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"thses" poems
From beauty to rage my heart could go either way with this endless pain, *I create, I predict and visualize truth and history When I paint thses pictures When write those letters Maybe then life will feel just a bit better without the flames of volcano time I want perfect skies and beautiful dreams that'll make me cry inside for life, for love I want more memories to unfold and change into a fantasy of two It gotta be real time and this happiness outta come through in rebirth In this , I still love you From beauty to rage my heart could go either way with this endless pain, It's not okay I'm not okay But still I strive for the gorly days Without the love I can't repair without you chaos ravings rage struggles within me I can't manage So don't reply Because of beauty and rage My heart isn't so easy to be loved.*
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May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 6:15 PM UTC
Beacause Beauty And Rage
aged 14 they took me to this place first thoughts when they took me i was going to my grave needles from which id never awake police took me fully restained i walked though the door what **** i aint mad you got this wrong its normal what these voices are saying now im nursed in my room vallys and olazapine daze and confused every bit of energy is to fight and refuse now im thinking all day how am i getting back i need my fix from four days i told them openup the window and second floor dow n dropped to knees now im struggling now how am i gunna wal k i need to sit down thats the thing about my frst time each voice of this psychosis there was nothing that was wrong with me n my thoughts were sound Enter You sent still not understanding but their circling around aint taking thses ******* meds are they ******* mad im sane im sane ******* listen i aint being ******* restarined first guy that tries i wont hestate i have a shard of glass i was hoping to save Enter You sent now their surrounding me now and its all getting tense no idea which way to face now then boom down injection,s placed room spinning out i'm losing focus the voices are easing but never will they leave one eye open one eye shut in to the deepest endless sleep im falling i'm falling waking up nightmares i'm waking up in cold sweats overwhelmed with stress without warning
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Apr 1, 2022
Apr 1, 2022 at 6:55 PM UTC
mental health unit 200
Dear Readers, thses are my few old memories of Calcutta from my early childhood days, after having reached the milestone on the road side reading 77. Hope you like it ! Best wishes, - Raj, New Delhi. REMINISCENCE OF A SENIOR SEPTUAGENARIAN I was born in the early forties during those black and white days, When those big old valve radios and gramophones records played. The British flag was flying over Calcutta, the city of my birth. That first old capital of British India with its horse and buggy, crowded buses, and tram cars. The main streets got washed with water hoses from   high pressured hydrants every morning, And the lamplighter with his ladder lighted the street gas lights every evening. Radiograms were a status symbol, and transistor radios had come decades later. With rickshaws pulled manually by poor old rickshaw pullers! Juke Box played popular songs (during our school days in the fifties) in ice cream parlors. Whoever even thought of a TV or a mobile phone, during those happy hours! For the Bongs the theatres of north Calcutta was a classical source of entertainment. Eye ball contact was meaningful with a hug and a hand shake, - life remained fully extroverted. Unlike our present highly advanced Corona days! No wonder I love that great old South Indian serial titled the ‘Malgudi Days’! Like our old songs, those golden days shall forever remain cherished and nostalgic; And as a part of a senior citizen’s waking dream! Now please smile, take a selfie with your I-phone, and go to sleep!                                        -Raj Nandy, New Delhi.
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May 27, 2020
May 27, 2020 at 3:19 AM UTC
REMINISCENCE OF A SENIOR SEPTUAGENARIAN
Dear Readers, thses are my few old memories of Calcutta from my early childhood days, after having reached the milestone on the road side reading 77. Hope you like it ! Best wishes, - Raj, New Delhi. REMINISCENCE OF A SENIOR SEPTUAGENARIAN I was born in the early forties during those black and white days, When those big old valve radios and gramophones records played. The British flag was flying over Calcutta, the city of my birth. That first old capital of British India with its horse and buggy, crowded buses, and tram cars. The main streets got washed with water hoses from   high pressured hydrants every morning, And the lamplighter with his ladder lighted the street gas lights every evening. Radiograms were a status symbol, and transistor radios had come decades later. With rickshaws pulled manually by poor old rickshaw pullers! Juke Box played popular songs (during our school days in the fifties) in ice cream parlors. Whoever even thought of a TV or a mobile phone, during those happy hours! For the Bongs the theatres of north Calcutta was a classical source of entertainment. Eye ball contact was meaningful with a hug and a hand shake, - life remained fully extroverted. Unlike our present highly advanced Corona days! No wonder I love that great old South Indian serial titled the ‘Malgudi Days’! Like our old songs, those golden days shall forever remain cherished and nostalgic; And as a part of a senior citizen’s waking dream! Now please smile, take a selfie with your I-phone, and go to sleep!                                        -Raj Nandy, New Delhi.
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