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(This poem is on the earthquake that people in Sikkim,India had faced on 18 September 2011. I was one among them too! P.S- on this very that is my brother's birthday! So i remember it more profoundly....just read on to find out more. Certain words mean the following out here-
MG MARG- MAHATMA GANDHI MARG.{Marg means street.}
LAL BAZAAR-refers to a marketing place in the capital of Sikkim,i.e,Gangtok)
MAAL ROADING-Maal road is generally found in most of the hill stations in India. But in my college, Maal Road has a different and funny meaning.)
DISCO COMMITTEE-refers to the DISCIPLINARY Committee in our college,which takes stringent actions against the guilty.)

18 was the date-
When a bunch of girls had decided
to travel through the city.
But I was the one who wasn't prepared,
As it was raining pretty heavy.
The girls planned to eat,roam and shop about,
through the MG MARG and LAL BAZAAR!
Fortunately for me due to some unavoidable circumstances
the plan got dropped....
And all I could see was girls making unbearable pouts!!

In the evening,
when people go out MAAL ROADING,
I went to the shop with a company
for buying a recharge card as done daily!
Though I bought it,
I somehow forgot to scratch it, I rather kept it inside my bag.

Strolling down the campus
We sat on the football field
Watching the players kicking the ball in glee
With their boots,shorts and tee!
At exactly 6:10 pm, there was a great turbulence,
which caused a whole lot of purturbence!
Yes, that was the 6.9 that shook us!
People running to and fro to save their lives,
some shirtless,some barefooted and some in towels!

With buildings shaking and cracking
there was nothing
but utter horror and shouting!
People seemed like Refugees,
With no phone networks to contact friends,relatives and families!
We were told to sleep with our room doors open.
But how could we when there were still tremors coming?
SHAKE! and people would be out on the streets!

Such a day it was, when Mother Nature had terrorised us!
Still the authorities couldn't help themselves from separating boys and girls!!
If they happen to meet each other,
They would have to face the DISCO COMMITTEE all together!

Huh!! When will you get rid off this mentality?
So that we can live joyous and peacefully!!!
Jenn Coke Feb 2016
Its length is known as “one year” by realists,
Also referred to as “anniversary” by idealists,
But “four seasons” is how I would like to call it
As with the passing of time I learn him bit by bit.

We met in front of Record Hall
On a rainy night and boy did I fall
For this one man named Timothy
Who approached me differently.

We first found each other online
But he was unlike the other swine
Looking for a body and easy ***,
Trying to buy me with their checks.

Plus, he did not follow the ordinary formula
Like “coffee sometime?” which is just so blah;
Rather, he proved that he had read my profile
Attentively, so I imagined he must not be vile.

He did not mention or imply anything ******,
So I started to credit him some trust accrual;
He opened us up by relating to my stories
And spoke smoothly with sarcastic ease.

I fell for his chivalry and charm
As well as his unstinted smarm,
His passion for engines and parts,
Never giving up until it all starts.

He won me over with his corny memes,
Matching weirdness, and future schemes;
His unfaltering boldness and fearlessness,
Manliness, and, in due course, closeness.

A spontaneous boy who does puzzles with me,
A romantic gentleman who invites me to the sea,
A free-spirited dude who is a spirits connoisseur,
An audacious chap who is a cooking amateur –

He has a nerdy side as he likes to figure things out.
He has a masculine side as he enjoys working out.
He has a brave side as he goes off-roading in his Jeep.
He has a sweet side as he pulls me closer in his sleep.

He slyly squeezes out my personal info
From myself and makes me go “Woah,”
As he discreetly plans adventurous trips
Which makes me want to ****** his lips.  

He is not afraid or disinclined to reveal his worries.
He is not abashed to update me on his **** stories.
He was not nervous about exposing his cover letter.
He was not anxious about taking me to his mother.

Weight? He does not ask me to gain any or lose.
Change? He needs not fix or loosen my screws.
He takes me as I am, not as a mechanical robot.
He finds sufficiency in all that I do and have got.

He does not care that I wear makeup or look like a dude.
He does not complain that I take long to finish my food.
He disregards that I do not adhere to societal standards.
He discounts that I occasionally think and act backwards.

He makes me relax and loosen up in his presence;
He emits a homely atmosphere and is my defense.  
Hell, we even start doing ***** lovey-dovey acts
Such as calling each other’s names in several packs.

He uses his witty senses to title my works,
Which, to other people, may stir up smirks,
But he does not give two ***** about them;
As long as we represent to each other, a gem.

We are compatible and agree in many manners;
We are avid Android users, not iOS supporters,
We take pleasure in dallying under the covers,
We enjoy mysteries and psychological thrillers.

We follow a handful of seasonal anime together
And we tend to swiftly marathon them altogether.
We even have our own convenient organization
In times when we watch anime together in elation.

He asks, “wanna watch” when there is an update
And picks a title; I agree and say “ready” and wait;
He says “go,” I thumb him, we watch simultaneously;
Then, whoever finishes first sends a thumb amiably.

He tries to pass time with me after work so demanding
So he sometimes falls asleep and leaves me hanging.
However, he impresses me in still choosing to be dutiful
All the while exhibiting humanness, which is beautiful.

I am pleased that we have similar likes and interests,
Glad that both tally with “real love will stand any tests,”
Blessed that both are open to expressing affection,
Thankful that we are looking in the same direction.

Even apart, I admire his strong patience,
Extending over many hours and nations!
Oh, I almost forgot – he is also tall and fit;
The more I think, he has it all – you name it!

The list of what I love about him keeps growing,
With things to cherish constantly overflowing;
I cannot expect more or imagine anyone better,
So I find myself dedicating to him this love letter.

Gosh, how I miss our sessions of wine and cheese,
Cinematic baths and interlacing, candlelit bodies,
Our woolgathering moaning and perspiring mess,
Many nameless moments and silent togetherness!

April 6, 2015, on OkCupid, he gave me a look;
April 11, 2015, he “friended” me on Facebook;
April 15, 2015, he suggested meeting up to study;
April 18, 2015, he dated me and became cuddly.

All this from last year… one year forward, today,
We are still together and have not gone astray –
As long-term and long-distance partners, we are
In the hardest, yet happiest, relationship by far!
I miss him, my other half, my home, very dearly.
I am thankful for his being, loving, and waiting for me.
Redshift Feb 2013
If you find me broken by the road
Don't put me back on track.
That's what got me here in the first place
And I'm not going back.
Instead, give me an encouraging word
A pat on the shoulder,
A smile.
That'll help me get by on my own
If only for a little while.
aria xero Oct 2015
Waves.
Swirling pools of salted tomorrow
Lapping away moonlit sand.
Scorched wood burned new acquaintances
As carmelled smoke rose to the heavens.
Fabric embraces heated with warmth of
Liquid confidence, the night shone with rings .

Dunes.
Massive excitement tumbled across layers of
Memories now particles against the sun.
Laughter abundant outstretched to heights
With stomachs knotted flown like birds.

October yeilds rays of joy
New love cascading thoughts
Surprises await dawn for the future.
cheryl love Jul 2015
I have music in my head
A beat of a particular sound
Is it my blood rushing through my veins
Strumming my chords or have I found
some other percussion in me instead.
Whether I trail downstream to the pool
or to the purple prickly moors
My music goes with me
Beside me and behind closed doors.
It sings to me heart, a rhythm downloading
my thoughts to the breeze.  Wafting to the wind
blasting in the lanes as I go off roading
in my little jeep with rickety floors.
Bumping and grinding it does
behind closed doors.
Sydney May 2014
Doors slamming
And people yelling
Are two sounds that I
Prefer not to hear
Dark water
And boats
Make me feel
Afraid
Fire works
Pop Pop Pop
I ******* hate fireworks
They're stupid
And loud
And bring up bad memories
And on fourth of july
I hear those fire works
Coming from every direction
I sink deeper into myself
But out of my body
Away from everyone and myself
Forget forget forget
Then I feel selfish for wanting to forget
None of my friends understand what these things do to me
I'm sorry for not going to the beach at night
Or wanting to sneak into abandoned buildings
I'm sorry for crying when we went off-roading in your jeep
I'm sorry all I want to do is sit in my bed
And watch movies to distract myself from the
disturbing thoughts in my head
POSSIBLE Jul 2020
Mmm...

Every soul is a raindrop
fall from sky to ocean
most hit the surface
to ripple and fade
but some ripples
(rip) become waves
so careful when
you be willing this villainess  script
the 97 igrets no regrets
so often we split
universe forging and smith
an I’m off to Egypt

mind morbid
sometimes
****** silly
sight been
searing
****** psilocybin serum

<Mythicalifornian/ation>
might have been
a son of Sam
but now I happen to hope
he’s found **** - luminous scope
rather sacrificial lamb
to roll up and ****

fingers like spiders
re-twisting helix like twizzlers so no outsiders
untwisting logic like Cicero updated outdated drivers
no ****
no really though
that’s dope
like holy diver
****-lighted self

sun is well
moon caught
call it a moonwell
moon sought
call it a moonswell
how soon
call it a monsoon

(they buymoney’s well
they liefunnycreate hell)

Is it that I get consumed by my work
or work to consume the clerk

Is it that I’m a leader
or I preach to lead the self ;
either way overwork
cause we ovastand
what it mean
To be a conscious being

I lord over time
it doesn’t lord over me
got that **** on lock
honest priority

with no real priors
been Skirttin on roads
with no real tires
I’m running I’m running so often off-roading incoming
I'm running I’m running I’m tired Im scratched

but see now we off the path
calc'ing chaos math sacred shapes and 'ometries

'Grow the mountain
'GGrow the trees

Mind and body manifest these
8 them mushrooms drank the tea
Found God and Action make the Free

...still eyes on shadow to oversee
see how’s that **** float over me
winding warping whisper free
darkness cold and forming we
mark of clover safety  be
but
safety make me nobody
stop
and I take one breathe

what is the difference
simmer.the.inference
silent.the.ignorance  
in
out
****.am.I.limitless
talking.is.frivolous
stop.by.pay.stimulus

Ganesh (shout)
shout....
refresh my syllabus (what’s about)
image of synthesis (written down)
**** I’m mischievous (ima clown)

breath in
breathe crown

Jesus (sing)
and it’s all around

redeem my sinfulness
(the talk and the walk)
sparing my infamous
guide all my kinfolk when
I’m lost in indifference
pray for deliverance

brothers and sisters we gotta ask
what’s the cost of the difference
[w]hen Liminal's lost is the difference?

my only preference, reverence-evidence
of my life and all of my testament, prevalent

{Discipline and Chaos}
develop the eminent american-experiment
Never-lose scope ; envelope intelligent sentiment

my, my design
down so close
finger prints shine
passing the fine approach
what’s broached when l align
chaos and order impose in my mind







̴̨̠̖̊͜Į̷̰̗͍̮̼̼̲̥̆͊ṋ̶̣̞̳̲̖͈̤̘̜͌͌͒̈́ṫ̴̨̢̧̠͍̩͈̻̥̞̿̇́͊̊e̸͌̅­̛̼͈̜̱͎̯̗̺̹͈̆l̶̢͍̗̞̱͔̣̅̑͌͑̇̚͝l̸̫̜̼͍͔̘͙̫̍̈͋̿͐̑̎͝͝i̸̡̛̠͚͉̫͚̝̦͔g̴͌̈́̕͝­̥̬̰̰̹̋ȩ̷̭̳̳̳̹͕̖̌̇͌͋̀̒͗̓̈́͜͠n̴͚̲̭̥͙̫̺̄̓͗̂̄̈́̈t̵̜̦̲͎̣̠̿ ̸̛̰̺͔̭̼͈͆̓̊̒̓d̴̡̛͓̺̭̥̗͚̃̄̌̒̃̅͐͒͋ě̶͈̗̭̥͔̒̾̍̒͛͝͝ş̴̛̮͚̥̝͓̙͊͂̔̿́̄́̄­̰í̸̧̺͚̬̹̫̮͖̬̱͒̀g̴̨̨̭͉̺̮͚͊̌̆̽̕ṉ̴͓͚̭̥̘̖̲̲̋͛̀.̴̘̙̘̣̮̣̙͉̺͔͆̕
trauma healed
now I’m ******* rediculous
how the **** can I think of this
off the cuff with my instantaneous
transmission of knowledge
but some are to slow
hear it as words
one by one
when I’m speaking feathers and flight
dove by dove
and drove by drove
from coast coast and coast to cove
Hannah Mar 2020
Time to the time of the roading
The road of reading
The road of fragment
Do we know her?
Yes certainly you do!
The path she the roading
Road to where
Road from development
Ice of course
The green
Inhale the nature
The here of the time
Time among time
Until the death
The thoughts by others
The international time of the path
Develop of the road
Unknown
Yet recover by the mystery
Others twisted in the different
The greatest
The proud
The known
Alive
The waving of time knife
Ready to the time of the ready 
red ink
The play of it
Typed March 31, 2020
In notes at 2:08 AM
I accidently breathed life into the beast that has always seemed to reside deep down inside.
Where my patience is already short supplied.
My sorrow can't ever truly be denied.
Eyes filled with tears that I haven't yet cried.
Where am I going to next I cannot decide.
I may just go ahead and ride the pride,
breaking through to the  other fuclimg side so my cousin I can see.
Him and the rest of my deceased family.
I stand among the debris.
myself I am trying to run from me.
Tomorrow coming holds no gaurettee.
The  only thing that I could ever hope to be is just pain old me.
LOnging to be ******* free
This sinister darkness is ******* foreboding.
feel like I should be exploding.
I am already over loading,
******* hardcoding til I went off roading.
was smoking just floating.
To me this is ******* coping
that is until I start choking.
I am just hoping
the demons I am not provoking.
Surely I am not invoking.
I don't say that lightly for I am not joking.
Promoting their possession of my damaged soul
I travel on to the places even my angels fear to go
I have a feeling that I belong way down way down below.
I'll admit that loud is my rock and  roll I constantly rock this bowl.
so apparently I am no where near being in control.
Im so broken I cannot be whole.
I have been impossible to console.
Then while praying out loud I heard it echo.
Why is I am here in this hellhole.
Armed only with a couple  bullets and  Daddy's pistole.
So don't you be an *******.
Into **** near everything I pour heart and soul.
I jump down another rabbit hole trying to catch that troll.
The horizon is already all aglow.
Did you not ******* know that end up that much more corrupt, I am cold.
This is a demented and perverse Fairytale that has already been told.
Matter of fact it getting rather old.
No questions were asked and there were no lies sold.
Like laundry I know right when to fold.
My ride or die has already died as he rode.
Cracks in my moral code. Life on this dirt road.
You don't have to tell me I know that I am throwed.
I always I end up sitting alone in **** dark,
trying to create a ******* Spark.
So I can watch myself as I stab myself with Jagged pieces of your broken heart. I am waiting on this journey that on which I'll soon embark.
I think It was somone in the hierarch
that to no one else could make an off/ handed remark.
There wasn't one person he didn't appear to outsmart.
It was pretty much his trademark.
My granny is our matriarch.
A Monarc from the trailer park.
Laughing like a loon I have gone mad as in raving stark.
I will not miss my mark,
From generation to generation this knowledge the elders did impart.
Keeping us prayed up on our way back up right from the start.
Feelings serverd now alicart.
I thought I was in prime position to fall apart
Losing myself in the nefarious dark.
My path needs illiumanating someone please light up my dark steps
help me not to be stressed.
I don't need to be obcessed.
MY true self I have surpressed.
I *******  confess
I am nothing but a hot mess
These crazy thoughts infest  
as the truth's hard to digest.
Burning down in the protest
The matriech I was meant to protect.
Now it's save your own *** that 100% in effect.
Spirits from the past I attempt to ressurect
So with the ones I sincerely missed I can soon connect
I wish I could do it imn a manner that was more direct
I don't know it was I did ******* expect
I only brought them back with  much love and respect
Even though my secrets are being safely kept
Still in a few days I haven't yet slept
I am more than a little wrecked
Emotionally broken in every aspect
on my traumatic past I reflect
I am in fact the suspect
on a rather touchy ******* subject
I am feeling pretty **** inept
I think maybe I need God to intercept
Outside my mind I have stepped
This is something I can accept
Over this unbearable pain I have wept
These memories from the past I try to eject
off into space I blast like a space cadet
perfect I **** up, I am a **** up perfect
I am sure I am one that won't be easy to forget
At making things worse I am indeed quite deft
The weight of the world on my shoulders I try to heft
What to expect from someone who's went this far left
The pain in my brain has been etched
The situations far to complex
The sorrow a ******* side effect
Wading in the pool of past regret
looking back in retrospect
smoking the day's last cigarette
while my thoughts I try to recollect
sandra wyllie May 2020
like life turned back to normal
on this hot summer day. People crowed
together like oysters on the half-shell
primed for eating whole after sitting

on the ice. A little tabasco
is nice. I, red as the pepper
sauce waiting for the toss back into
the thick of things. Wasn’t it a

sour spring. And I, flying this summer
off-roading like a Hummer. For the past months
cooped up like the chickens in their cages
waiting to sit next to the mashed potatoes.
Ryan O'Leary Nov 2020
The windscreen wipers on Irish
vehicles are not symbiotically
in ratio with the rhythm of rain.

It's only at cow or rail crossings one
finds sufficient time and vision to
read what has been index fingered
on the backs of mud splattered trucks
while they were stopped on the RED.

Number protruding license plates are
already illegible, brake lights and tail
lights dimmed by that friendly dirt that
sticks like a stray dog would to you.
Impossible to discern which are which.

Indicators, but for flashing, could
be those of a Sacred Heart lamp.

    "Mobile Library Rural Service "

Elevated enough from the road to have
escaped the back wash of tandem axle'd
wheels with tyres treaded sufficiently to
pass the warrant of fitness thus capable
of ejecting sullied slime high enough into
the air to efficiently tarnish at least a four
car tail back on the medieval roading system.

At least, there was a piece of graffiti, or be
it moving art (albeit unfinished) to read.

                   I tried to join Men-
            -sa but my Haiku was a
                      wee bit too lo
louella May 2022
you like the wild type
rides in your car
lipstick stains on your leather seats
beer breath
headbangers playing guitar
tiny skirts
playful smirks
driving 100 miles in a 70
tabletop dances
soft fingertips
bloodshot cherry red eyes

but honey,
i spend my days in bed
dreaming of love,
butterflies and honeysuckles
my shorts are not too short
i don’t gaze longingly at random men
in public
i listen to boy bands
don’t leave lipstick stains
in stranger’s cars
i get to know people first

you like the wild type
but you could always give me a try
i can be wild in some ways
like going camping
and kissing for a few seconds
tackle me in the haystack
hold me like you wish you
never would have touched anything else
we don’t need late night ***** sessions
after getting obliterated
we can share hotel rooms
and sleep in separate beds
to keep it cutesy
road trips across the country
off-roading
while obeying the speed limit
contentment spreading across the flowers
and it reaches the sky

you know,
i’m not the original wild type
but i can go wild and crazy for you anytime
nectar of the gods lyric. love ya Lana
5/29/22

— The End —