage of bones For the meat was already devoured In his struggle to survive. © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 14 Nov. 2015
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Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 1:58 PM UTC
SCAVENGER WAITS
Like the rains drench the soil, drench me in your love. Let there be a Thunderstorm © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 2015
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Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 5:06 PM UTC
Drench me In your love
The scavenger waits End of a life So as to feast On a dead child’s meat If at all the silly bird knew It was just a sheet of skin Wrapped on a cage of bones For the meat was already devoured In his struggle to survive. © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 14 Nov. 2015. All Rights Reserved.
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Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 7:13 AM UTC
THE SCAVENGER WAITS
“I saw the lovely smile on your face A memory I always embrace Silently through the bars of that door I would watch you all so more Dreaming to be a part of your life Propose with a rose, make you my wife And I think how I would? Though not on the knee, on a wheelchair I could. I can love you more than anybody If at all you can see Beyond my physical inefficiency If my soul you fancy Instead of my broken vessel I will win over all hassle Only for your love my love Only if you are with me my dove How do I tell the fears my flaws bring? My inabilities from summer to spring But not a burden on your being I will love you as my queen For once come fall in love with my soul” She heard what he uttered as a whole Kissed him on his lips “I love you no matter the broken ship” Smiled and later married the two Love stories are many, rare a few. © Dr. Prerna Singla, 27 MAY, 2015
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Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 8:28 AM UTC
A RARE LOVE STORY
I lick the snake bites on my thighs, call it healing. poison in my veins, in my head. wound's cold now, so am I. Prerna K
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Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 11:22 PM UTC
Cold
My puppet Feeds on Fame It stammers while remembering A handful of names She sleeps with her curtains Wrapping all her pain With strings made of nerves And warm days made of rain She can control All her thoughts And untouched soul Which remains hidden behind the plot She is a puppet And she sees with my eyes And understands with her brain And if she speaks of rebellion She would be abandoned And killed She would rather betray her dreams A character at last Amongst laughter and tears She would see them Cherishing her exploitation In stories she'd receive no love And appreciation Oh but she would live through. A flood for the emotionless A puppet. -Prerna Singh
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May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 12:43 PM UTC
Puppet
When the autumn dawns, Nosedive like a wither'd leaf, Fly with the pinions of air, From the terra firma Rise like a phoenix When the autumn dawns, Upswing like disrob'd tree, Robb'd of every bling, Uncloth'd But thriving still When the autumn dawns, Fly like windy breeze, In the clutches of Your hawk-claws, carry The moribund leaves and twigs When the autumn dawns, Settle like rich soil, Lose enough to let go, Strong enough to hold on. Dear Friend, When the autumn of life dawns, Carry aroint deceas'd past, Fly in a direction new Stand strong and recreate Thyself like a phoenix. Copyright Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 21 SEPT. 2015.
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Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 4:51 PM UTC
THE DAWN OF THE AUTUMN
Thy lips Like tasses of wine I taste Bitter n sweet Chilled By thy very nature Intoxicated I am By thou eyes so deep Strong n heady Like the touch of thy hands Taking over mine senses As I am drunk with thy love Not staggering drunk, but. . . Drunk enough to impair mine judgement in love. © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 15 JULY, 2015
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Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 6:28 AM UTC
INTOXICATING PLEASURES
The difference between the first love and the last love is like the difference between life & death. The former is the beginning, the later the absolution. - Dr. PRERNA SINGLA
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Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 4:48 PM UTC
Untitled
Once thither was an ordinary town, ordinary life & an ordinary man Peter his name and his wifey Rosanne I wonder those days how love survived? His dram brick house & a few chinks in a can. A day of labour with skin burnt to tan Reality surfac'd when struggles of life began No longer the lovely skin, time couldst not be bribed? Once thither was an ordinary town, ordinary life & an ordinary man. Cheap food, handmade robe, nay meiny to fan No ego, nay jealousy, working together in the plan No paint'd faces 'r artifice and yet their love thrived? Love - a soulful existence today cozen'd and lied. No riches nay leisure but an amicable life-span Once thither was an ordinary town, ordinary life & an ordinary man. © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 26 JULY, 2015
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Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 6:22 AM UTC
PETER & ROSANNE
Corpses adorn the war lands, The music of freedom can be heard. The air of the graveyards hymms the tune.. Freedom! Freedom! we sing... (C) Dr. Prerna Singla.
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Dec 11, 2017
Dec 11, 2017 at 2:11 AM UTC
FREEDOM
How shalt I express The love of the burning candle That burneth in the fire of adulations As the hours pass by My quiet eyes follow yours As if they understand everything thou convey As the hours pass by My skin feels thy delicate gestures As if the boredom caught upon the wings of fairytale As the hours pass by My heart hath the safe secure feelings As if I can sleep on thy shoulders f'r ever As the hours pass by My mind observes thy being As if thy being is a completeness of mine And as such the candle burns Day and night in thoughts of you I burn in silent adulations Adoring the quiet romance Of thy silent eyes. © Dr. Prerna Singla,15 Apr. 2015
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Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 3:26 PM UTC
LOVE OF BURNING CANDLE
I am an artist of love and I am painting a canvas over a canvas, A colour over a colour, A vision over a vision And a scenery over a scenery Thinking... That maybe someday I paint a perfect picture But every time I tried A colour merged with another A knife scrapped a brush stroke A vision embedded in another And the scenery lost its form 'Twasn't the one I had erased Nor the one I had planned Neither the hues of the past Nor the ones coveted by tomorrows But somewhere in the middle A blend of all. With the fragrance of fresh and old paint, A scenery with the meadows in hues of the sea A morning sky painted like a blue-black starry sky And somewhere in between the leaching colours Was my bleeding heart! Somewhere between the layers I was standing still in love. (c) Dr. Prerna Singla.
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Dec 11, 2017
Dec 11, 2017 at 2:31 AM UTC
IN BETWEEN THE LEACHING COLOURS!
"I don't fear falling. I fear stagnation." © Dr. Prerna Singla, 2015
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Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 3:47 PM UTC
Untitled