"sev" poems
Mumbai is rich, Mumbai is poor.
Mumbai is fast, Mumbai is slower.
Little bit sweet, and little bit sour,
Sometimes it’s hot but not too more….
Mornings are energetic and evenings are electric.
Noons are lazy but Nights are crazy
And any one you ask he always say “M busy”
Dude, life in Mumbai is not so easy
There is lot of Masti with little bit of Maska
Welcome to the city that can’t live, without Bollywood Chaska
From cooker whistles to the traffic jam horns,
From steaming tea kettles to breaking nut-betels
From telephone rings and doorbell brings.
There are people connecting through Blackberry pings
Where there’s little time to spare for kids
People here spend their lives on bids
Here you actually pay your travel fare by meter
But milkman mixing water is not a cheater!
Sev puri and bhel puri are all Mumbai chaat
Relishing it with spicy chutney is no easy art
From pop-corn to ice-cream, all sold on cart
Mumbai o Mumbai, you’re always close to my heart
Where local trains usually run on time
And violently rushing for a seat is not a crime
Here 3 PM for lunch and 12 AM to dine
People face hardships, but still say “it’s fine”
From Mt Mary in Bandra to Mumba Devi in Town
And ISKCON in Juhu to Haji Ali in Mumbai’s Crown
Faith runs deep as the Arabian Sea
But people don’t hesitate to pay early darshan fee.
Marathi, Punjabi, Gujarati and Bengali
Everyone forgather celebrate Id and Diwali
Holi is colourful and Christmas is cheerful
Spend some time here and your life will be un-forgetful
Billionaire to baggers, all found in this city
Be careful dude, this place is a bit witty.
Overall this dream-world is huge but pretty
Mumbai o Mumbai you’re wonderful city.
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 1:15 AM UTC
Ramadan comes with lots of prayers,
Fasting and doing charity,
With the fragrance of heaven,
Which still lingers in our mind,
To Allah alone, we turn our hopes and intentions.
Ramadan does not leave empty handed,
It leaves with a golden handshake in the name of
EID UL FITR.
To celebrate with family and friends,
Reaching out our hearts,
Extending happiness,
Sewing relationships.
What better than a sweet dish
Sev khurmo (vermicelle cooked in milk with raisins almonds and pistachios ),
To hail in oneness,
Joy and prosperity.
Happy Eid Mubarak
To all on Hello Poetry.
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 4:49 PM UTC
Una kitang narinig
Pero iba pala kapag naririnig at nasisilayan
Alam mo bang nakakakilig
Kahit yung kinakanta mo ay tungkol sa lokohan, kabiguan o kalungkutan
Ewan ko kung napansin mo akong tulala sayo
Habang kumakanta ka at may kaunting pangiti ngiti
Tignan mo gumawa ako ng tula para sayo
At yung puso ko tuloy palihim na tili ng tili
Pagkauwi ko galing sa Sev's Cafe
Di ko pa din malimutan yung oras na magpapapicture ako sayo
Muntik na akong di makagalaw at sumigaw ng mayday! mayday!
Nang sabihin **** "teka maglugay muna ako"
Hayaan mo na yung mga taong nasa kanta **** PAWS
Kung sakin lang araw araw ka sanang may rose
Lumipad man yung isa sayo palayo
Tayo naman ay tatakbo at lilibutin ang mundo
Pag nagkita tayo ulet ang sasabihin ko ay Hi Crush!
Kaya lang yung pisngi mo kaya ay mag blush?
Sabayan mo sana itong gusto kong kantahin
Mejo nirevise ko yung favorite part mo sa antukin
Eto na
Sasalubungin natin ang kinabukasan
Ng walang takot at pangamba
Tadhana'y merong tip na makapangyarihan
Kung ayaw may dahilan
Gusto kita kaya ginawan ng paraan
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 6:46 AM UTC
you toss my feelings back and forth like a tennis ball.
It was so asinine to think you cared at all.
you make it out like you wanna meight, but end up stealing
my heart, which isn't condusev in my healing.
You make me six. With me, you didn't have a rival.
I used to think you were necessary for my surfivel.
therefour, from here on, I won't allow you to crush me,
no more threel seeing my reaction when you touch me.
I don't understand people who just get together
to make you think you won and blow you off like a feather.
I half had enough and this topic's not moot,
I have zeroed in on my target and i am ready to shoot.
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 9:42 PM UTC
Seeing we never found gay fairyland
(Though still we crouched by bluebells moon by moon)
And missed the tide of Lethe; yet are soon
For that new bridge that leaves old Styx half-spanned;
Nor ever unto Mecca caravanned;
Nor bugled Asgard, skilled in magic rune;
Nor yearned for far Nirvana, the sweet swoon,
And from high Paradise are cursed and banned;
-Let's die home, ferry across the Channel! Thus
Shall we live gods there. Death shall be no sev'rance.
Weary cathedrals light new shrines for us.
To us, rough knees of boys shall ache with rev'rence.
Are not girls' ******* a clear, strong Acropole?
-There our oun mothers' tears shall heal us whole
5.1k
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Fi-
Or...
Was...
It
four?
Better
start
again,
being
safe..
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Start
Again.
Counting.
Every.
Single.
Thing.
Here.
Cracks.
Wait?
How
long
was
that
there?
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Scratching.
Poking.
Prodding.
Anxiety
makes
me
tick.
Breathe.
One.
Out.
Two.
Breathe.
Three.
Out.
Four.
Breathe.
Five.
Out.
Six.
Breathe.
Seven.
Haiku.
Seven.
Five.
Sev-
Five.
Seven.
Five.
Seven
Doesn't
Have
Seven
Freaking
Numbers
Crap.
That
was
six.
Need
to
revise.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
In.
Ignore
it.
But
I
Can't.
You
can.
But
I
simply
don't
have
the
strength.
I
just
can't
stop
ticking
right
now.
Help
me.
Gonna
drown
and
die.
Save
me.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
Now
it's
too
late
to
save
me.
The
numbers
have
already
won
this
one.
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 1:35 PM UTC
Namaz have been prayed,
Duas have have been said,
Sev khurma and biryani is ready,
Just go slow and steady.
Make the most of this joyous day I request,
I wish you and your family all the best,
On this Eid Day
5/6/2019
Jun 5, 2019
Jun 5, 2019 at 8:34 AM UTC
sveiks dārgais
šodien tev īpaši izceļās acis
vai zināji?
tās mirdz vairāk nekā parasti
vai tu ieraudzīju kaut ko, kas tās apžilbināja?
vai varbūt tās cenšas ieviest gaismu sev apkārt?
apspīdēt cilvēkus, kurus tās uzlūko (?)
vai varbūt tās vienkārši glabā sevī noslēpumu
man nav ne jausmas
tikai tu to zini
es vēlos kaut tu man pateiktu
kaut tu uzrunātu mani
kaut vai bez vārdiem
bez skaņām
bet ar klusumu
ar kustību
ar savu ķermeni
to skaisto ķermeni, kurā dzīvo tava dvēsele
ķermeņa valoda ir pati skaistākā
tā spēj pateikt vairāk nekā simtiem vārdu
tavs smaids ir skaistākā rindkopa šajā stāstā
tu to atkārto tik bieži,
katru dienu
taču man nekad nepietiek..
nekad nevar būt par daudz tava žilbinošā smaida
manas lūpas nekad nespēj pretoties
acis iemirdzās,
sirdspuksti paātrinās
un sākas jauns stāsts,
kurā piedalās mūsu ķermeņi
tie raksta ar saviem locekļiem
pasaku, kurai nav beigu
tā nekad nebeidzas
bet gan turpinās
arī tagad
manas acis uzlūko tevi
tās iekāro tevi no jauna
mana sirds alkst pēc tavas mīlestības
ak mans mīļais
es vēlos veidot jaunu mākslas darbu
paņemsim rokās otas un ļausimies
nedomāsim par laiku
jo laika mūsu pasaulē nav
esam tikai mēs
un mūsu māksla
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 2:37 PM UTC
I've said some bold words in my time -
Made tragedies of pantomime.
I've kissed some morons in my day -
Too young I thought I'll lose the hay.
I lived as the greatest lover
(Or the most pathetic, rather) -
Mad walks in the rain and letters
Oft took judgement from my betters,
Let's add to the pile morn roses,
Bookshop rushes ere it closes,
Philosophy and late night talks,
And still more mad, but sunny, walks,
Journeys on the train to Glasgow,
Two tickets to Panic!'s last show,
Bekhôled reading Thomas Hardy,
Sapphires costing a fair farthing,
And now, and then, in your study,
I'd be your debating buddy,
Then your patient, then a girl:
An embrace set you in a whirl.
Our first kiss was in tears, my love,
Our confession was at a shove,
Our first handhold was without hope,
You always said we had no scope -
And yet you'd loved me, lover mine,
Or begged for it upon my shrine,
Conceived it in my breast of stone -
You conquered, and I lost, and won.
I never spoke more equally
With any man, but now my plea
Falls down on your attentive ears
As would a rusted pair of shears.
I do not mean to **** you, love,
I meant to raise you up above
The idol that my head construed -
I've held you, never rough or rude
As loving is, but passionate
And real and true, and I, to date,
Have never felt more like a queen
Than in our kisses, sweet and keen.
And all my verses do abuse
This love of mine - I have no ruse
For I am rendered dumb by you,
And know no truth but in your view.
Sweet Uiginn's son, whom I must meet,
Swept sev'ral times from off my feet
But never truly, only now -
Why say you "No", and ask not "How?"?
Jul 16, 2024
Jul 16, 2024 at 1:17 PM UTC
Like the way a speaker prepares his toast. Each yearning sensibility, their bold autumnal stamen cast lines into the horizon of our lives. That when we were younger we even thought, that aeroplanes would land just where we stood in front of our homes in our neighborhood. And if unfurled, as our oil riggers kept us off the benches so we must only had whispers of our doings. Then Harold Sev and Linda Wevven brought to us our cars, our toys, our wives...cooking and cleaning and children. This was not the narrow passage of peak four.
Because of this we have learned many wonderfully-suited professions of our tertiary friends: radio captain, Saharan Field Marshall, dairy operator at a dromedary farm.
Why in this short-timed, often-rainy parody of existence due countries set embargos upon one another so that two men who cannot afford even the drink they carry, so long as they handle the glass properly, and we concern ourselves with things as trivial as this.
You stay everyone! This America is stupendous.
Or then drink from my hands and say, "America Finding the Curious Even More Curiouser.'" Where with two plates two bowls, two forks, two spoons, two glasses, and thrice the knives of a charcuterie.
So with your bold hand baskets, and Model-Ts, go show us how you fffffffffffffffffffff
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 4:42 AM UTC
For someone who grew up loving the idea of growing up,
I came to the point of hating it; I hated goodbye's.
I hated confrontations.
I hated how good things must come to an end.
I hate how I just met someone whom;
Let's say is somewhat a complete stranger
The type wherein you instantly connect
With this being but failed to notify yourself
That this ''stranger'' is about to leave the country.
I hate how as you enjoy a perfectly good bottle of beer,
There goes all these people who once left you feeling
All these emotions you never even signed up for.
Do you still remember the day you felt
The weight of the world upon your shoulder?
And as much as you want to vividly capture
That moment you won't do that.
I hate how you meet people who are driven;
The type that makes you want to feel alive.
Whose passions are engraved in their skin.
But then, you noticed how these people progress
And are off to venture in a different path without
Even having you in the picture.
I hate how I discovered a place to free,
This chaotic mind;
To dig through every parts of myself
And leave it all behind in this place
I'd like to call ''home.''
I hate how this place felt like home to us
That we are safe from our misery;
We've built friendships.
And maybe, met the person you
Fall for every single day.
Whether it'd be good or bad,
Keep it.
Let's keep the love alive.
Dec 23, 2015
Dec 23, 2015 at 3:36 PM UTC
baffled at ** hum
yawn snore boredom
what a conundrum
this viral life infarction
unnecessary creation
boring old pity party hum drum
cry me a river; don’t want none
get off your *** ***
enjoy the sun some
be a person
impaired some?
take your **** meds ***
walk the woe is me to the dump slum
debbie downer 24 sev 365 clusterfucktion
sad lil’ emo infection
overdone depression queen incursion
misery loves company seduction
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 12:02 AM UTC
An earthquake sev
ered the land from the
other land, disconn
ected the bridge from the
shore.
I felt the rumble in my glass,
saw the ripple in lady dacre's wine.
The quivers influenced the
nerve endings at the base of my spine,
and the dimmed lights flickered
almost imperceptibly.
I saw the faces of the lazybones
in the bar, the panic-
Most people survived.
May 27, 2010
May 27, 2010 at 1:12 AM UTC
it's like
early season, leaves out
on the low twined branches
with the thought of
you like
so many cabbage moths
(small white, actually
butterflies)
(moths are better anyway)
flittering
fo
r one moment I
say
"you are beautiful" th
e
breeze carries your
white laced wings to my
soft cotton, the canvas I
spread over my
winter-long
in sec ur i ties, 'cause I'm
still like
when I was sev en teen and
believed and believe
you'd never
really
want
b
roken
little
sad
little
me
anyway. and the
air comes in
from the northeast and
you-
-starry eyed-
-dance away, like a
soft
spring laugh.
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 7:39 AM UTC
I saw her dancing on the stage
Within my pants I felt a rage
The animal wants out the cage
I hope she's on the same page
She found me standing by the bar
She said she saw me from afar
We went and sat under the stars
She said she lived by where we are
I gestured we go back inside
"Or" she said "we could go in your ride"
I knew right there, this girl is mine
And now it'd be my time to shine
We ended up back at her home
And now its time to make her moan
But moans quickly turned to groans
When I realized I had no domes...
**** I thought, "this is a mess"
But suddenly I did digress
Thought "what the hell" and I said yes
When she told me she was on Alesse
Without even thinking I went up in her
Had breakfast, lunch...and she was dinner
I really thought I was a winner
No halo here, this girls a sinner
I left her place dehydrated and thirsty
So I hit the Sev and bought a slurpee
I knew that girl wouldn't hurt me
But then I woke up with *****
Jul 28, 2010
Jul 28, 2010 at 7:23 PM UTC
One, thud!
Goes down smooth
Comforting like seeing an old friend after years apart.
Excited for the adventures to come,
I drum on my chest and YELL,
im ready for the next.
Two, thud!
Rough stuff,
burning like a fuse on a stick of dynamite,
ready to blow at any second, I reckon,
this is a test, like chess, a game of wits.
Turn back now? Never, surrender is no option.
Three, thud!
Invincible, intelligent, strong,
the night is young and so are the women,
generous with my money, yet
not one **** was given.
Four, thud!
Floor? only if you bore, me,
I just want to dance,
liquid courage is all I need,
even if I dont exceed in my mission, at this point,
I wont be ******** about girls dismissing me.
Humorous in a way,
the decisions made to take things to the next level.
Five, thud!
Heavy bass treble, pulsating,
people laughing but I dont care, I cant.
This is the zone,
the night halfway over, yet not a thought of home.
I wander along, stumbling and spilling,
This song in the background speaks the truth.
The club cant handle me right now.
Six, thud!
Pressures proves powerful,
I...puke, phew!
Sev...
Morning sun burns the skin
like water on the wicked witch,
I wake up to nothing but my hand in a trashcan
dead phone, and a voice in my head thinking.
Never again.
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 4:27 AM UTC
He cut off his feet...
But still wandered and strayed
Then gouged out his eyes...
But still burned for the maid
Then lopped off one hand...
But then saw an issue:
He could not complete
Sev'ring sin from his tissue
.
Oct 22, 2020
Oct 22, 2020 at 9:24 AM UTC
pendently crimson wearing elfin ******* &
chatoyant eyes
grown from boundless harvesting she is
lonely from survival, tenacious pedicel tight
against countless snapped, spent-black fleshlings.
ripe with costly price and left single amongst
decay she adopts (though morely wields)
venin wet juice that poisons whichever loves.
sev ering her stem
with weathered hands, i hoist her cheek to mine
where pressure reveals the tender path
of warmly dissolve.
though she strains & twines with rot and
(the core soaks through) i devour her ***
blight seeds, wholly
so she can grow (afflict me) elsewhere.
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 10:15 PM UTC
We moved out west to Hollywood
And quickly settled down
Amongst the rich and famous in
The heart of Tinsel Town
I joined the local Lion’s Club
My wife, the PTA
The kiddos were ecstatic when
Invited out to play
They called for pick up early and
We asked them on the go
Just how it went with their new friends
In Nine 0 Two One 0
They answered back in unison
It wasn’t fun and games
These California movie stars
Give kids the strangest names
The Nanny said that we should play
With Coco on the lawn
So we made some in the kitchen
High-fived...and said, ‘Game on’
Were we to know that ‘Coco’ meant
A girl and not a drink
Oh, pardon our absurdity
And poured ours down the sink
About that time the Nanny said
That Apple was out back
So we patted on our tummies
Oh, fi-na-lly...a snack
Were we to know that ‘Apple’ was
A friend of Choc’late Moo
Of the sev’ral major food groups
We’d shared play time with two
About that time the Nanny said
That Blanket’s on the deck
We weren’t the least bit cold at all
But, wrapped up for a sec
Were we to know that ‘Blanket’ was
A boy and not a spread
The blankets back where we came from
Were folded on our bed
About that time the Nanny said
Tu Morrow’s on her way
And wanted us to stay until
Tu Morrow came--to play
We didn’t know ‘Tu Morrow’ meant
Not staying for a snooze
So we begged off playing longer
We were getting too confused!
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 3:58 PM UTC
The toothbrush starts, “Enameled crooked crescents fence
a cavern filled by slimy growths and walls that tense.”
The towel ruffles, “Four protrusions rife with joints;
the fifth a rounded stump with sev’ral gentle points.”
“Agreed. The knobs and knuckles wear a supple coat;”
the loofah huffs, “it’s gritty, slick, and prone to bloat.”
The eyebrow brush retorts, “It’s two retracting domes
that cause a row of strands to flutter when one roams.”
“While ‘domes’ is right, I venture ‘jiggle’ as more apt -
along with perky, tapered tips.” the brassiere flapped.
The ****** giggle, “‘Bouncy’ could suffice as well,
but don’t forget the dampened folds and prickly swell.”
“Absurd!” exclaims the hairbrush, “More like brittle twine;
Entangled, oily knots that never quite align.”
“Not twine, but thistles bushing out in sweeping arcs,”
the razor sighs, “from paper that too clearly marks.”
A glassy voice laments, “Not one of them’s correct -
how easy this would be, if you could all reflect.”
Apr 3, 2021
Apr 3, 2021 at 2:07 PM UTC
I.
the background noises in his head,
they make him wish he were dead,
make him afraid to tread,
an endless ****** red thread.
a tight-gripped gun,
a twisted kind of fun.
fueled by inferiority complex,
makes him grip a loaded gun of god-complex.
II.
reckless and unaware,
treading heavily into places no one could bear.
the trauma of countless no more
capitalized and embossed into his core.
a perfect villainous smile,
vile,
nailed into his metaphorically unbreakable cranium,
distorted invested repressed tantrum.
II b.
he is hell bent,
yet heavenly sent.
regretfully,
sadly.
III.
he just wants to fill the emptiness,
a validation of his worthiness.
his head is the seven seas of confusion,
with a room mirroring the worst reflection.
IV.
shotgun clacking,
a madman in the making,
unloaded,
“fire it!”
fired.
V.
a deafening heartbeat under his ribs,
poor souls forcefully reaped,
ghosting the veil,
who’s going to tell the tale?
VI.
“what have I done?”
a dropped empty god-complex shotgun.
VII.
one, two, three, four, five, six, sev-
before he guns himself.
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 1:34 PM UTC
Vada-Paav, in Aamchi Mumbai, or Maharashtra entire, is definitely the most popular inexpensive dish.
But according to the circumstances that prevail here at Bombay, been it should have Bhel-puri, I do wish.
There are Maharashtrians, Gujjus, South Indians, Sikhs, Bongs etc. and us Parsis, though very miniscule
Similarly Bhel has sev, mamra, chevda, puris, onions, potatoes, coriander, chillies, chutneys, you can add more, there is no rule
Just like the ingredients of Bhel, the population mingles, mixes, blends, whatever you can call it, to be called Bombayites
But but but!!! wait and watch, when they board a suburban local train, just watch their many big & small fights.
To see the Bhel Puri, in this city cosmopolitan, encounter you have to the fisher folk, giving "shivya, our popular Maushi baai"
In our Bhel-Puri population, there are Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Christians, Jews, Parsis; but in Bombay they are lovingly addressed, Bhau n Taai.
Hope you liked my BHEL-PURI, please do taste and comment.
Armin Dutia Motashaw
May 13, 2022
May 13, 2022 at 12:39 AM UTC
For so long, the blood in my dreams
Have been haunting my every day.
It's simple now, the writing, the breath from me
But in night in my cold sweat,
The dead awaken me.
Shaking me and taunting, I heard their former life.
Happiness.
So much expression.
Then, my hand would shake and linger
On the metaphorical picture frame,
Printed in a gruesome gloss
Were their eyes.
Staring into deep slumber ahead.
The slashing I had acted, presenting power, I was tricked,
This was not heroic.
Nor did I feel like justice had been fairly given.
Alas,
Foul play still dripped from my course.
Constantly silenced, the Elder demanded me,
I had no more expression.
I will tell a story, yes,
Of a man who once told I,
Be the better man, and so I ran,
As far as my corrupted heart could go on for.
Thrown back and forth, my emotions twirled,
Danced and beat themselves up,
Where was I to go?
I wanted to start a new life, that of a renewed man,
Unlike my old road I blindly stumbled,
Decision was chosen upon, to be good,
A taboo, where I formerly originated.
I had found my growing expression.
Since the sprint, of a true heart,
The window of sunlight shines bright on my face
Like that of redemption from a real sun god.
One that protects.
The days of acceptance grew on me,
And I struggled.
But I found that self forgiveness
Is one of the best moralities.
And for every daisy I gently nurture,
Every apple I pick from the branch,
And for every child I inspire,
I pray they subconsciously believe in me,
Build my positive aroma for all of those who see me,
And hope that the word gets passed on
To every unfortunate soul,
That the man that untimely battered them,
Is now on a journey
To restore your stolen expression.
Jun 18, 2019
Jun 18, 2019 at 8:52 AM UTC