"sculp" poems
I don't draw pretty pictures,
or paint elaborate canvases,
I dont sing my heart out
-perfectly in key every time
or strum my guitar
-better than just fine
I don't sculp great bodies
from clay, wood or stone,
nor do I workout too much,
sculpting my own.
I tend to see the beauty
in all the above mentioned art,
internalize it, waiting for a trigger
to let the writing start.
I turn your pictures into words,
your sculptures into pages from the heart
I feel your painting without touching it,
these lines are my works of art.
Jan 6, 2011
Jan 6, 2011 at 2:53 PM UTC
We're found to be cut off but not long ago!
Some burn us with sparklers
and we get modulated as flames in a flash
by yielding fire flowers to your night sky
And you numskulls think that we die.
Some sculp us with molten cruelty as symbol of mockery.
It's Good enough that we we're just called as devils.
But what about those bed evils
Who attack upon on lassies
With the holler word called “babies”
To accomplish their own seductive urge.
What about those drunken buffoons
In those paved streets under the feeble streetlights stalking the fragile once either for fun or for a wrong intention.
What about the brute
twice the age of his married daughter
bites into the soul of a maiden.
Spitting the venomous words
and incapacitates the heart
Numbness spreads all over her body
after the spiteful attack.
For heaven's sake
Don't point your fingers on us
We're better than you
I being Ravan,
The biggest devotee of lord Siva
And had an extremely loyal wife like Mandodari
Been burned with ten heads
For just kidnapping Sita
Whereas I returned her with due respect.
But these days people use women like toys
by fulfilling their joys.
And Mahishasura,
Who could worship so hard to impress three lords
was eventually killed by Durga and could meet the death by hands of powerful women.
But these days people **** the female child before birth
thinking daughters as burden on earth.
If still you don't get atonement
Just think this poem as a complement
And just think how better are we as your opponent.
May the whole world call us demon or devil
But first learn to tackle the inner evil.
If possible put pins and needle
to such people
Then the world will be in next level.
Oct 5, 2017
Oct 5, 2017 at 2:51 AM UTC
A child is like a flame: warm and alive
The flame spreads, only by a single blow
The warmth spreads, but only to where the wind lets them
It is its protector and biggest enemy
They sculp the flame
Once the wind is to strong, the flame goes out
And the field of flames slowly decreases untill its empty
The flame is gone
The wind is gone
Mar 12, 2020
Mar 12, 2020 at 6:33 AM UTC
Oh my sweet argentine, thou beauty amazes
thine long flowing mane, a blacken hue
caress your cheeks, to sculp perfection
thine has the bluest of eyes, pierce the night
God's creatures halt in a coy stillness
thine walks with ease, each step glides
to me she comes, angelic voice soft
thine whispers, hold me, in trance state
smiling moon as we kiss goodnight
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 9:02 PM UTC
Blur the sanity
plunged in delirium
that calls for me,
free of any type of bound
and see how the sunlight dies
with orphan eyes.
For now, I prefer to be blind
than carry on with this stubborn eyes
who refuse to see you in someone elses bed.
I would like to asphyxiate my thougts with the pillow
so when you land over my bed
in the middle of the night
my dream become true
and rest my lips over your skin
caress your longs with a deep breath
ignoring the fear behind my knees
and sculp your body in the darkness,
under my covers.
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 10:51 PM UTC
as you sculp me to your liking
trim the rough edges smooth
crush the shavings to fine dust
brush them to the corner
to make me perfect, will fill the room
then when this trophy is polished
to the brightest sheen, insert that
magic coin, so I utter the right words
for your reputation you need to uphold
this charade I'll play, my heart is yours
I'll play the fool, in hopes you love me
but too much brightness, can blind
reaching out, confuse the mind
when dullness sets in, erodes the shine
your yawns come frequent, start to pine
for the next subject in your long line
remember this, as you discard me
the vengence is all mine
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 8:54 PM UTC