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' Live-Poets Society ' – A Corner For Poetry


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4 hours ago, Emi GS said:

नफरत

प्यार से बढ़कर बेहद नशा 
नफरत में ही होती है ||
और
नफरत से बड़ी बर्बादी
दुनिया में होती ही नहीं ||

...not a happy poem, Emi. hugs 

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The Garden City 

A tremendous tree for every ten feet
Manmade metal machines roam around
Countable more than trees in the sight
Soap-alike boxy buildings, side-by-side
Dividing them, wide pure black roads of tar
Underground tunnels for the debris
Endless varied opportunities afar
Different smiles and colours of skins
No room for one to walk beside another
With artificial laughs and greedy kinship
Enjoying the amusing cool weather
The Garden City glooms with worship

 

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It's Raining Backwards

It's started to rain, in backwards
All the clouds started pulling
Every puddle out of the earth
Drop by drop they filled

It's started to rain, in backwards 
Sqalls succumbed by the trees
Absorbing the musky air, filled with dirt, 
From the observant manly nose

It's started to rain, in backwards 
Lands illuminated electrical shots
Draining colours to result in white
Sparkly spread throughout the sky 

It's started to rain, in backwards
Mighty roar reflected from the hills
To patch up between haze and to
Lighten the gap to maintain level 

It's started to rain, in backwards 
Just like my poem's spirit of
My definition and my ideation
Against my heart's desires 

 

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On 4/22/2019 at 11:05 AM, Emi GS said:

 

It's Raining Backwards

It's started to rain, in backwards
All the clouds started pulling
Every puddle out of the earth
Drop by drop they filled

It's started to rain, in backwards 
Sqalls succumbed by the trees
Absorbing the musky air, filled with dirt, 
From the observant manly nose

It's started to rain, in backwards 
Lands illuminated electrical shots
Draining colours to result in white
Sparkly spread throughout the sky 

It's started to rain, in backwards
Mighty roar reflected from the hills
To patch up between haze and to
Lighten the gap to maintain level 

It's started to rain, in backwards 
Just like my poem's spirit of
My definition and my ideation
Against my heart's desires 

 

This is a very interesting and engaging poem... intriguing

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On 4/22/2019 at 2:05 PM, Emi GS said:

 

It's Raining Backwards

It's started to rain, in backwards
All the clouds started pulling
Every puddle out of the earth
Drop by drop they filled

It's started to rain, in backwards 
Sqalls succumbed by the trees
Absorbing the musky air, filled with dirt, 
From the observant manly nose

It's started to rain, in backwards 
Lands illuminated electrical shots
Draining colours to result in white
Sparkly spread throughout the sky 

It's started to rain, in backwards
Mighty roar reflected from the hills
To patch up between haze and to
Lighten the gap to maintain level 

It's started to rain, in backwards 
Just like my poem's spirit of
My definition and my ideation
Against my heart's desires 

 

I like this very much, Emi. 

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Mystic

There is a sacred place
Mysterious to the world 
Deep within my heart

Guarded for the pity life
Where I hid my loneliness
There is a sacred place 

The stains soaked through the skin 
From the tears of the gruesome past
Deep within my heart

Scars from the reality burns
Through the fears of uncertain future 
Hope; there is a sacred place

The soul beseeching to be left unhurt
Erasing the pain and it's trace
There is a sacred place
So deep within my heart

 

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A piece from today's poem. Need some changes to be done. So the total poem will be published soon or may be in my eBook.. :P

 

Nor I know, hardly, of any Chinese poets
Neither their taste for the rice wine
Or the poet friends of them
Neither about the high mountains they live 

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Only Once

A wishing star might have fallen 
Directly on to me to have this fortune
He stands right behind me
Breathing the essence of my neck 
I was unaware of his presence
Until the announcement of a late train

 

'Do we have to buy that ticket'
I ask turning to him, in a daze
He smiles, breath taking smile— I thought, 
And say, 'We better buy and wait'


Wait, we did. Spacing ourselves out
Talking and laughing, even sharing 
The Chinese noodles he fondly bought


We catch another train, using the same ticket
The break van was the only coach
Which was empty for the passengers


With all the people trashed into the coach
And he stand very very close to me, 
Exchanging breaths from one another, 
Holding onto each other's waists
Just like posing for a Salsa dance


He smiles again, crimson spreading
To his cheeks from mine, through touch
I can feel the smooth skin under my fingers
Now there comes the spoiler, my stop
With  the promise of meeting again
I get off the train waving my hand, a good bye
He smiles back, again that killer smile 

 

Now he is a memory of nine years past
Just living in my world as they say, 'Only Once'...

 

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A Crazy Day

As groovy as fab it looks
Is a hell of a day, today 
Not even a fair time, I might add
Cool breeze is out of question 
Blazing sun was absent as well
Laziness isn't active either
Nor is there the mood of fun
And minute by minute I count 
For it to end erratically  

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The Way It Is 

A boundary of life was set
From one's birth until death
Never to be intense or carefree 
Every minute was planned
And counted second by second 
May be it was the way it is
Or was it supposed to be 


Be You 

Be warm
Embrace the life
Betray the boundaries
Find your reason and break open
Be you 

 

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Red Shirt On The Wall

Got ignored
Stained and left to wither 
A fashion circus once
Now hanging on the wall
Putting the paint to shame
May be it is the human nature
To strive for the things
That resemble for
Them better appearance 
Only to be trashed once
Their purpose was done

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Soul Search

A person! A son! A merit student! A caretaker! A brother!  A friend!  A well wisher!  A neighbour! What am I!?   What is my purpose in this world?

A lone journey I had began, where there were boundaries set. The things happened around me, might have occurred to fulfil the destiny I was bound. Those happy and sad moments. Those deaths. And the first breaths in my lap, as I hold them dearly. These are all have some link with me. My life.  An eternal link. May be this was my purpose. May be that was my destiny. Or the very reason for my existence in this world.

I was once afraid that I would die alone. But the thinking made my mind clear. No one in this world were born without a reason. Every person. Every life. Everything. Was have their part of play in this world. Everybody's part was unknown to them. Or it stay unknown even they recognise it earlier. Or they prefer it that way. But they do perform their part.

Either it was a small character, which might bring extreme joy. And or sadness. And sometimes nothing. Nothing at all.

Or a character of subjectively important. Very important that their very existence made sense to a whole set of lives. The others make one that way. To weigh the burden or to command their way into the society or to be blamed. 

And sometimes one's character will be nothing but existence. A character nonetheless. Some may step in front and do their job with perfection. And some might stay in the background and do their part without recognition.

I know that at some phase in life, at some part, I have been a front character, even though I wanted to be in the background and stay in the darkness. A darkness of solace mind. Or a wishful thing may be. But my heart always looked for the light and brought me forward where everyone else were bailing out of their stand.

And the result is always the same. Broken. Ignored. The pain and misery and the heartache never leave me. But my heart still look for the light. A light never exists. Or still hidden and never found by anyone. 

Edited by Emi GS
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10 hours ago, AC Benus said:

I wrote a little poem today 

Tanka:

Sweep, sweep the petals 
gathered at the shop's doorway;
one wandering soul's job
to gather the gay remains 
of a spring fading away.  
 

a beautiful picture, vivid and clear in my mind's eye.  thanks AC xo

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I just wrote this tanka-stanza poem. It's inspired by a CNN video where an Orlando policeman says in essence "You can't kill our Gays..." 

The poem is not about that, but what a person can read in the comments. I'm missing a word for line two...any ideas are appreciated :)

 

One hundred and nine

___ trooping of the colors -- 

just one video 

of support and compassion

tagged "fake news," One. Hundred. Times...  

 

 

Edited by AC Benus
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2 hours ago, AC Benus said:

I just wrote this tanka-stanza poem. It's inspired by a CNN video where an Orlando policeman says in essence "You can't kill our Gays..." 

The poem is not about that, but what a person can read in the comments. I'm missing a word for line two...any ideas are appreciated :)

 

One hundred and nine

___ trooping of the colors -- 

just one video 

of support and compassion

tagged "fake news," One. Hundred. Times...  

 

 

 

I am not going to cry on this or be sad. That 'fake news'  guys will always encounter in our daily lives. We can't change them. Buy guys like this Lieutenant will always comes to the light and support us. And we have to appreciate their efforts always. 

 

As for your poem,  I don't know how much of a help I can be. But here is a suggestion... 

'Support trooping the colours'

'prop trooping of the colours'

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3 hours ago, AC Benus said:

I just wrote this tanka-stanza poem. It's inspired by a CNN video where an Orlando policeman says in essence "You can't kill our Gays..." 

The poem is not about that, but what a person can read in the comments. I'm missing a word for line two...any ideas are appreciated :)

 

One hundred and nine

___ trooping of the colors -- 

just one video 

of support and compassion

tagged "fake news," One. Hundred. Times...  

 

 

Elation and scorn

mix in equal proportions 

as I receive this;

love for those who stand with us,

none for them who run from truth. 

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Transform

You have the ability to turn your weakness into your strength.
It does not matter at all the length.
You have so much power just like the storm.
It has the ability, like you, to transform.
It has the ability with rain to make flowers grow,
And, with the sun, it makes them all show.
You, too, like the storm, can create what is great.
From a seed, grows a tree and it becomes free.
If you ever doubt, remember it once was small.
And that beed and seed, now stand tall.
It simply gave it time and the appropriate things,
And then grew into a place where each bird sings.
Turn the worst into the best.
 Shine amongst the rest.
Stand tall.
You are not small.
Never forget,
Never fear,
And, you will live a life, blessed as you read this here.

-Julian William Taylor

Wrote this in about 4 minutes, today. I hope you enjoy. 🍷🌹👑

Edited by Asher25
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