"scoldings" poems
Vicious desire becomes wild,
Heart pleads like a child.
Brain controls naughty heart
with scoldings stern and ****
but heart controls all sensations.
God! help me control temptation.
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC
For the first time,
When I saw her,
I don't know what her expression was,
All I knew was,
I was alive in a new world.
*With tiny little fingers I touched her face,
And her soft lips pressed against my forehead.*
And I for the very first time felt safe,
And secured in her arms.
*I was growing everyday,
From a day old baby to an older one.*
She was,
The first one to hear my voice,
Giggles, laughter and the cry,
The one who used to have sleepless nights,
The one who taught me to take the very first step,
The one who took care of me better than anyone else.
*The conversations we had,
We're less of words,
Yet more of understanding,
She understood me,
Without me explaining.*
Time was taking a swing,
And she had been watching,
*Watching me grow,
Watching me learn,
Watching me rise,
And yes, watching me fall.*
Falling, for me, was a big deal,
Yet she was the one to make me rise for once and for all.
The little arguments,
Her scoldings,
Her love,
Her smile
The little teamwork we did,
Were the most of which I enjoyed.
*For me,
She was my world,
And her arms were the boundaries where I would lie.*
This little angel grew up way too fast,
For her to realise.
This bond which I share with her,
Is on a never ending journey!
*No matter how old I would grow,
No matter how much a mess I am,
Yet the one person,
Whom I would always call upon,
Would forever be Maa!*
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 7:15 AM UTC
They once asked
If we looked forward
To trainings
Well I know
I do
On top of the
Cold regularity
That calms
On top of the countless
Hours endured
Under the sun
Like statues
There is one thing
I look forward
To
That is meeting
The lot of
You
Twice
A week
Two blessings
In five days
Of chaos
The seventh batch
The remaining five
Somehow
During those two
Or three
Hours of training
You guys somehow
Manage to take
All
That weight
Away
Introducing me
To new sound worlds
Teaching me
How to dance
Or just watching
And listening
To your amusing
Conversations
On all sorts of things
So
Open
Carefree
Not
Judgmental
No comparisons
And always
Each time
Each session
You'll never fail
To pull out
A genuine
Smile
Or
Laugh
From deep inside
This Abyss
One that cannot
Be contained
Or restrained
Or just simply
Watching the
Plain
Innocence
With all your kiddish
Knick-knacks
Just for a little while
It banishes
All that
Complexity
And through
All the gruelling camps
All the scoldings
All the punishments
The yelling
The pain
The standing
We still stuck through
You guys
May not know
How much it means
To me
To have such a platoon
Keeping me going
Through the tough times
When I really want
To give up
And give in
But just seeing
The five of us
Huddled together
In the smallest
Circle
Making small laughs
Small jokes
The complaints
The whining
It somehow makes things
Feel
Right
Pulling up that
Swinging end
Of the graph
Into a positive
Curve
At the end
Of the day
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 11:45 AM UTC
Good morning is what I say
when I reach my office at night.
All my friends and colleagues
look cool and bright.
Till 2 o'clock there is
work, gossip and fun.
After 2, the clock stops
and everyone peeps out for sun.
Bright shining faces
now changes to dull.
Changing environment
makes many lull.
My fatigued eyelids
becomes so heavy.
Now computer appears boring to me,
a computer savvy.
My sleep becomes wild
and starts playing game.
All my efforts with my
sleep goes in vain.
sleep wins the game,
I start my journey from hell to heaven
But a ghost interrupts my journey
with a shout all of a sudden.
I open my eyes to see my TL
who appears so cruel.
It seems he is going to burn me
with fire and fuel.
I put down my head in shame
and wondered why it happened to me.
I remembered, I used to laugh
at a bird who was wild and free.
I was sure it was
the curse of an owl.
It was result of my deeds
now I cannot cry foul.
After sometime sleep decides to play
with TL the same old game.
The result was no different
it was known and same.
My TL falls asleep while
browsing some computer files.
All around the floor
there were giggles and smiles.
All of a sudden he wakes up
as if he has seen some ugly ghost.
In dream TL's boss must have offered
him cockroach sauce and toast.
TL saw my smiles and his glasses
couldn't hide his murderous glares.
He looked at me as if I was a cactus
and made me sit upstairs
I was very careful because
very close TL's boss used to sit
He was a man who never smiled
and was very strict.
A young girl sitting beside me
had frog like bulging eyes
She was very quiet,
looking tired, dull and shy.
Poor innocent girl
repeated the same old mistake
Sleep tricked her,
she couldn't keep herself awake
Next moment there were
scoldings and shouts.
Hapless girl stood stunned
hearing boss's spouts.
If Allah Almighty can listen
to prayers of a bird
Prayers of an anguished heart
is sure to be heard.
Cunning sleep walked
knavishly on the floor.
All around the floor was
audible boss's noisy snores.
Entire floor stood up
to look at him with surprise
He woke-up abruptly
looking around with disgraceful eyes.
The shame was too much
for him to ignore or digest.
Hurriedly he took the keys
of his maroon car and left.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 5:52 AM UTC
There it sits
Waiting
Watching
It's a Yamaha
With a Union-Jack back
The last of it's
Kind
It's been a faithful companion
It came to me
When I was six
Not brand new
But second hand
Through all the tears
All the humiliation
All the pain
All the scoldings
All the belittlings
It stuck through with me
With sweat and blood
Shed on the keys
It didn't complain
When I threw
My tantrums
Banging the keys
Even kicking it once
Or twice
It just waited
And watched me
Till I calmed down
And felt
Stupid
After
I practised
Everyday
And not once
Did it
Complain
It has a really bright
Crystal clear
Sound
With this certain
Energy
And depth
I took great pride
In taking care of it
Polishing it
Every other day
Till it shone
Like a mirror
As time went by
One grade after the other
The practises became
Less and
Less
I didn't care for it
As much as I did
Before
A year passed
Then another
Now I'm fourteen
It's twenty eight
Or more
I've had my share
Of performing
On stage
With all types of pianos
But there was this
One thing
That was different
With my piano
Something it
Lacked
The sound is there
The energy is there
But somehow
When I compare the recordings
My dear piano
Just sounds
Tired...
The touch stickier
The keys start failing
On some days
It sounds
Muted
Always slightly off key
No matter how many times
The piano man comes
This is one patient
The doctor can't treat
Is it possible
That emotions
Can be transferred
To objects?
Has my raging
Over the keyboard
Tired it out
By having to
Express
What I play
And what I
Put
Into the pieces?
It's a piano
Of memories
Of thoughts
Of an inexpressable phenomenon
Called feelings
"Where words fail, music speaks"
I salute you
Dear piano
For allowing me
To express myself
Through the written pieces
You help
Materialize
We have grown together
Walked this long journey together
And with all the memories
Sweat
Blood
Tears
That has made me today
I won't part with
Till the very end,
Dear piano
So shall we continue?
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 1:07 AM UTC
I shall write of simple things.
I shall write of dark skies and
black dogs, gardens full of red
tomatoes and green spinach,
of small streets where children
walk through the haze of distant
summers. I shall write of mountains
and men, of the sea, of fishes and
porpoises and whales. I shall be
among the plains and write of
old ranch hands with gnarled
fingers and leathered countenances.
I shall tell of cities and concrete
and lies, of schools and scoldings,
of hurts and healings. I shall whisper
of things human, of love and lone-
liness, of suffering and supplication,
of tender moments and terror. I
shall write of the simple and profound,
for they are one, borne of the same
center, which we call infinity.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Jun 18, 2019
Jun 18, 2019 at 11:46 AM UTC
*Maybe this was the last time,
That we were together.
Maybe the smile on your face,
Was the last thing I saw.
Maybe the words you spoke,
Were the last thing I would be hearing from you.
Maybe the joke you cracked today,
Was the lamest,
Yet the only thing I would be carrying with me.
Can I get any more of any of it?
Gosh no!
**Can all this last forever?
And never end.**
So that we could still be together,
So that we could still be us,
So that we could still laugh like we didn't care,
So that we could still crack those silly jokes,
So that we could still be the last benchers,
So that we could still annoy each other,
So that we could still sing those random songs together,
So that we could still be the best team together.
When you were on the edge of failing a test,
And was still smiling,
Was the best part of it.
When PTM's were just like any regular days!
When scoldings,
were as normal as drinking a glass of water.
When eating your friend's lunch,
Was the best thing to do,
While you brought something you didn't like.
When snatching lunch,
Running all around the class,
And the fight for the last bite was like a war.
When early morning games in the assembly ground,
Was our favourite.
When the ugly fights between the game,
Were just meant to last for a few minutes.
When nicknames were wicked.
When benches had a line drawn on them,
Assuring ones territory.
**Those memories,
Those times,
Can't we just freeze it?**
So that we could still be the best together,
And look at each other the way we did before,
And still ****** each others lunch,
And run, up and down the beaches,
And still have the same fun.*
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 11:36 AM UTC
To where do those memories go?
My and your soft lips meeting.
Exchanging values and ideas.
But like a conversation gone bad, you had no place in it.
Helpless.
A genius walks a lonely path.
Did our parents really ever "get" us?
Or were they just unfit to even bear the name.
Scoldings, put downs and assaults.
And the result is a childhood of treachery and miscommunication.
Misunderstood.
A genius walks a thorny path.
Where does a broken child learn they are special?
Feelings of inferiority build architectural grand designs of mental illness and rotting relationships.
And who really survives growing up?
Except me.
Childlike.
A genius rejects adulthood to walk as a child.
Why do the divine watch us?
Is it to see us suffer? To overcome the pangs of suffering and torments?
Is it truly a godlike quality to forgive? When will that be me being taken advantage of?
I know when.
Solid.
A genius gathers no moss.
Will death come? Am I to respect such a thing?
Why would his hand touch so closely my throat, my brain and my heart.
Are the dreams messages containing factual information? Guides on life?
No, they teach us what we should be to death.
Respectful.
A genius bows his head to the dead.
What is the emptiness and fullness meant to be?
Will full people live on. Scraping by on whatever happiness chance chooses to make them aware of?
Will empty people believe all belief and concept is empty? A form of solipsistic ignorance of both destiny and loved ones.
To become full and empty.
Reborn.
A genius lives to burn, burn out and be brought back to life again.
What is a genius? From the brain of a genius? Eyes that can see through fraud and deception. Including ones own.
Mar 4, 2021
Mar 4, 2021 at 11:04 PM UTC
Sweet nectar trickles down my chin,
The knife slips in sticky hands,
A nibble here, a lick there,
Sparks memory,
Of golden deliciousness of summers past,
scoldings from Mum for unrepentant gluttony,
Tangy sour smells of unripe fruit,
Swings swaying under the Mango tree
And a childhood happy as can be
~ Kriti Mishra
Jun 4, 2017
Jun 4, 2017 at 3:35 AM UTC
Endless scoldings from the Nanny
mean-face global fascist granny;
data-driven witch of woe
born of winter’s frigid flow.
Boys rebel in her dull school:
passive subversion of her rule.
Minds thus stagnate—shut down early
graduating sullen, surly;
unsure why they hate the world,
emasculated and begirled.
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 5:44 PM UTC
Where has she gone?
All the others are in line,
Mother bear knows.
Three there,
Two here,
One down,
But she is missing.
An inquiry goes through
Over channels
Fierce and loud
Because one isn’t lining up
And it’s that one.
“Tariq is down, hold on” she says
Fervidly praying, breathing heavy
And there she is.
Anywhere but where she should be.
So easy to find, far too easy.
Swearing, scolding
No time for kindness,
Lost, another child lost
And another may be lost,
The most precious one here.
Scathing scoldings go ignored
Too naive, too proud
A child hoping to **** death
Though she calls that barbaric.
Reformed, remade, reborn
But never killed.
And there’s another,
Another cub but not hers
Carelessly walking on,
Not aware of the foe in his midst.
Of her child, the fool.
But she notices, thank God,
But she freezes up, **** God.
Frozen, still, just as feared.
No gun in hand
Shaking, shivering,
Breathing so hard.
“Don’t hesitate,”
The cry goes through
But this too is ignored.
A gun in hand at last
But unused, unfired
Shakily held with weak grip.
Yet a shot rings out.
Another notch for the rifle
And another cub protected,
The most precious one.
He’s fallen and she’s fallen
Him in death, her in shock,
And again the cry is made
“Don’t hesitate”,
And again it fails.
For she’s truly a cub,
Naive child hoping, praying
Failing.
The mother rushes out
Cursing and pushing away curses
“We need her, Morrison” she says.
“I need her,” she does not.
Out from hiding,
Rushing, running, and, yes,
Praying.
Still so shaken,
Still too still.
She is grabbed,
Pulled, tugged,
Yanked up to her feet
And dragged away,
Hastily hidden.
Harsh words hurriedly spoken
As she is ****** down.
Not in anger but in fear
And tears flow
And the words stop.
Scowling the bear sits,
Fearing even now in the den.
Quiet falls
Deafening, painful.
Jack shut off,
Others mollified,
And she does not speak.
Only watches,
Watching, eyeing on hatefully,
Glaring as Mother carves another.
One more life, one more line
And she doesn’t understand.
Only judges quick and fast,
Ever the idealist.
And that stings more than death’s threat.
Nov 15, 2017
Nov 15, 2017 at 12:10 PM UTC
My dad is my hero
Who can turn anyone zero
My dad is my inspiration
On whom I feel proud
To keep as aspiration
My dad is my king
Who can govern my whole family
The way the singer controls the lines he sings
My dad is my teacher
Who taught me how to live
My dad is my fighter
Who always saves me from the scoldings from mother
My dad is my God
Who created me and gave me life
My dad is my treasure
My dad is my life
My dad is everything, I wish to keep till I am alive
As I told you
How much he bothers to me in my life
I guess you have understood
How multi talented my dad is
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 12:09 PM UTC
1. You can sleep well.
2. You can save time and money.
3. No worries about how you look.
4. No miss calls in the midnight.
5. No need to recharge more than twice a day.
6. You can talk to all boys/girls.
7. You can eat well
8. No scoldings from parents/
guardians.
9. Can eat in any restaurant.
10. You can visit any body.
11. can pick any call, any time without being
questioned.
12. Don't worry about missed
calls.
13. You will have 100% rest of
mind.
14. you will live a long life.
NOTE:- LOVE is a beautiful things,
fall in love with one who takes
you as a priority not to one that takes you as an
option.
Any man/ woman that doesn't give you LOVE, CARE
and ATTENTION is not worth to be with.
TRUE or FALSE ??...
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 6:06 AM UTC
I come from pain, but I've worn it with grace for almost twenty years.
I was born to serve my mother
I'm her last hope when she loses faith in all things
I love her more than anything in this world
But the world has made her so cold
It's hard loving someone that sees so much disappointment and
She blames herself, wondering why she's been sentenced to double life
Stress
I want to make her so happy
I want to take on all her burdens
I know my love can't heal all her pain
It can't fill the cracks that the last 7 years have brought along
I'm the only sane child I think
I've heard the same scoldings so many times
I've had my act together since the fifth grade.
She led us down the right path.
She just wasn't there to choose the forks
Thats where some were led astray
I wonder why me?
Why did I make all the right friends?
Why did I do all the right things?
How can being so right feel so wrong?
I feel this imbedded desire to live up to being the chosen one.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 1:04 PM UTC
Catching semiotic holdings from a cow-licked brain ****
Matching periodic scoldings, from a plough of picked-plain art
Filled prescription left for digestive tracts dissolution
Milled conscription cleft as congestive cracks merge in illusion
Temporal reconstruction, as the Adderall seeps into place
Federal distribution, as the admiral heaps the case
Welled as the spineless listen to a cautionary thought
Held as a timeless vision of a stationary plot
Pillbox running on fumes, causing fresh hysteria to solidify
Paradox coming, dawn looms, pausing thresh, staging an area to demystify
Later, new levy forbids pawing fear, spoken rotten, a deloused baiting sound
Cater to heavy lids, drawing near the cotton housed waiting ground
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 1:39 PM UTC
Where are those beautiful days
when our hearts were so young and fresh.
Enjoying every part of life,
no tension just liberty
Like the free birds we use to soar high
and mother calling us back home.
Every day same scoldings
yet the hearts were so free and merry.
Where are those days?
Where are those beautiful days?
when we use to spun a plot to fool our mother,
but alwaye be caught and chided.
When days seems to be so short to go out yell and kick a mischief.
no tension of tomorrow just living the life of present.
unknown about good and bad
but smart enough to rock a man
where are those days?
Where are those beautiful days
when mother use to comb our hair,bathe us,pack our lunch and bag
in parties we use to be centre of attraction with our mother's make up
Wild our imaginations were, strong our desires were.
naughty were we, still loved by everyone
where are those days? those beautiful days?
Feb 28, 2012
Feb 28, 2012 at 4:08 AM UTC
Don't really meant to
be Casanova, no, I'll
Ignore your scoldings
Oct 15, 2024
Oct 15, 2024 at 12:12 AM UTC
(Mother's Day Special)
Our fate and destiny may be written
Much before we were born
Our pain and suffering may melt
My bonds and longing may break chains
But the LOVE you taught me
Will live forever
In such an amazing way that
Now even God & Goddess comes
To you to learn about LOVE
You are the blessings to LOVE
Whoever YOU touch
Whoever you speak to
Wherever you be
You are the blessing of LOVE
My BELOVED, my LOVE
My horrid life may change for good
My grief may find your joys
My LIFE may sing your songs of LOVE
Our life may be woven in harmony
When you are there, I fear no one
You are my protector and guardian
Your thoughts are my prayers of blessings
My BELOVED, my LOVE
You know I am different from everyone
You know I LOVE you the most
And I remain your favorite LOVER
Your scoldings are my blessings
I embrace YOU, and hug YOU more
When you get angry, I get scared
I fear that - you might leave me
And when you shed a few tears for me
Because you were angry on me
When you think of how much I LOVE YOU
And you look melancholic into blank space
I extend my hand, and hold yours
And lie down on your lap
Close my eyes and be at peace
You've changed my fate & destiny
You have dissolved my LOVE in YOUR being
When even Nature is influenced by YOU
How lucky I feel to be living within YOU
How fortunate that I got to smell your inner being
And a new "ME" is born from your soul
How auspicious that YOU taught me AGAPE LOVE
My BELOVED, My LOVE
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 12:12 AM UTC
*When a child hears a storm rolling
Or an old dog howls in the dead of night
And the thunder is crashing
The lightning is striking
And the heavy rain spouts outside are unfolding
That is when I
At the age fifteen
Would look to be out in the thunderous storm
Instead of inside beneath the crown molding
Such storms were the reasons why I would be smiling
But also a reason why I would get scoldings
“You’ll get struck by lighting”
Said my mother to me
And then the voice of my sister would sound out with glee
Screaming “With Mom and Dad gone, you better not die on me!”
But I didn’t care
Because out there I was free
To jump high in the storm
And even flip dangerously
Because I was a storm jumper
Destined to be*
Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 10:36 PM UTC
With their sack of books
On donkey shoulders
With a frown and tears
With a push from home
To climb Mount Everest
Facing controversies
As scoldings and shame
Bleeding workouts
Abandoning joyful days
Innocent little hearts
Seeking peace in a world
Of strangers created by
Technology of Robots !
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 12:06 AM UTC
I think you loved me
The first hug from behind
In the middle of the street
Our tears mixed
Upon our first antagonist
The "I love you" screams
During fireworks
The barefooted run
And exchange of shoes
Kisses and cuddles
And our little secrets
Breathtaking adventures
Touchdown places
Our very own runway
And gallery
Including bumps and dismays
The makeups that went with it
Those strict scoldings
For the betterment of my health
Our crazy antics
And bizarre trips
Intimate moments
Behind those every whispers
When you hold unto me
Like you won't let go, ever
But you did
Now that I think about it
I think you did
It's sad that I only think you did
'Cause I am very sure that I did
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 10:44 PM UTC
To dear Iron man,
I never used to believe in love at the first sight,
But you had something that night
I don't know what it was,
The rust on your edges or,
The scribble of words unsaid,
That off red paint,
Or the layer of dust on your surface.
You were standing there,
Like a warrior,
Cutting the darkness with,
Your shinning light,
All your dents and,
Those imperfect marks,
Seems so perfect to me.
I never used to believe in love at first sight,
But I was in love with you since the very first night.
I was a day old,
New to your land,
Creases still left to open,
And you were there,
With that dark rust and,
Half faded paint.
That night,
I opened up for the first time,
Felt the warmth of your light,
These Blank and empty spaces,
I was hiding from the world,
You filled it with your light,
So perfectly,
That no more, I want them to hide,
That night I realized,
I was a stranger to myself,
But you knew me so well.
All those warnings I get from these windows,
The scoldings I receive from this glass,
They told me, our love is forbidden,
You are a rusty street material,
And I belong to a soft world,
But every time,
When that wind blow,
I try as hard as I can,
To stretch myself out of this window,
To leave the world from where i belong,
If loving you means loosing myself,
I won't mind,
Because that night,
I fell in love with myself,
It was only under your light.
Sakshi ghildiyal
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 10:22 PM UTC
By: Jesus Johnson
She will hold you close to her heart even if not close in her embrace.
She will nurture you and bring you up the best she knows how, even if that's by hand.
A mothers love is not always the easiest to get along with nor will it be the easiest to accept.
Groundings and arguments are part of that, scoldings are a part of that, beatings are a part of that.
Mothers raise you to be the best you that you can be and sometimes they make mistakes and get frustrated.
They see you growing up and get frustrated with the independent choices you choose for yourself and the way you stop being so manipulative under their control.
The lessons they teach you are from the mistakes they had to learn the hard way and they don't want to see you mess up like they did.
You are all the goals they had as kids and teenagers and hope that you will live on with a legacy they dreamed of.
What are moms for?
Moms are the rock of the family who stay strong for you at any point through any struggle you have.
They are the heart that beats along side yours as they too feel your pain and your suffering as they see you struggle.
They are the therapist that you can confide in and tell your problems too.
They are the smile because if mom isn't happy, nobody is happy.
Moms are for loving, for caring, for cherishing, for sharing, for flaunting, for believing, for hugging, for everything.
Mothers are there for anything and will do anything for you in their power.
Mothers teach you beauty.
Mothers teach discipline and what it means to be a man or a woman.
Mothers love you unconditionally and teach you the hard lessons in life.
Mothers are there for you.
Anywhere, anytime, anyhow.
They sacrifice so much to be there for you and your success.
Mom,
I may not be the best son in the world.
I have been foolish and made many mistakes.
I've disregarded your teachings and advice at times and for that I am sorry.
Patience ran thin at times and I now understand many of the lessons you have taught me.
I now understand what your intentions were with making a man out of me.
I feel shame and guilt for not always listening to your words and not taken in your advice closely.
Through everything that we have ever gone through I have nothing but the upmost respect for you and your presence in my life.
I love you so very much and as time goes on I understand how heavily those three words weigh and how deep you can be with someone.
You have made a man out of me and prepared me the best you could for upcoming challenges of adulthood.
I owe you my life.
You are a perfect example of what moms are for.
And that impression will never fade from my memory or from this earth
May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 1:46 AM UTC
I follow you by the love I've conceived
My ears and eyes follow your lips
Only pictures cure my loneliness when your gone
Your home, pick up the phone
I'm not obsessed
I hope I'm not clinging
I just walk around supported by ghost
No one is really near me
I guess I've hit my limit at the point of erosion
Couldn't you see the decay
Receiving many scoldings
They all say it's just a critic and a harsh opinion
Obviously it's true
no one like sugar coatings anymore
bitter, sour, and spicy seems to be what they want more
I want the sugar with a little bit of sour, a dash of something bitter,
And of course the spice
Yet I crave another simple item
It's you in my life
And the day I realize you and them can't be there or can without my notice
That's the day I'll still walk this road
Remaining at my loneliest
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 2:16 PM UTC