"pta" poems
Tere pyar ne mujhe pagal bna diya ,
Tujhme khoye hain hum es kadar ki,
apna nam pata bhi bhula diya,
Jawane Se chhupa ke ki tujhse mohabbat ,
Par tune mujhe jawane se hi begana bna diya,
Tere pyar ne mujhe pagal bna diya....
Tere intezar me har pal ji raha hu ghut ghut
ke,
kaha chali gayi ** sanam tum mujhse ruth ke,
ab to jine ka sahara hain bus teri ye yadein,
Soch kar biti baton ko nam ** jati hai meri ye
aankhen,
Teri wafawon ne mera sab kuchh jala diya,
tere pyar ne mujhe pagal bna diya. ..
chalti raho me tujhe dhundh raha hoon,
chand taro se tera pta puchh raha hoon,
tune mere dil me ek jagah bna liya,
tere pyar ne mujhe pagal bna diya....
mat dena dhokha tum mujhe pyar me
ai sanam nahi to tut jaunga,
chhod tumhe mai es duniya se chala jaunga,
laut ke phir mai kabhi na aaunga,
tere esk me maine teri har kamiyo ko bhula
diya,
tere pyar ne mujhe pagal bna diya. ..
yaadon ko teri Manish likh raha apni kalam se
es tarah ki,
teri nafrat ko bhi usne amrit bna diya,
tere pyar ne mujhe pagal bna diya,
tere pyar ne mujhe pagal bna diya....
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
Kis gunah ki saja tumne mujhe diya...?
Ban ke bewafa tumne pyaar ko badnam kyon kiya....?
Mila tumse mohabbat karne ka sila mujhe,
Jite ji tumne mujhe ye judai ka zahar kyon diya...?
Na karte pyar kabhi bhi tumse agar pta hota mujhe judai ka gam,
Karke mujhe akela, kahan chale gye wo bewafa sanam,
Kya duniya ki yahi reet hain...?
Pyar aur Judai me aksar kyon judai ka hi jeet hain....?
Kis janam ka badla sanam tumne mujhse liya...?
Karke ghayal dil ko, mujhe akela yu chhod diya,
Ab to ye duniya mujhe tane mar rahi,
Kabhi laila majnu to kabhi heer ranjha ki pyar ki kahaniya suna rahi,
Ja bewafa ja khush raho uske sath jise tumne apna bna liya,
Dard dekar mujhe jo mere dil ko
DARD -E- DIL bna diya,
DARD -E- DIL bna diya.....
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum behad khoobsurat **
Ye jo tumne akhon ke kajal ko b palko ki had me dal rakha hai.
In aankhon ne jane kitna kehar sambhal rakha hai.
Kya chamak hai aankho me jaise ek choti si khush duniya ka sapna paal rakha hai.
Socha cheru thoda tumhe or thoda sata du.
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum nazneen **
Phir kuch tumhare galon k un khaddo ki gehrayi dekhi.
Na us se gehri koi khaayi dekhi.
Nazar htane wala tha k us muskan ne rok lia..
Muje aj sambhalne se pehle tere chehre nadan ne rok lia.
Jane tumhe ye sab kehna lagta hai khata kyu.
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum dilnashi **
Vo choti si kali bindi jo thik maathe k me kahi hai.
Vo b har shayar ko kheench rahi hai.
Jaise muje kehti ** idhar aao tumhe kano k jhumko ka pta du.
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum dalkashi **
Ye phir thode uljhe thode suljhe baal hai.
Inki to ada hi bemisal Hai
Tumhe tang karte hai.
Manmarji chalate hai jaise tujse jung karte hai.
Chere pe aate hai tum unhe phir peeche karti.
Kabhi clip se kabhi rubber se kheenche rakhti **
Kabhi aaye chehre pe to shayad main b hta du.
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum koi kehkasha **
Or vo sone ki nath ko koi
kaise taal sakta hai.
Jise tumne apni teekhi si naak me daal rakha hai.
Or kuch batein in sab se pare hai.
Tera chutkan sa Gussa hai jane tu kaise handle kare hai.
Phir vo pyari si hasi vo sharm haya vo bachpana vo nadaniya.
Samjhdari vo nasamjhi
Vo adayein vo shaitaniya.
Or sambko tumne brabar rakha hai.
Jane ye hisab kaise lagakar rakha hai.
Kya kehna hai kya sunna hai kya bolna hai kya btana.
Kab ruthna hai kab manana hai kab satana hai kab jatana hai.
Teri har ek choti moti khoobiyon ne dil me aatank macha rakha hu.
Jane tune kitne salo se khud ko ishq se bacha rakha hai.
Jane mujme kab se or kyu ye thode guroor k lakshan aaye hai
K tuje suna sabne hai samjh sirf hum paaye hai.
Tum jaisa or koi mere aas paas ni hai.
Phir kaise manliya jaye tum aam ladki ** tum me kuch khas nahi hai.
Ha aj maine ek kadam apne beech ki sarhad se thoda bahar aaya.
Tumne apna hunar azmaya tha vo pic dalke use shayri bnake maine apna hunar aazmaya hai.
ye padhke tum socho k inam du is shayar ko ya koi saza du.
Are tumhe dekha aj to lga ye sab tumhe bta du.
Haq hai nhi mera koi phir b thoda haq jata du ..
Or kehdu tum afreen **
Tum khoobsurat **
Sep 12, 2020
Sep 12, 2020 at 1:20 AM UTC
Mann hi mann sochti hoon..
Ke kash tere aane jaane ka pta hota.
Toh phir mae tujhe rok kr kehti...
Tham ja, zara sun toh mujhe,
Aa chl aaj thoda ek doosre ko jante hai,
Samajhte hai, ke har badalte mausam mae tu
itna khoobsurat kese ban jata hai?
Zara samjha toh, kese tere aane se kisi ki zindagi khushaal aur kisi ki khamosh ** jati hai?
Aey waqt chal aaj thodi si guftagoo krte hai.
Kuch sawal jawab krte hai.
Aey waqt zara aaj do pal mujhe bhi deja.
Kuch tu mujhe sunata ja aur kuch mujhe sunta ja..!!
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 10:08 AM UTC
Waqt bhi kitna khubhsurat hai ,
Aate jaate logon ki duniya ujaad deta hai .
Kehte hain waqt saare ghav bhar deta hai ,
Asliyat tou ye hai waqt dard ke saath jeena sikha deta hai .
Do pal ki hai ye zindagani ,
Na do kisi ki ankhiyon mein paani.
Jo lamhein hain chaliye muskurakar bita le,
Jaane kal zindagi kaun se mod par lakar khada kar de .
Kya pta kal saanse hi tham gayi ** ,
Kitna bhi pakad lo .
Fisalta jaroor hai ,
Ye waqt ki fitrat hai yaaro badalta jaroor hai.
Band ghadi bhi din mein do baar sahi samay btati hai,
Man se na haarna aye dost meri tumse gujarish hai .
Maidan se haara dubara jeet sakta hai ,
Man ke haare haar hai man ke jeete jeet hai .
Waqt kahega har baar main lautkar na aaunga,
Khuda Jaane wo hasayega ya rulayega.
Waqt har chiz ki parakh sikha hai jaata ,
Kisi ke khatir ek pal bhi nahi hai theharta.
Waqt ne kisi ko jina sikhaya hai,
Waqt ne sach ka aaina dikhaya hai,
Waqt ka azuba dekho yaaro,
Kisi ko raja tou kisi ko rank banaya hai,
Waqt ne hamara ahamiyat btaya hai,
Waqt ne hume kaanto pr chlna sikhaya hai,
Jisne bhi waqt ko gale lagaya hai,
Use waqt ne us aasmaa jaisi uchai pr pahuchaya hai,
Kitni azeeb baat hai,
Waqt se din waqt se raat hai,
Aaj shaam hai tou kal savera bhi hoga,
Success bhi milegi aur danka bhi bajega,
Waqt ki ahamiyat ko jo log bhul jate hai,
Ant me sirf whi log aansoo bahate hai,
Rote hua es duniya me aate hai,
Vyarth jivan jikar rote hue chale jate hai....✍
Collaboration by Manish Shrivastva and Sonia Paruthi
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 8:10 AM UTC
Nam ** jati Hai aankhey
Ye baat soch kar,
Kyun chale jate Hai log
Aksar kisi ka dil tod Kar,
Jite Zindagi bhi ban jati maut us din
Jis din chale jate wo Pal kisi ki saans ban Kar,
Khele jate Hai es duniya me
Dil ka zajbat ban Kar,
Dete Hai dhokha yaha log aksar
Kisi ka khaas ban Kar,
Sabko pta hota Hai anjaam pyar ka
Phir kyon rote log kisi se pyaar Kar,
Pyar andha hota Hai phir
Kyon pyar karte log surat dekh Kar,
Jinka pyar sachha Hai wo
Amar ** jate Hai Mar Kar,
Ghut Ghut ke Ji rha hu
Mai ab zinda lash ban Kar...
Ek zinda lash ban Kar...
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 7:12 AM UTC
city in the shadow of a mountain
like denver on vacation
shady and deep
flowing down like the river
seeking centre
houses cling to the crags like barnacles
inverted ship cavity
jutting out of the rainforest
paradise of truants and travellers
eternally in transit to islands and misfit fringes, cold floors and warm couches
and displaced ***** enthusiasts
sailors without floatation
treading land and bills and PTA meetings
cast off travellers on their way to golden gates or northern lights
rivers under troubled bridges
fish suffocating underwater
living on the refuse of the nuclear generation
transmuting the lead into sustainable energy
recycling the atmosphere into breathable air
apathetic anarchists return from extremity
living on the dole
or working for the man
we are building something greater than this
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
Maa, kya tj pta h
Tri beti ko yha kse jeena pdta h
Ghrpe tu jse mj jgati thi
To koi b chinta mj na satati thi
Yha tri bht yaad aati h
Pr phr b tri beti khud ko smjhati h
Sone k phle aakho se aasu aa HI jaata h
Kuki yha ka akelapan mj bht satata h
Bht jhoota h ye jha
Aasan ni rhna yha
Hr Mod pe ek nayi chunauti aa jati h
Mgr tu preshan mt **
Tri beti tjhko HI yaad krke sbka saamna kr paati h
Maa ku ni h tre jse sb
Kuki pta ni chlta kon yha dhoka DE jaaye kb
Or papa.. Tumhari pari tumko b bht yad krti h
Jb b tumhari yaad aati h.. Ye aakhe ro pdti h
Me tumko dikhati ni ki akeli hn ME yha
Plz tum mj le jaao na aap sbka saath mil ske jha
Ku wapus ni aa jaate vo din
Jb b tumahri pari preshan hoti thi
Uske saath uske Papa ki himmt hoti thi
Yha to bs roti rh jaati hn
Tumhara intezaar krti rh jaati hn
Koi b mere paas ni aata
Isliye kai baar dil sehem sa h jaata
Bhai.. Tri vo ladai yaad aati h
Jo mj rote wqt b hsa jati h
Or jb Tra, mera US trha dhyan rkhna yaad aata h
Vo hste wqt b mj rula jaata h
Is Hostel ki zindgi ne sbko door kr dia hai
Or Bs hr mode pe akela krke cchod dia hai
Kaash bdi HI na hoti ME
To ab b PAPA ki vhi pari HOTI ME
Maa ki vhi laado hoti ME
Bhai ki vhi shararti bhn hoti ME ..
Jun 22, 2020
Jun 22, 2020 at 11:41 AM UTC
Pyaar to kai trha k hote h
Mgr na jaane hmara ye ksa pyaar h
Pyaar k to kai naamo ko ME btadu
Magar smjh NH aata ki hmare is pyaar ko ME kya naam du
Jo kbhi hsata h to kbhi rulata h
Kabhi naraj krta h to kbhi mnata h
Or jb shk krta h to uske agle hi Pal khud se jyada ykin krne lgta h
Agr khuda b aa kr hmare is pyaar ko byaan krne ki koshish kre to shyd vo b nakamyab **
Kuki hmara pyaar vo nhi jo lfzo ME byaan **
Pta h mera dil bht ziddi h.. Hmesha ek hi zid krta h
Khta h ki vo tumse milna chahta h.
Tumhare kareeb hone ka ahsas mhsus krna chahta h
tumhari baaho ME jo sukoon milta h vo sukoon mhsus krna chahta h
Tmhari aakho ME aakhe daal k tumse bt krna chahta h
Tumhara haath thamna chahta h
Lekin me usko daat k chup kra deti hn
Mgr kya kru yr apne aasu rok NH paati hn
** ske to Mj cchor k kbhi mt jana
Kuki agr tum mj cchor k chle gye to me apni rooh ko NH smjha paungi ki ab b jism ME ruk jana
Agr Tmko mjse door jaana b pde to khud ko kbhi akela mt smjhna
Me US lmha tmhare aas paas hi hongi mj mhsus kr k dkhna
Hr Pal dr lgta h tmhe kho dene se
Mgr phr khudko smjhati hn ki is janam nhi to kya hua, agle janam kon rok skta h tmhe mera ** dene Se
Me nh janti ki hmara saath kb tk h
Mgr itna jaanti hn ki hmari rooh ek tb tk h suraj chand jb tk h..
Jun 22, 2020
Jun 22, 2020 at 11:37 AM UTC
Wake up
Get my son ready for school
Say goodbye to my husband
Walk my son to the bus stop
Walk home
Sweep. Mop. Scrub.
Go out and get my tire pressure checked
Stop by the post office
Go home
Walk to the bus stop
Walk home with my son
Schedule next PTA meeting
Cook dinner
Husband returns home
Eat dinner
Put son to bed
I kiss my husband
We are too tired to get intimate
We fall asleep next to one another
Both proudly grinning
We've done it
We've destroyed the sanctity of marriage
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 1:01 AM UTC
Let out my ego and sense of order this comes from beyond this comes from the me between me if I listen I may hear it speaking, it's sleeping but talking and rocking, not still, and perhaps it awakens, perhaps it will open its eye but we mustn't depend on the idea that once he has opened his eye the whole dream of the world will just fade like my dream tomorrow morning which I already know I'll forget, like specific angles and perspectives of specific places in space and time that have slipped away but once in a while break through to consciousness
Like the sliding breakaway walls of Timber Drive elementary school
Or the rippling pond into which I fell and the old smile and laugh of my flesh and blood rescued me and held my body afloat in the air for a moment; and once I was the proud owner of a wind powered hovercraft, another invention spilling out onto the table of attention like the actual pig intestines the popular girl's parents used in her science fair project, the one that dragged on until the last monkey refusing to be locked up with the windows 98s in the archaic computer lab was tranquilized and convulsed on the gym/cafeteria floor in front of the PTA, who'd peed blood all down the front of their sweatpants; he was firing wildly hoping to commit suicide by zookeeper
Not knowing that humanitarian laws would prevent him from achieving his bliss, for the monkey knew as the Gnostics did that to bring a child into this black iron prison is a sin.
Did the Jonestown Kool-aid free them from the prison? Do they now walk among gods within the kingdom of the heavenly spirit? None shall know until the 13 crystal skulls are re-assembled and total gnosis emanates to the people in globe-spanning shockwaves.
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 9:08 PM UTC
Ve tu ta soch vi ni sakda,
Ki kinna pyaar kardi haa.
Mahiya mere jaan hai tu meri,
Mai sirf haa teri sirf teri.
Teri je na hoyi kade kisi di ni hona,
Tere bina assi el pal vi ni jiyona.
Tu hove jado mere naal hove bahaar,
Tere bin eho ji zindagi vi bekaar
Ankha kholla te tu samne hove,
Tere ch vasdeya mera khuda ve.
Tere naal meri rooh rang di,
Taitho mai tainu hi mangdi.
Chal assi ek sohni duniya vasaiye,
Tu hai meri taaqat mere mahiye.
Jiyona marna hai naal tere,
Teri dadhkan hai saddi saans sajna mere.
Mai rabb nu vekheya nahi aye,
Mere layi khuda tu hi ve.
Mai kinna tenu chauhni mai,
Eh baya mai kar sakdi nai.
Har saah te sajna naam tera,
Jado jud jave tere naal naam mera.
Zindagi da sab tou sohna din ve,
Mainu le jaye doli ch jaan meriye.
Hathha ch mehndi hove tere naam di,
Ghodi leke aaye le jawe sajni aapdi.
Paira ch jhanjhar chan chan chanakdi,
Laal jode ch dulhan ohdi pari lagdi.
Mere sohneya teri jaan tenu yaad kardi,
Meri ankhiyan sirf tehnu labhdi.
Supna banke mil jaunda hai raatan nu,
Ardaas kardi mai khush rawe har vele tu.
Mere hathhan di khushbu tere hathhan ch,
Ja milau os rabb ne sohne lekh injh.
Is zindagi ch jiyone jinne saah sajna,
Tere naal hi leni kardi sajda.
Seene naal laake har lenda har dukh,
Tere hisse ch karde rabb mere har sukh.
Har janam mai tere naam kar deya.
Saaha tou piyareya hai mera mahiya.
Rabb tou pehle tera zikar aunda ve,
Chand naal chandni raat naal taare.
Pta ni lageya tere naal dil laa baithhe,
Sacchiyan mohabbatan assi tere naal karde.
Preeta suchiyan ne,
Tenu har gal dasange.
Tere karke hi haa jiyondi,
Tenu hi har vele os rabb tou mangdi.
Rabb ne milaiya jodiya,
Tere naal hi hasdi teri mahiya.
Nov 13, 2019
Nov 13, 2019 at 8:53 AM UTC
Chle aao jana tumhara intzar abhi baki hai...tum aaoge jarur yeh aas abhi baki hai...rooth gyi nindiya jin aankhon se vo adhura sa khwav abhi baki hai...kah n payi jise un uljhe halat me us khasm-kash ka ejhaar abhi baki hai...bah chle sb aansu tanhai me un aankhon ki pyas abhi baki hai...ruk gye lfz jubaa..n pr aate-aate sunle ei musafir mere alfaz abhi baki hai...chaha tumhe shiddat se...mamga tumhe minnat se...miloge jis dua se vo ardaas abhi baki hai...nahi pta kb aaoge tum tumhare aane ka #ehsaas hi mere liy kafi hai.... Chle aao jana....intzaar abhi baki hai....
#sagat
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 10:36 PM UTC
Where I grew up
We didn't celebrate celebrity
And weren't slaves
to the cattle-drivers of the masses
Where I grew up,
We were just young
And free
We toiled on train-tracks
Inventing troubles requiring
A daring escape.
With our stick-strapped-satchels
We foolishly mocked the local bums
Jealous of their freedom.
Ignorant of their pain.
Imitation is the hallmark of love
And yes, we loved the bums
And we were thorough through it
Where I grew up
The incandescence of the late afternoon
And early morning suns
Drew in a vibrant orange
Cast as paint on pale walls
The apartment... and eventually... the house
Shone brighter for it;
Though it seemed to struggle less in a house
That was considerably more empty
Especially around the holidays.
Where I grew up
We were taught racial and radical equality
Exacted with extreme prejudice
At every pep rally and presumably PTA meeting.
And while neighboring towns held race riots
We were racing our bikes, well...
I do miss my rollerblades
Where I grew up
Every girl was pretty as a movie star
And chased the bad boys
Like in every story I'd ever heard
And those boys won by popularity and power of presence
Girls they never deserved
Where I grew up
In winter we built massive palaces
From the winter's teardrops that huddled together
For warmth after the plow
Where I grew up...
I grew up too soon.
A little more than a little at a time
And it became clear
I had to move.
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 5:59 PM UTC
Spare me from suburbia.
I hate the chatter.
And the cookie cutter houses.
And people worrying about what shade of Estee Lauder they need to look 20 years younger.
The bigger the SUV ...the better.
Yeah that's my saying too.
Oh yes it's Doggy Spa day! yippee.
Freakin morons.
Put your Gucci shades back on quick before you get to the underpass and see the man who fought for your freedom so that you can enjoy your Sushi on the right side of town, begging for anything you can spare.
But thats right you have nothing to give, do you.
I mean you couldn't possibly dip into the college fund for little Jessica, who by the way is snorting blow as we speak, in the projects across the tracks, while you think she is attending the high school pep rally, as all good cheerleaders do.
And you might want to slow down just a little bit, because if you reach your hubby's highrise office even just one minute ahead of schedule, Candy won't have time to push her skirt back down, wipe her mouth, and re apply her reading glasses, before you enter...and that would be a bit uncomfortable , don't you think?
Maybe you just better turn around altogether and head back to suburbia baby!
There's a reason you are called a stay-at-home mom.
It's the safest place for you...trust me.
Reality causes varicose veins and then you would need emergency laser surgery to correct it, which would interefere with your PTA meeting this afternoon.
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 7:01 PM UTC
Little Timmy Trashcan
Was born on a lonely day.
His mother had him and then
She threw Timmy away.
She never wanted children
She just wanted her man.
So, she got pregnant
And her man just ran.
Little Timmy Trashcan
Grew up nearly all alone.
A neighbor hired to feed him
So, he was all skin and bone.
His teacher tried to help
But the mother told lies.
She watched a lot of TV
And it made her PTA wise.
Little Timmy Trashcan
Much smaller than his peers.
Got beat on and ridiculed
For all his growing years.
No man was there to teach
How to stand up and fight
And his mother was busy
Going out almost every night.
Little Timmy Trashcan
Never made it to adult.
He lived beneath notice
And this was the result.
He learned how to vanish
And bother nobody much.
Little Timmy Trashcan
Died from no loving touch.
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 9:01 PM UTC
sms krne ke fayde
1.mai bhi khush
2.jise bheja wo bhi khush
3.yado ka silsla bna rhta hai
4.kon kanjus hai wo bhi pta chal jata hai
:-)
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 2:56 AM UTC
For Ricky*
Ricky Williams, Miami Running Back (2002-2003, 2005)
When the news broke and the camera pointed at a torn tent
on the outskirts of Miami where you sat knees-up-to-chest
professing enlightenment, the football world sacked itself
wondering how good your *** really was. Must have been
growing straight from Buddha’s back yard because to give
up 16 million like that, to go from bachelor pad demigod
to hippy hero of the pimply *** smokers, requires some
kind of unfathomable spirituality. I wonder if the Sadhu
could even find a desk big enough for your frame. All 230 pounds
lurching forward with brittle bones towards some kind
of endzone sanctity not represented by a smiling porpoise
but a transcendent 1st and ten where maybe you’d be happy.
After your final game I imagined you’d do what so many
washed up athletes do: find meaning in the parking lot
of a used car palace or open up a Dairy Queen, maybe
join your kids PTA and tell fourth graders stories that
you now half-believe. I didn’t think it be like this: you smoking
****** under a mauled tarpaulin, brushing fly’s away from
dingy dredlocks, running forward, exasperatedly free,
while a nation wonders why you’ve failed us.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 10:03 AM UTC
sing me a story
sing me a song
sing me old country
it's where I belong
so sing me a story
and I'll come along
sing me a story
an old country song
Are the lights still out in Georgia?
Is the man in black in jail?
How are things in old El Paso?
Sing a song and tell a tale
Did the devil win his fiddle?
How's the Harper Valley PTA?
Did they ever stop that convoy?
Is he loving her today?
sing me a story
sing me a song
sing me old country
it's where I belong
so sing me a story
and I'll come along
sing me a story
an old country song
Is there a red headed stranger?
What went off that bridge in June?
Did the gambler ever fold them?
What was howling at the moon?
Is Donna Fargo still that happy?
Do you smell whiskey in the air?
Is the circle still unbroken?
Is there an angel hiding there?
sing me a story
sing me a song
sing me old country
it's where I belong
so sing me a story
and I'll come along
sing me a story
an old country song
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 6:24 PM UTC
“A relationship with knowledge”
It was said in preschool classrooms,
Childish cafeterias and forgotten
Blissfully, on the monkey bars and jungle gyms
It was said to raging delinquents
Preached to a stuffy, shy girl
Busy pushing her glasses too close to her nose
Fidgeting around the corners of the library
It made its way towards teachers
And raucous PTA meetings
Each lobbyist far too adamant;
Ears drooped and beleaguered
A relationship with knowledge
Well
Who is this knowledge?
Does he play nice?
I think I met him, once
He smiled at me, dirtied- on the street
But I can’t really be sure
He seems to be awfully elusive
How silly, to make a relationship
With someone who never seems to show up
But maybe its not his fault
maybe we’ve ruined his fun
Watching us now, elbows dug into text
Bracing like bulls staring down cobbled streets
It seems an awfully aggressive stance
To take with company
It looks as if our teachers lied
We are trying to capture knowledge
Or I wouldn’t be the only one
To sit by the train tracks
Waiting for my friend to come along
May 11, 2012
May 11, 2012 at 3:16 PM UTC
It all started with an urge to go to the movie theater
PTA's "The Master"
It was a 35 minute walk to the nearest cinema in Brooklyn
Nighthawks is what it was called
1:10pm, 4:10pm, 6:10pm, 10:10pm, the show times
Since I woke up at 12:45am, 1:10pm was out of the question
4:10pm seemed plausible but when the clock rolled around I was still puttering around the house
I could putter no more by 6:00pm and flew the cooped up den
The air, brisk and crisp
Time fell back
Women's heels clap the sidewalk in applause
All for the autumn on a Sunday frozen in time
I arrive, show sold out
I walk across the Williamsburg bridge, why not?
First theater in Manhattan I see turned out to be live art
So I turned out and left
Manhattans alive while Brooklyn slumbers
I dart down Clinton St toward the old Avenues
November, I could go without the cold weather, but I love the seasons
Pumpkin lattes **** my wallet dry like lesions
Soon I'm walking down 2nd Av, feeling familiar with my surroundings
Funny, feeling familiar, in a city I thought I'd never know, (you'll never know if you don't go)
Got some dollar pizza on St Marks
Followed by a dollar falafel, which tasted awful, (now I know why it was a dollar)
I walked in circles around Union Square, in union with everyone there
Happy that my feet were to the street, where they belong
Freezing, frozen, frigid, shakin' in my britches
Wrapped around my neck a borrowed scarf
Bumping into people, "I'd like to get by now", like Garth
(keep moving, you'll find what you want to find)
In big bright neon light at Village Cinema
"The Master"
(In 70mm)
Huh, 70mm, "Cool", I thought
The theater, empty as a loners funeral
I was the only one there, red velvet lined seats
I missed Halloween
Maybe this is my treat
The world is beautiful
This city is mine,
All I had to do
Was leave my old one behind
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 2:40 PM UTC
My mother
now old
once long ago
put Miss Harper Valley PTA to shame
My mother
with a quick wit
and sharp tongue
built a reputation to keep her safe.
My mother
smoked ***
drank Blackberry Brandy
and raised three radicals alone when it just wasn't done.
My mother
looked for love
settled for security... but never for long
too high of a price.
My mother
devoured books
had an artists' soul
mixed with a black widows heart.
My mother
is trapped
between what she knows
and what she says.
My mother
is embarrassed, confused
and angry
refusing to yield as she always has.
My mother
needs me now
yet has too much pride
and doesn't want crude judgments.
My mother
taught me her best
(and worst) tricks
and I use them on her often.
My mother
is at the end of her life
keeping long promised answers
locked tightly inside her.
My mother
has never let anyone
understand her
but me.
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 7:37 AM UTC
Two pills to greet the morning
To wake up from the night before
Before the morning's over
There'll be at least four pills more
Her children never see this
Mother keeps her secret well
But, just in case she slips up
Father makes sure he, too. doesn't tell
Yes, Mummy is a pill freak
A suburban ****** in our midst
It's more common than you realize
I've names here to make a list
By ten she's popped two more pills
The kids are safely off at school
What the parents do not notice
Is that the children are not fooled
More pills again at lunch time
Then it's off for tennis at the club
Two more pills when she is finished
Just before her tan and rub
You see, Mummy is an addict
She eats pills like most eat cake
She's a really super actress
Miss one pill and she might break
Two years ago she had a problem
She was drinking, never touched a pill
Then she went to "camp" to dry out
that's where she found her brand new thrill
Daddy, he keeps her secret
lets her fool the PTA
You see, Daddy is her doctor
He makes sure that she's ok
The kids are home before mum
She's popped two to mellow out
She's the only mum their friends say
No ones ever heard her shout
Once the pills wear off, what is next
What addiction shall she feed?
She's tried ***** and now narcotics
What will help her fuel her need?
Daddy's mummy's little helper
Keeps her secret and his too
You see daddy has his own diversion
And she's only twenty two!!!
Jun 9, 2012
Jun 9, 2012 at 3:25 PM UTC
the osprey flys overhead, but the baby rabbit trembles not
~for any grandparent-poet lurking about~
the osprey overflies, a regularity scheduled patrol over
our backyard emporium and all its hors d’oeuvre creatures,
***** has parental responsibilities, beaks to feed, PTA conferences,
the pilot, a wary watchful animal-his-rights guy, catalogues their still living existentialism, for though they are not fish, his diet of preference, but in a pinch a rodent or rabbit stew will do, if the fish are running too deep for no warming sun beckoning them to the surface.
Motel^ the baby rabbit, who lives with his parents,
(who doesn’t these days?) beneath the deck,
chews the clover overnight sprung, blissfully i g n o r a n t,
unawares or ignoring the poet be-laureating (him-her) but a mere
few feet above and away, pays no attention to the Poppy’s (grandfather) lecture about the rules of the animal kingdom,
who, eats whom, and to be more attentive to flying raptors.
thunderstorms forecast for the afternoon, severe say
the textured textual phone-netical all green messages, which
of course is a signal signal to the sun his job is done and can
leave the untanned poet in his state of original sin, soooo deliciously
white that he earns an appraising glance from eyes of the osprey,
a privilege he would happily tan away to promote equality ‘n stuff like peace on earth.
Motel, with his thermometer-humidity nasal instrumentation twitcher, decides, after chewing it over most carefully, time to go underneath where the white half naked people domicile, in order to avoid bathing, not his fav pastime, but making the osprey quitter le ciel, which is French for get out of Dodge, they got babies of their own to shelter and protect, even feed.
The Poppy, contented, thinks to himself, god couldn’t be everywhere,
so he invented grandpas to be “En Loco Parentis” which
Does Not Mean Instead of Crazy Parents,
but easily could,
for who else writes
poems like this?
Jul 5, 2020
Jul 5, 2020 at 1:08 PM UTC
Kesi h y jindagi jha SB h bhi or koi b nhii ....
Ek ladki thii uljhii si...umeed.Lke Dil. m.dosti ki.....Pyaar Mila.pr dosti n mili na jaane wo logo m kisko dundhtii thiii. Apne Dil m bhre emotions k dher ko lke duniya bhtktii thiiii....Kya dundh rhi thi wo kch nya ya kch khoya huaa...
Dosti ki talash m pyaar k saare Nishan ko hta diyaa.....
Kya chahti thi wo....
Wo aajtk n samjh paayi kii.....Buri wo h ya bure log ya kch Orr
Jindgi bhr usne jisko b apna Mana usne use kbhi n Mana
Shydd ....PTA nii
Kyo hua esaaa. ...Kisi k pass jawab n shyd uske pass b nhii....
.Ek ldki thii uljhii si thodi masum thodi natkhat si man m Tha Sagar sa selaab ..pr logo ko boond b nhi milti thiii...
Mana khd thi wo insaan PR na jaane ki badlaav s drti thiii..
Roshni si chmk thi chahte p.pr na jaane ku Andhero s Tha pyaar
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 11:52 AM UTC