"tor" poems
Sapne dikha kyon tor diya ,
Waada kar sath nibhane ka
Manzil se pahle hi kyon chhod diya,
Ab tujhse sare ristey tod denge hum ,
Mohabbat chhod denge hum,
Mohabbat chhod denge hum. ...
Ab to akele rahne ki aadat si ** *** hain ,
Tujhse to mujhe ab nafrat ** *** hain,
Kisi ko ab apna dil na denge hum,
Mohabbat chhod denge hum,
mohabbat chhod denge hum,
Tune mujhe aisa thokar mara
ki muskurana bhi bhul gya hoon,
Apne dard ko hi pyar samajh raha hoon,
Ab tere pyar se bhi mu'h mor lenge hum,
Mohabbat chhod denge hum,
mohabbat chhod denge hum. ... .
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 10:15 AM UTC
Meri zindagi mujhse ruth ***
ek anjaan bankar,
Chhod kahan chali ***
mera dil torkar,
Tut gaye mere sapne sare
ek shisha bankar,
Rah gaye wo purane pal ab
bas ek yaad bankar,
Aai mere jeevan me dard
teri judai bankar,
Tor diye sare rishtey mujhse
meri jahan bankar,
Rah jayenge ab hum tumhare bina
bas ek gumnaam bankar,
Kyon de gye ** dard mujhe
mere hi zajbaat bankar,
meri zindagi mujhse ruth ***
ek anjaan bankar,
ghabra jata hai dil kabhi kabhi
yahi baat sunkar,
Kab laut aayega wo pal
ek naya sabera bankar,
Badh jayegi meri khusi
Tumhare sath chalkar,
tumhare sath chalkar.....
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 10:10 AM UTC
Mere sapne kyon tut gaye,
Wo humse kyon ruth gaye,
Dekar shila mohabbat ka mujhe,
Wo meri hasti kyon lut gaye,
Kyon aaye wo meri zindagi me
Jab mujhe chhod ke jana hi tha,
Karke waadein pyaar ke
Jab sath nibhana hi na tha,
Do pal ki khushi unke sath,
najane kahan chhut gaye,
Wo humse kyon ruth gaye,
Tor late tare bhi hum unke liye
us nile aasman se,
Mit jate hain nafrat bhi
es dhai akshar ke naam se,
Aashiyana hamare pyaar ka
najane kis samundar me dub gaye,
Wo humse kyon ruth gaye,
Ro diye hum bhi use yaad karke,
Kahan chale gaye wo mujhe barbaad karke,
Chale jayenge es suni duniya ko chhod
Rah jayenge tere liye hum bas ek khwab banke,
Pyaar ke kacche dhage aaj tut gaye,
Wo humse kyon ruth gaye,
wo humse kyon ruth gaye.......
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 8:17 AM UTC
Akela ** gya hoon tere bin jab se tune mujhe chhod diya,
Tor ke mera DIL mere pyar se jo yu mu'h mor liya,
Jab jab dekhi tujhe ye meri udas aankhen,
Chalak gye aansoo Jab yaad aai wo purani batein,
Kaise mitaoo sanam tera ye bharam,
Tujhe chahenge hum har janam,
Teri khusi me maine apni khusi ko dhundh liya,
Tu khush rahe sad'a eske liye maine rab se dua kiya,
Ab saare dard -e- gum bhula diye hum,
Tujhe chahenge hum janam -janam,
Ab har o pal tere bin main dard bhari yaado ke saath ji'h raha hoon,
Ekbar dekh lo mujhe ai jalim,
Tu kisi ke saath muskura rahi aur main akela ro'h raha hoon,
Puchh rahi ye duniya sari bewafa tum ya bewafa ** gye hum,
Tujhe chahenge hum janam janam,
Na mili mujhe tere sath jine ki khushi es janam to kya hua,
Tut gye hain hum, dil ko mere bahut dard hua ,
Khush ** jayengi zindagi meri jab es duniya ko chhod chale jayenge hum o bewafa sanam,
Tujhe chahenge hum har janam....
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 7:11 AM UTC
Stasis in darkness.
Then the substanceless blue
Pour of tor and distances.
God's lioness,
How one we grow,
Pivot of heels and knees! -- The furrow
Splits and passes, sister to
The brown arc
Of the neck I cannot catch,
Nigger-eye
Berries cast dark
Hooks ----
Black sweet blood mouthfuls,
Shadows.
Something else
Hauls me through air ----
Thighs, hair;
Flakes from my heels.
White
Godiva, I unpeel ----
Dead hands, dead stringencies.
And now I
Foam to wheat, a glitter of seas.
The child's cry
Melts in the wall.
And I
Am the arrow,
The dew that flies,
Suicidal, at one with the drive
Into the red
Eye, the cauldron of morning.
16.6k
Tune mujhe rula diya,
Waadein kar pyar ke,
Ek pal me bhula diya,
Yu to hum bhula dete tumhen,
Lekin ye Kambakhat dil hain,
Jo Tujhe yaad kar harbar
Mujhe rula diya......
Dekho mujhe sanam
Kitna udas hoon main,
Jite hua bhi tere bina
Ban gya ek zinda lash hoon main,
Tor kar mere sare sapne tune,
mere dil ko jakhmi bna diya,
Tune mujhe rula diya.....
Rota hain Manish dekh kar
Apni tuti kalame,
Kaise bhula di ai bewafa
Wo bite lamahen,
wo bite lamahen....
Gum aur Pyar ki ye kaisi Dosti,
Koi kisi ko rula diya to
Koi kisi ko hansa diya,
Aajtak pura na ** saka kisi ka pyaar,
Kyoki kisi ne pyaar ko hi
adhura bna diya,
tune mujhe rula diya,
Tune mujhe rula diya.....
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 9:53 AM UTC
Bewafa ** *** tum
Tor denge sare rishtey tumse,
Bhul jayenge tumhe
Nikal denge apne dil se,
Kyon kiya mohabbat
jab sath nibhana na tha,
tor ke ye dil mera
mujhe jab rulana hi tha,
Ab meri zindagi
dard se bhar *** hain,
Judai ka nam sunkar
Meri aakhen nam ** *** hain,
Ishq na karunga main
ab kisi se,
Chhut gya sath tumhara
tut gya hoon jab se,
Kaise kaise ye rishtey
Tut ke ye rula deti kisi ko,
Suru ** jata jina
Jab bante hain kisi ke saath
Naye rishtey,
Ye naye rishtey......
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 6:31 AM UTC
The flame in my flesh burns tor like
Above conventions of average humanity,
Propelled to hatred of their opposite
By the pristine charm in the streaks of culture,
Their Florence comes from the glory of orthodoxities
In the time long fibres of religious pockets,
Islam, Christian, Hinduism and all that steadily
And firmly in piety aver perfection of Godliness,
Forgetting the flame of same *** with oral spice
In the God made flesh of the dear lesbian daughter,
Spell binding the equivalent in blossoms of the gay,
Provoking hatred from the threatened heterosexists,
But the oral *** of a lesbian is an apex of human pleasure
Surpassing all on earth and in heaven, as no human barricade
Of whatsoever caliber will cull lesbian’s feelings
From the glorious power in the genitals on kiss of lips,
As the tongue of the chic wag from side to other
Touching fountains of ****** glory in cement of sameness
Throwing threats of law and black order to dustbins
And trash yards of anachronisms as the power of LGBT
Engulfs the young world into in its protégé,
Shamelessly tethered on the sensual tentacles
Of maximum gusto in the ***** of oral *** with a dear ‘less’
In tune with all rhythms of the times
Remaining strange to the conservatives,
Ever seeking pleasure from where pain hails
Living gloomy life on a brink of melancholia,
Worry not lesbian daughter you are powerful,
In one away or so, rise up and walk tall
You have power in your oral ***
Oral *** Oral *** Oral *** of a lesbian!
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 4:43 AM UTC
Tujhe apna banayenge hum....
Tujhe apne DIL me basayenge hum,
Tu muskurati rahe sada,
Esliye tere saare dukho ko churayenge hum,Tujhe apna banayenge hum,
Tujhe apna banayenge hum.....
Dhundhta hain dil bhi Tujhe mohabbat ke bazar me,
Ji raha hoon abhi tak teri hi intezar me,Chalkar kahi door PYAAmR Ka aasiyana banayenge hum,
Tujhe apna banayenge hum,
Tujhe apna banayenge hum......
Teri hi yaado me khoya hoon,
Kabhi khushi to kabhi gum ke aansoo roya hoon,
Tu kahe to sanam,
Tere liye chand taro ko tor layenge hum,Tujhe apna banayenge hum,
tujhe apna banayenge hum...
Tu etni door hain kaise bataoo tujhe,
Mere DIL me sirf tum ** kaise dikhaoo tujhe,Pyar to karte hawayen bhi Panchhio se
Tabhi to kahte hain
tujhe apni bahon me bharkar kahi dur chale jayenge hum,
Tujhe apna banayenge hum,
Tujhe apna banayenge hum....
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 2:00 AM UTC
Kahan kho gya hoon,
Main tera ** gya hoon,
Dekhlo sanam ekbar mujhe,
Main kya se kya ** gya hoon,
Main kya se kya ** gya hoon...
Kyon lut liye mere khawabo ko,
Kyon tor diye mere sare sapne bhi,
Tut gye sare rishte tujhse,
Kyon tor diya dil mera bhi....
Ab to tujhse juda hone ke
Dard me
Hansna bhi bhul gya hoon,
Dekh lo sanam mujhe,
Main kya se kya ** gya hoon,
Main kya se kya ** gya hoon.......
Tapak pari aansoo mere aankhon se,
Jab jab teri yaad aai....
Ruk jati kalam meri
Jab likhne ko tera nam aai....
Kahta hai Manish bhi
Apne DIL se,
Bhul jao use kyoki,
Main ab Patthar ka ** gya hoon,
Dekhlo sanam mujhe
tere pyar me
Main kya se kya ** gya hoon,
Main kya se kya ** gya hoon....
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 3:52 AM UTC
I have longed for this year since fourth grade
When I learned what a val-e-dic-tor-ian was
And realized I wanted to be one.
I have longed for this year since I was fifteen
And wanted to leave home
Go out and explore the bigger world
Free of parents and noisy siblings.
I have longed for this year since my first college tour
And I saw the hubbub
The libraries, the labs, the dorms, the giant sweatshirts
And noticed how small and quiet my high school was.
We picked out caps and gowns
Red
We lead the pep rallies now
The loudest yet
We're taking physics, and calculus, and the SATs
Feeling scholarly
We picked out how our names appear on our diplomas
First M. Last
We have our licenses
Drive to school
We fill out college applications endlessly
And endlessly...
We picked our prom theme
Great Gatsby
We're getting lazy very quickly
Senioritis
Graduation keeps us going
Graduation is the goal
Graduation is the light at the end of the tunnel
Graduation in June
Graduation in red polyester
Graduation in the sun
Graduation is the end
But wait.
Hold up.
Stop.
Stop.
STOP!
Seven more months with you?
You, who I've stared at for four years?
You, whose smiles make my day?
You, whose face I look for in crowds?
You, who are the most amazing person I've ever met?
You, who I haven't even asked out?
You, who have no idea who I feel?
You, who might by some miracle possibly feel the same way?
You, who I'll regret never making a move with for the rest of my life?
You?
Seven. Months.?
HOLD UP SENIOR YEAR SLOW DOWN GRADUATION THERE'S A BOY.
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC
Ai dil tu etna beqarar kyon hain,
Jise kabhi na thi teri fikra
wohi tere liye aaj khas kyon hain,
ai dil tu etna beqarar kyon hain. ..
Gam ke saye me ghut ghut ke ji raha hoon,
aanshuo ko apne jaam ki tarah pi raha hoon,
phir bhi meri aankhon me
teri hi aas kyon hain,
Ai dil tu etna beqarar kyon hain,
Ai dil tu etna beqarar kyon hain..
aasman me tujhko dhundhta hoon,
chand ki tarah tujhko pujta hoon,
aankhon me teri jhalak ke liye ek kasak kyon
hain,
ai dil tu etna beqarar kyon hain,
jise kabhi na thi teri fikra
wahi tere lia aaj khas kyon hain..
tumhare lia jo sajaye the sapne humne,
un sapno ko tor kahan chale gye tum,
aaj bhi teri yaadon ke
dil me mere ek khawab kyon hain,
ai dil tu etna beqarar kyon hain ..
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 9:25 AM UTC
.
Doctor
Doctor Doctor
Doctor Doctor Doc
tor Doctor Doctor D
Doctor Doctor
Doctor Doctor
Doctor Doctor
Doctor Doctor
Doctor Doctor
Doctor Doctor
Doctor Doctor
Doctor Doctor
Doctor Doctor
Doctor Doctor
Doctor Doctor
Doctor Doctor
Doctor Doctor
Doctor Doctor Doctor Doctor
Doctor Doctor Doctor Doctor Doc
Doctor Doctor Doctor Doctor
Doctor Doctor
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 6:14 PM UTC
.
Legos
Rubik ' s Cube
Stress ***** Top
Squirt gun Yo-yo
Slinky GI Joe Hot
Wheels Action F
igures Col lectibl
e Puzzles Etch A
SketchStuffed An
imals Marbles Do
llsCards Kite Perp
plexus Le a p Pad
Magic School Bus
Micro s co p e Kit
Vibrating Rubber Duck
ie Handcuffs Oral *** Strip
Glowing Stretchy Vibrating *****
Doll theLibera tor Soloflesh
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 2:55 PM UTC
Some times tremors of foolish wise thoughts,
pass man's mind like waves of earth quakes
across the muscles of unsuspecting earth,
to day one of the type has visited my brain,
i ask myself why John F Kennedy committed suicide,
with all the resources and riches in America of Kennedy's time,
The FBI, CIA, NATO and the shrewd Mozart, the security masters
of the world's vogue all guarding the Kennedy the president,
how came that the public imbecile had claim on his life,
money overflowing like the waters of River Congo,
into insatiable Atlantic basin is the simplest measure
of American riches that Kennedy headed at his time of demise,
full backed with intellect matchless muscle from study of history,
eloquent like the weaver birds of Uganda in the city of Mbale,
sending all packing in the likes of Nehru, Nyerere and Nkrumah,
perhaps subdueable in single phase to the mighty of Castro,
how comes that a madman killed Kennedy in the fullness of the day,
was it the invisible hand of the Ku klux **** Synagogue of Satan or Freemason,
the death of Kennedy is none other than beautiful suicide
or the active curse of fate, misfortune and violent death.
Why Nkrumah died out of power was political suicide,
his knowledge of the world set African pace,
towering mentally above all else in the chronicles of consciesism,
he stood like a tor on the African mountains against Senghor
Why Colonel Afrifa putsched Nkrumah is none else
other that suicidal politics played at helm of power.
why Tom Mboya died is suicide of suicides
to believe that reason can overwhelm ethnic sentiments
in a tribal consciousness of country like Kenya
in time of Kenyatta,
to foolishly conceive that Kikuyu can assassinate a Kikuyu
was Luo foolishness of that particular century,
it is Mboya who bought the gun that shot him dead,
it is Mboya who bankrolled his own assassin
he brought to the world political suicide of the century.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 5:52 AM UTC
That you are fair or wise is vain,
Or strong, or rich, or generous;
You must have also the untaught strain
That sheds beauty on the rose.
There is a melody born of melody,
Which melts the world into a sea.
Toil could never compass it,
Art its height could never hit,
It came never out of wit,
But a music music-born
Well may Jove and Juno scorn.
Thy beauty, if it lack the fire
Which drives me mad with sweet desire,
What boots it? what the soldier's mail,
Unless he conquer and prevail?
What all the goods thy pride which lift,
If thou pine for another's gift?
Alas! that one is born in blight,
Victim of perpetual slight;—
When thou lookest in his face,
Thy heart saith, Brother! go thy ways!
None shall ask thee what thou doest,
Or care a rush for what thou knowest,
Or listen when thou repliest,
Or remember where thou liest,
Or how thy supper is sodden,—
And another is born
To make the sun forgotten.
Surely he carries a talisman
Under his tongue;
Broad are his shoulders, and strong,
And his eye is scornful,
Threatening, and young.
I hold it of little matter,
Whether your jewel be of pure water,
A rose diamond or a white,—
But whether it dazzle me with light.
I care not how you are drest,
In the coarsest, or in the best,
Nor whether your name is base or brave,
Nor tor the fashion of your behavior,—
But whether you charm me,
Bid my bread feed, and my fire warm me,
And dress up nature in your favor.
One thing is forever good,
That one thing is success,—
Dear to the Eumenides,
And to all the heavenly brood.
Who bides at home, nor looks abroad,
Carries the eagles, and masters the sword.
3.8k
Coastline, rocky, rugged, proud,
Crumbling cliffs in ozone shroud,
Sun-kissed drifts of desert sand,
Golden frame of a sea cradled land.
Fishing village, atmospheric hub,
Brass band playing, outside quaint old pub,
Boats, all sizes, rest near harbour wall,
Wading birds sift through tide-filled pool.
Foliage explosion of a Cornish hedge,
Country lanes snake, and young birds fledge,
Ruminants, punctuating, quilted hill,
Buzzards soar and wise hares are still.
Tin mine engine house, towering stack,
Roof caved in, gorse and bracken’s back,
White clay peak, geometrical and sleek,
Earth’s riches gouged, canyon deep.
Moor-land, open, untamed, granite strewn,
Wild ponies dance to a skylark’s tune,
Tor and beacon, barrow and mound,
You’re in God’s own country, when you walk this ground.
Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 5:05 AM UTC
She'll brew a *** of bliss and then she'll pour it in your cup
She'll dance around the room until the gloom is all drunk up
She's not your normal angel, boy and of that you should be glad
For she fills a parlour naked more than many girls do clad
She's an angel from Newfoundland and St. Andrews knew her well
She's certainly no Flatrock as Tickle Harbour's boys can tell
And Jackson's and Chapple's Arms they both have been in her's
She's even been to Merasheen don't tell the other girls
Her "H"s have an "H" in them and her voice a lilting sound
But if you want sincerity no better can be found
Her love's as pure as dynamite she'll blow you off the shelf
She'll make your whisker hairs stand up and your little man an elf
She's an angel now in Tor-onto, On-tar-i-ario
She moved there when her parents died and she didn't know where to go
Ah, Mississauga knows her well and so does Hamilton
But Toronto is the place to be when she is having fun
She says she works a fancy bar called the Iron Cross Cha-pel
Where pretty men come in all dressed up and cuss and kiss as well
She cannot find a boyfriend there but she has lots of dates
They give her lots of Ecstasy and tell her it's not ****
She's an angel from Newfoundland and St. Andrews knew her well
She's certainly no Flatrock as Tickle Harbour's boys can tell
And Jackson's and Chapple's Arms they both have been in her's
She's even been to Merasheen don't tell the other girls
Jun 28, 2012
Jun 28, 2012 at 7:05 PM UTC
Trump and Brexit,
Two beautiful scrolls in a sync
Singing a song of white nationalism
On the crest in the Ivy League station,
Busy Muffling the **** drop sounds
On the bowls of foot-loose beggars,
A lesson for you dark son of Africa
That tomfoolery is no defense before
The rational altar of Trump and Brexit
Riding on followership’s bitter hangover
For the Nostalgia of the waning glory,
Sired by Machiavelli, groomed by ******
Festooned by Mussolini into a Jim Crow tor,
But fault not them, that is politics or religion,
Always sweet only in full gear of power-piety,
Then Nurture your tiny ***** for no pawn earns it,
To pile your wood for pharaonic winter is obvious
In paranoia of Brexit and Trumpish megalomania
Coming in a stampede with Tigre’s thorax, only
To worry us for nothing as it is the fear of change
Truly, they are not the first clouds in the sky
Of global terror and politics of self-idolatry,
Soon to vamoose in service to their nature
Of aureate appearing to whimpering fade,
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 5:24 AM UTC
'mma comm'ner!
'mma comm'ner!
Whild it
Port 'rhet above,
'im down
F'rsaken.
Afore'd!
Allay'd!
De' the round,
De' the Bayck
Brent of stick
Wally a'bock
Rayne
A'doon, a'tunya, Mekker'un
A 'block, a moon.
The Rhine, 'ya dance 'ya
In the Maine
Yal 'amo
Tor'red ett'on
Fer tha'dance 'ya
Fer tha'roon
Allek 'un daree'ya
Mag'k ung Garee 'ya.
Jan 5, 2010
Jan 5, 2010 at 4:10 PM UTC
Harsh wind screaming
moaning
with the crisp bite of Autumn night
Dark shadows dancing
tossing
with the branches of bare grey Elms
The lanes are winding
uncurling
in the pale orange glow of headlights
Sudden hedgerows
green
edging the limits of the night
Power-cut darkness all around
silhouettes
strange in the headlight beam
No farm lights distant on the Tor
guiding
beacons of open field and place
Cottages shuddering their thatching
thrilled
chimneys smoking message-morse
Pub signs banging wildly
flapping
in a crazy dance
inside candles flickering
distorted
patterns in tiny panes of rounded glass
Old stone steeple steady
dull toned bell
catching
a ride on the wind to the copse
And still the lanes thread out
beam-born
a ribbon of pebbles and stone
stretching into the night
until they melt
into the flat black tarmac
of the motorway.
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 5:35 AM UTC
a gypsy wind
don't ever stay
a gypsy wind
roams his own way
to one scene
he'll not be bound
cause his spirit yearns
for freedom's ground
the route to leave
loose of grail
the highway calls
liberty's trail
a drifter lives
in his soul's core
venturing every
tor and sandy shore
roads open
he'll always travel
seeking out
unlimited gravel
a gypsy wind
don't ever stay
a gypsy wind
roams his own way
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 6:35 PM UTC
monstrous sound slashes silence
the bellow of a giant beast,
the flutter of a thousand wings
elevation and indiscriminate creed will not heed
sinister stirs the mix, the rise of wicked extravagance
black feathers flutter to bewilder against the pale frontier
the mock of a starlings flight, the fall in a sparrow’s might
countless sullen wings unfold, to rally their squadrons for show
a mobbing cry meets a redeeming sky,
their rising tones mimic heaven heralding high
contrast to the core, countless black rap-tor destroy
the fading blue sapphire display
a rebel twist in the storm suspends them again
harbingers dawning
a verge of wonder, stands close
the small dark outlines, bask a golden shine
peripheries slight motion, a graceful shimmer
perched as an alert, the slight snap of the fingers
a single feather cascades
turning in the elegant dance of a ballerina's descent
laying at the step vaguely pointing to the entrance,
the pride of a black bird,
there is no place for an Omen here,
one last frailty, is my secret near and dear
Terry D’Arcy-Ryan
Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 6:51 PM UTC
Etched into my dream memory.Joy, laughter, regret, despairThat moment, frozen in time,A piece of myself reflected in a landscape,The hills of my heart blur and fade….Sharpen and sing.
Feb 24, 2010
Feb 24, 2010 at 1:17 AM UTC