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"somersaulted" poems
Large and wide Deep and Cool Filled with the purest water inside It was our village's hallmark pool.. Stone lined walls on all sides WIth steps going down to the water And stones for washing clothes Which also doubled for scrubbing our feet.. Live with fish and water snakes Who were friends with us kids, Frogs who would sing chorus during the rains and ferns green and bright on the walls. With overhanging trees on the banks We came running and dived into the water somersaulted and torpedoed and swam in all fashions and styles... Swimming and diving from the banks We played "catch me if you can" from the time we are back from schools Till it is dark and when calls come from our homes. With swollen finger tips and red eyes, but After the long swim and bath Having dinner right away and slipping into a good night's sleep... Days where there were no TVs to watch Days where there no homeworks to be done Days where what mattered most were friends Days which take us to the sweet childhood.. Gone is the pride of our village there are no kids who play in the water For there is no water in the pond except for a few months during the rains Kids are no longer kids They have TV to watch Phone and computers to play Virtual friends to play with Lucky we were to have such beautiful childhoods Such memorable friendships Such adventurous rainy seasons ....
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Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 4:52 AM UTC
The Village Pond...
the dregs of your spotted smiles somersaulted in an elegant arc fell in helpless array and landed nine planets away from my feet and something slightly old still feeds my anger at your impatience I forage through my grace to keep my tongue from spilling mess and my heart feels all squiggly as I sneeze my way to your mocking silence I gladly offer sweet indulgence while you openly despise my faults I forage through my fantasies, not wishing to appear so trivial lesions swell on the plastic head of revulsion let not depression eat at your sweet magical pulse still strongly beating in the sometimes sepulchral coffers of life scorn not the honey bee buzzing or the hummingbird flitting embrace the nuisance of calamity for it helps along the way to make vigorous the spirit to wedge a cardiac space in place of pillowcase full of stones where giants sleep in silent meadows across the land sensing no sharp slingshot from no nifty bottle legged creature and disappearing into the thicket would be the right time on a heavy back, a child carries a burden made of toxic crayons to melt away the awful prejudice of its forbears; undo the chains the bringer of rain stands alone in a puddle, or is it a lake? are YOU awake?
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Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
pillowcase of stones
The Wait: don’t look for love in public spaces love is shy always hesitating she comes with flowing grace to the patient lover in the end all that is needed is to look into the mirror – in the reflection of your eyes you’ll find her! The First Smile: Oh! Say not that this world is mean do not turn your face away from me! the lack of a smile in return was not intended to spurn but your smile left me so captivated so caught up and fascinated, that even as my heart somersaulted, my lips forgot to smile! Being Together: the mist hides my secrets, of it are born my desires the arc of the moon expands to contain every wish of this lovesick heart the morning but amplifies this- the sweetness of the night’s embrace on sleepless pyres were burnt our passions on winter’s breath our dreams impaled! Inseparability: Love isn’t Love until one sees that I am You and You are Me so where lies the question of coming and going wherever you are there I shall be! - Vijayalakshmi Harish Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 11:43 AM UTC
Some Hues of Love
What’s the color of the sky in your memory? I know you loved your twinkling mansion But with misty eyes I realized that- You’re awaiting just beneath my heart. I hummed melodies lacking pace And studied verses to sidetrack you But do you remember the days I talked to you endlessly? You kicked me with at most joy And somersaulted all around me But you never knew that I dreamt- A thousand dreams of loving you! I’m sorry for all your dreams I’m sorry for all your smiles You deserved to be born But I butchered you!
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Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 12:50 PM UTC
Someone who should have been born
I am forever stuck On spin cycle, Tumbling around in my own mind. Drowning, Gasping, For air. I cry out for help, but no one can hear me Through the glass. It seems they can't see me Either, As I am somersaulted Into pain. I just want someone to be Gentle. Cycle, And all I can think is Lazy days, Daisies lay as I wilt Among the clothes.
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Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 9:16 AM UTC
l a u n d r y
Judith sat on her bed the window showed night sky and moon and stars she'd been carol singing with the choir walking the route outlined singing at houses to people she and Benedict amongst others the parson had the torch others battery lamps to read from sheets she had walked with Benedict close by near to his elbow breathed in his air not cold his hands holding the sheet if I lean closer I can rub mine against his she did skin on skin she lifted her eyes from the sheet with words of carols studied his face lit up by lamp light hazel eyes lips open now closed kiss O if maybe he will if she leaned in he looked up from the sheet looked at the others nearby rustling sheets moving lamps shadowed he moved in please kiss she sensed him near lips brushed closer please touch me fill me empty me he moved in pressed his lips to hers all else blanked moon stars sky others rustling sheets light gone all else but the kiss the lips undone opened up filled she sensed knife-like wounds in her being in her heart in her *** her heart somersaulted her lips burned to bright red and branded his more more press into me seal our lips as one his free hand encircled her hers encircled him her bed creaked she moved further back their lips had parted carols began others sang he and she rustled sheets lips aflame she felt older than her 13 years at that moment in time he seemed ancient in his 14 years aged just love lips kiss no crime.
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Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 11:30 PM UTC
JUDITH REFECTED.
You were here, Seated right next to me, Eating slowly, Savoring every mouthful of my homemade African delicacies, That I had prepared specially for you, You ate to your full, And your face was fixed with a merry grin, I cleared the table and walked to the kitchen, Where you followed and held me from the back, Turned me around, And looked right into my eyes, You claimed to be performing a ritual, “To kiss the cook when the food is good”, You lowered your lips onto mine, My heart somersaulted, My feet and arms were wobbly, My brain stopped working, And as I struggled to steal a breath, During this long and sensual kiss, I suddenly woke up! What a dream!
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 7:12 AM UTC
WHAT A DREAM
In white he was dressed but all my senses screamed red, dipped in scorching passion as he came and stood before me there and then, his plush lips made an O as he uttered efficiently the word, hello Oh! holy hell, my feet went feeble and my mind somersaulted, Sudden hormonal rush made me blush as if I were a crazy, stupid teenager. Oh! Please get a grip my inner goddess pursed her lips. His tongue rolled, the velvety sound like a love song dipped in butter oozed from his deliciously moist mouth, it made no sense, but left me soaked in sensation. Sensuous sound of his voice was like a melody of monsoon on a vivaldian violin. How I wished we were alone, not amidst the **** crowd, How I desired your hands to discover my contour, contour that craved for you. Intense inclination induced by what? love or infatuation? I simply don't care, now all I want is to have you right here.
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Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 10:55 AM UTC
Screaming Senses
Cluelessly i blankly glared at the snow white writing pad As my hand scribbled furiously Back and forth my fingers moved the pen as it mercilessly tainted the paper Ideas somersaulted in my skull My time was limitless As my pen tried to define my destiny The scribbling noise was enough evidence that the two were glued in a mutual conversation Ohhh what do i say The pen spoke as it continued to *** the blue fluid You are more than a mystery The now colored paper replied Neither could i explain nor understand As ideas frothed from my recess deep in the core of my brain Where creativity nested waiting for right moment to erupt like an active volcano It takes more than thinking it needs focusing the climaxing pen breathed out Am making a poet am creating a voice of reason By jumbling alphabets and sometimes drawing blanks I make words play on top of you I smiled as it dawned to me i had an arsenal to fight this word war Pen as my spear and the book my shield With both i am a knight A literature warrior Who can unite intellectuals And create a kingdom of creativity Poetry is born
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Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 11:33 AM UTC
Untitled