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"superflous" poems
soporific and potent it travels through the tunnels with crimson walls inverse photos and superflous words sewn together like grandmothers quilt salt water drops and the wallet is empty verbose phone conversations and then the brown door opens and it alleviates faint eyes peer at each other and the air mixes together like sugar and flour and it alleviates.
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Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 5:00 PM UTC
alleviate
Yea, the daunting superflous reading clovers for mercy and occursus truss. Any of the subject almost lossing sybolic treasure. Flights of bumble bees in a memoir to the unjustified prattle. Each every, to and from has little to no forthright luster. A tremble with out fever sick. A hot spell noted by the chills. Warm coolaide at 99 degrees in the shade. Probably a groin pull in the cerebellum to a feminine mystic. Aponeurisis for a political satire written in vetos, between the colors of the rainbow. Just plain old tired of the savant, quixic, modern prancing. Dedicating a spell to the matter of quantum relics. Like a choke hold on a full figured transparency. To much sale for the sailors that had married the Titanic. Probably mustard on pickles like gypies due lovers.
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Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 11:21 PM UTC
A Little Tight for Custom Hot Rods
I would build a house out of you, for a wall six feet under the sky hardly amounts to even a scaffold. I would reassemble your two hundred and six bones into shutters to keep the sun away and save this mind I have been trying to keep from the indemnity of this worthless sanity. A pair of windows made out of the patterns in your eyes and I would be the only creature your soul contains. Your lips would be the pillow I hide my needles under. Your veins would be the bed sheets I get tangled in, uncannily warm when I tear them apart. I would fiddle with your hair like a cassette tape and when they spin off reel, I would pull at my own hair instead. I would wallpaper the rooms with your skin so I could force myself to memorise the contours on you. I would hammer your nails into a picture-less frame just because a Mona Lisa painting is superflous. I would tuck my intellectual emotions behind the dressing table and curl up in the notch of your lungs. Your breathing would sound nothing like a refuge for me, though your words would be for a tenth of a second. I would carry your heart around like a pounding candle light but I still wouldn’t find what I lost. I would flick cigaratte butts at spiders that hide between the webs of your fingers. I would paint your insides black with kerosene and a lighter just to make myself comfortable, though I'd be the only one suffering third degree burns. I would scream in your ears like it was a whirlpool in my backyard, “take it to your grave”, though I never knew what ‘it’ really was. All I know is that the hinges were made of valves. I wouldn't come back in once I leave, unless I decide to tear down what I have built. I would build a house out of you, but you are not my home.
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Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 2:27 AM UTC
i guess i built gallows out of you
I would build a house out of you, for a wall six feet under the sky hardly amounts to even a scaffold. I would reassemble your two hundred and six bones into shutters to keep the sun away and save this mind I have been trying to keep from the indemnity of this worthless sanity. A pair of windows made out of the patterns in your eyes and I would be the only creature your soul contains. Your lips would be the pillow I hide my needles under. Your veins would be the bed sheets I get tangled in, uncannily warm when I tear them apart. I would fiddle with your hair like a cassette tape and when they spin off reel, I would pull at my own hair instead. I would wallpaper the rooms with your skin so I could force myself to memorise the contours on you. I would hammer your nails into a picture-less frame just because a Mona Lisa painting is superflous. I would tuck my intellectual emotions behind the dressing table and curl up in the notch of your lungs. Your breathing would sound nothing like a refuge for me, though your words would be for a tenth of a second. I would carry your heart around like a pounding candle light but I still wouldn’t find what I lost. I would flick cigaratte butts at spiders that hide between the webs of your fingers. I would paint your insides black with kerosene and a lighter just to make myself comfortable, though I'd be the only one suffering third degree burns. I would scream in your ears like it was a whirlpool in my backyard, “take it to your grave”, though I never knew what ‘it’ really was. All I know is that the hinges were made of valves. I wouldn't come back in once I leave, unless I decide to tear down what I have built. I would build a house out of you, but you are not my home.
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Wafting in the air the resonant sound and words Of hatred, cuss, jealousy & taunt. Language of deep silence is esoteric, I love Gibberish, arid & acerbic talks, everywhere haunt. Loquacity is shallow, I loathe Silence is deep and pure gold, Words touch only eardrums & mind, Silence bestow character a spiritual mould. Silence has echoing & loud sound I practise daily as life-goal, Travelling through the heart it creeps slowly, Deep and straight into the soul. The words are hollow promises and misaligned perception, Silence is cosmic and real, Physical world is just a hallucination. Our words, images, screams & eulogies All are superflous, futile & bovine, Deep silence- a path to God It nurtures nature and is purely divine. I feel it everywhere in the air, In swift winds and deadly storms, In engulfing volcanos & devastating floods, Feel it in my breath & blood flowing through the veins, In wide highways and in narrow lanes. It sinks in deep drenches and vast sea, Hugs high plateaus & mammoth imposing mountains, Mingles with rays of bright sun and coolness of flirting moon. Words can be abrasive, If misinterpreted, can be source of strife & division, Deep silence abounds in love and peace, Being holy & celestial, it leads to unison.
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Aug 7, 2016
Aug 7, 2016 at 12:10 PM UTC
DEEP SILENCE
ACADEMIC TESTS Oh these tests, Superflous academic tests. No time to prepare For entrance tests. Difficult to store Vast concepts in mind, Oh how to retain so much Till marks given and paper signed. Bewaring that, The examiner is not blind, And not our bydweller That gives marks so kind. All worried, Smile crease no face. Will we get through, Or falter in this pace. Parents worried about their carreer They believe books are nifty, Smartphones are carrier's barrier With no sympathy. Parent's and teacher's Support and hope is essential, In order to raise their potential. - Sahaj Sabharwal© -Pacca Danga , Jammu [email protected] +917780977469 #sahajsabharwal12345 #poem #ACADEMIC #TESTS #jammu #India #poemindia #published #copyright #poetry #writersofinstagram #wordporn #quoteoftheday #writersofig #quote #quotestagram #thoughts #qotd #instawriters #inspirationalquotes #poetsofinstagram #stories #igwriters #yourquote #wordswag #wordsofwisdom #writersofindia #writeaway #writer #poetrycommunity #poet #poem #igwritersclub #quotes #writing #poems #love #writerscommunity #bhfyp sahajsabharwal©
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Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 7:28 AM UTC
ACADEMIC TESTS
iii silence i preferred above all else i thought words superflous a curse want to be emotions best kept private better be silent and feel like a wheel like the universe or beautiful verses wild flowers seagulls bees a breeze hindu kush hushed smoke bush peace..
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Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 9:16 AM UTC
silence
Whether it's the land and sea, Or the soil and trees, There is a lock for each key, Call it a restrain, or a feeling of being free The sun and the moon, Radiate light and reflect it respectively, Their omnipresence exhibits the neccesary balance, a disguised boon, Which is utilized so profusely and effectively Take mankind, the most profound example, A vessel of emotions, thoughts and actions, An observable trait when the balance was lost, Was when wars were waged, and today, it is when we are beginning to defrost the frost If we learn from our ancestors and from mother nature, If only we could let go of our superflous desires, such as societal stature, And lend a hand to the weak, the needy and halt activities that render our planet and people broken, It doesn't matter if it takes an age, for life is all a gamble, and i have an adequate number of tokens
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Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 9:10 AM UTC
Balance