"wihout" poems
Raindrop oh raindrop
I like every drop
But there was a girl that's been trapped
Inside a small but breakable raindrop
It is no ordinary raindrop
It is like a crystal
It's very fragile
Raindrops were like her teardrops
Slowly streams down her face
Tears that would like to race
No one will took a interest
To a simple raindrop
When will this storm stop?
Raindrops keep falling on the ground
But how about the fragile one?
Would it break to pieces?
How the girl wish she would be catch by someone
It's hard to fall wihout being catched by anyone
You'll be the broken one
Raindrop oh raindrop
Keep falling
Still flowing
Then now I am slowly breaking
Iniside this raindrop
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 8:11 PM UTC
A flame wihout its
heat is as useless as a poetry without a thought.
What is man without a soul? Can he be called human at all? How
useful is an empty house that stands on a barren hill? A man
not capable of thinking? A blank book? Or a sun without the grace of a fire? How good is
the wind without the trees? Or the birds that worship its strength? How good is the ocean without
the fishes? Or the human that embraces its wealth? All things are interconnected and interdependent.
Like air to mankind and to the trees. And trees to mankind and to the soil. Like air to the waters.
Waters to mankind. Waters to the soil. As fire to man as to the trees. Mankind to the trees and
to the soil. And trees to the soil, fire to the soil, man, fire. Fire and man. The fire within a man. Enflaming
the soul of another man. We are all relatives in the dance of life. We are integral part of the earth.
The air, the waters, the sun and the moon. Everything is hitched to everything else. The air,
the waters, the sun and the moon. The salt of the ocean is in our blood. The calcium of the rocks
is in our bones. The genes of ten thousand generations is in our cells. The fire of the sun king is in our spirits. The might of the winds is in our lungs. The most powerful element of the universe is in our hearts. The mighty winds
rage and we bend for them. The fields yield and we kneel for them. The blossoms open and we rejoice.
One could not pluck a flower without hurting a star. The wolves could not haunt for a
meal without troubling a heart. An atom could not deteriorate without worrying
the universe. But along
the way man seems
to forget. And most
of the time, man does
not pay attention to
its depth. Man be-
comes too ignorant
to understand. That
man is the heart of it
all. The pulse that keeps
the system alive. Man ne-
eds not observe but feel. M
an needs to penetrate quite-
ly as earthworms. Underst-
ands as soils absorb water. Pon-
der as the winds gather strength. Spread
as the vines that overrun the yard. Let your flame be the
guiding light.Do not let it be the fire that burns.
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 12:28 AM UTC
I was about to break down
when a friend came in.
she told me stories of wisdom,
inspite of my grin.
inspite of everything,
same insecurities I've fell on,
adviced and reminded me,
not to apprehend expectations.
She gave and lifted,
when I was deep down.
with her easy approach,
had released myself in frown.
Her knowledge base foundation,
she earned by timed waiting.
shared and inspired,
even wihout a smoke and wine.
She sailed my boat,
without an equal exchange.
lend an even-honest ear,
unlocked my heart in cage,
from these black biles,
that turns off the tide.
mere worries and immaturities,
are thrown and kept aside.
Now, how very lucky I am,
to have this heaven sent.
A rare, and precious jewel,
A real gem of a Friend.
May 1, 2011
May 1, 2011 at 1:41 AM UTC
At twentythirtyfour
On the eleventhofseptember
a neuropathological tracer
Jumped from the box,
Lost poem; a title over rain
men waving tins at a tractor,
And the later sleeping wihout
Rest; rooms full of waves,
the ineluctable modality of water.
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 11:18 AM UTC
I have no guidence.
Searched on every summit
for some lost elusive cure,
and for the alchemy to make
me feel like I was pure.
Violently, I've torn through
the marrow of all I am,
begging every single deity
I've known for their hand.
I have no peace.
Maybe healing will never surface,
Maybe muffled by the sand.
A doctrine for the hopeful,
Who will never understand.
Wounds have always held
Daggers that were never removed.
What if pain protects the heart
Because it never is renewed?
I have no harmony.
Singing broken hymns can birth
another's hymn of praise.
Unspoken cosmic laws that state
Examples must be made.
I am never truly broken,
I can wish to be in time,
But I remain a quantum sonnet,
That is void of any rhyme.
I have no exit.
Maybe there is grace that lives
Within my wilted plea.
In knowing, I'm exactly
Who I knew I'd always be.
In a life of pulling chains,
Tethered to a hopeless mind.
What is left within a soul,
To see a purpose that's divine,
Without the residue of ash
From embers charring bone?
Without emotions echoes,
That have turned it into stone.
The cold sweat of empathy
For the fellow misbegotten.
Or wihout the twitching nerves
Of a body that is rotten.
I have no dreams.
I cannot find belief in me
For false restoration.
No longer a beggar for
A hollowed-out salvation.
I walk with aching fractures
To a rapture born in rust.
A fate I feel deep in my core,
That all is made of dust.
I have no reasons.
What's the purpose
For this riddle I weave?
Is there truth in what remains,
Or is truth in what will leave?
As I stand, a withered body,
weeping now without a plea.
I am all I ever was,
All I've known I'd ever be.
I have no future.
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025 at 4:46 PM UTC
Soul is such a worn thing
Nobody knows what it means to have a soul
Does souls live forever or have any expiration date?
Does everybody have a soul?
Does anybody feel their soul breathing through their chest?
Or is just a thing that lives and dies silently in your nose
Once I'd met this girls whose soul been stolen by a cat
She'd past a whole summer looking for it until she gave up
And decide it was worthless
Life wihout a soul it's like have live and never had go to India
Or like eating cereal wihout pouring milk in the bowl
I guess some might say that I'm wrong
And a soul it's a requirement for a fulfilling life
You need a soul in order to appreciate art
Or to feel love
Or to cough, sneeze and ****
But I've been living without even been live inside
And so far it has work out for me
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 2:37 PM UTC