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asamvav111

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Everything posted by asamvav111

  1. asamvav111
    Ben has provided us with not so few wonderful poetry prompts. You may start from there. Bonne chance, Sasha & Adi. Welcome.
  2. asamvav111
    Hang in there. As for your writing and words and modern music : There are meds for heart failure and for the depression and heart break may be more music : Hugs and Chocolates.
  3. asamvav111
    There is a typo honey, Dravan likhne ke jayge pe aapne dvaaran likh dia. And the English version is far more matured than the Hindi one.
  4. asamvav111
    The poems in question can be found here: http://www.gayauthors.org/forums/topic/41190-live-poets-society-%E2%80%93-a-corner-for-poetry/page-53
  5. asamvav111
    For Ben & Timmy: Good poems frolic in the sun. They bring Arctic Lights to the barren tundra. They also manage to inundate the soils of Egypt and blow khamsins over the salt flats of Kutch in the very same day. Good poems deserve a kiss and a wink. 23/09/2016 ©asamvav111
  6. asamvav111
    From the perspective of a young boy who was terrified of the thunder and would often find solace in the embrace of a motherly elder sister during the torrential monsoons famous in India, I absolutely adore the first one. And the second one brings me smiles to see such chemistry of words. Your boyfriend is indeed a lucky man, Mr. Owens, if you shower him with such delicate attention on a regular basis. P.S. your form is very commanding.
  7. asamvav111
    For Ben & Timmy: Good poems frolic in the sun. They bring Arctic Lights to the barren tundra. They also manage to inundate the soils of Egypt and blow khamsins over the salt flats of Kutch in the very same day. Good poems deserve a kiss and a wink. 23/09/2016
  8. asamvav111
    This one is exceptionally good one in both form and message. I think it is talking about such a complex emotion, I am glad that you managed to put something on the paper. A job well done.
  9. asamvav111
    This is a good poem.
  10. asamvav111
    I am horrible at commenting & reviewing. I don't read poetry like prose, just one page after another. Right now I am stuck on Sonnet no 3. It's state of sensuous languor has reached a zenith. Who is Tony?
  11. asamvav111
    Hey
  12. asamvav111
    A kiss for AC for the poem above. God bless the bard forever in love.
  13. asamvav111
    http://gitabitan-en.blogspot.in/2010/10/if-to-your-call-none-come-forth.html The question is not how the world weighs you, but how you weigh yourself? What are you worth to yourself? Your parents may think you a waste of space, your ex may call you a money bag, your friends may think you are clingy and annoying, but does that define who you are to yourself? I hope not. 'Cause if it does then you are letting others define you. You are leaving yourself at others mercy. And the world is a pretty ruthless place. Stand tall. Hugs.
  14. asamvav111
    That's the thing, I don't believe a tag should direct the reader's experience. A good poem has infinite facets and each of them is equally true. What irked me was that I was unable to express fully what I set out to do; That I may have overdone the florid decorations so much that the flavour of the underlying cake has become icing creamy. Thank you for your review.
  15. asamvav111
    Ayurvedic remedy for something that needs extraction is... extraction. Bonne chance.
  16. asamvav111

    Chapter 40

    asamvav111 commented on Comicality's story chapter in Chapter 40

    Chapters like this make the wait worth while.
  17. asamvav111
    About "Fragments" : Did Emi really not get that this a twisted rapist's pov on the rape and the victim? His comment has me confused. Did I not communicate that effectively?
  18. asamvav111
    New stuff. Still thinking if I should have added a trigger warning. Meh. Peace. https://www.gayauthors.org/forums/blog/482/entry-16396-fragments/ Edit: on second thought I added a "rape" tag just in case. so you have been warned.
  19. asamvav111
    Good stories never end. They just begin a new chapter. Fragments were our destiny. Our fate doomed the first time I saw you smile. Your eyes were filled with the moist heat of the mid summer mango grove's shady effervescent infrangible delight. Your movements took shape in the delicate prowess of a mountain leopard. Your form undulating to the beats that broke down the unyielding barrier of disaffection. And your gentle grace that stoked the hopes of an arid wanderer. But it wasn't to last forever. We only receive fragments as our due. When I finally held you in my arms, your pliant silhouette unresisting my fervid advances, we soared to the high heavens of unhindered pleasure. Under the influence of the myriad drugs that I had mixed in your drinks all evening, you kept repeating your mantra in stilted breath. "This is not happening to me." Yet it did. We had our sweet moments together. The moments I immortalized in the waiting eye of the lens. Thus our fragment shall forever be mine. My own love child, a secret to cherish and protect. Yet it pains me to see you walk away, amnesic of my passionate embrace. To see fear crowding those eyes that once held bequest of a rest, it cuts me deep. Shattering me in the many fragments that were once you and I. 18/08/2016 ©asamvav111
  20. asamvav111
    Happy belated birthday! Weight gained can be lost. Cataract surgeries are pretty simple, short & effective. Skin cancer is a scare but treatments are available. No Driving is a drag, true... but there are ways to get groceries delivered at the door step. You will write when you feel the urge to. And things are never important if you intend to give up. Don't give up. There are still much of life unexplored and both happy and sad experiences will come your way.
  21. asamvav111
    sending prayers your way. hugs.
  22. asamvav111
    Somebody told me I should share my poetry here. So take a look : https://www.gayauthors.org/forums/blog/482/entry-16388-returning-sunshine/ oh btw, this is a seriously cool place. Ciao.
  23. asamvav111
    You kept telling me how I took up all the space in our relationship. How you needed to get away To get a way around the things in your head... Blasphemy. I believe I was still in your head. And stuck in the chambers of your heart, Your entrails shackling me to the walls of inferiority. Understanding your grudging affection Took up most of my daylight, yet you kept Asking for more... more space in your head. More air to breath, you sought out the nearest Island of wasted youth. More experiences, You needed more sensations, to expound The theories on space in relationships. I kept enabling you. I provided you More space, more air, more sensations. And when I finally went bone dry, Not a tear to spare, Your rampage stopped. I felt violated. I wanted to throw up. I couldn't. I wanted to cease to exist. I couldn't. And when I looked up towards the sky Bereft of all hopes of all illusions of all boundaries and burdens, I found myself attrited in the returning sunshine. 09/08/2016 ©asamvav111
  24. asamvav111
    Thank you for your kind words. I don't like the tag author personally. A lot of great writing is shared over blogs here in GA. It used to be a lot more. In any case I am happy to share my really occasional spew over here. Thank you for your love and encouragement. Happiness to all.
  25. asamvav111
    Somewhere on the other side of the rainbow, in a land far far away, there will be a tree. An old majestic tree it will be, with its red, green and purple leaves, and its ancient curved branches extending their embrace from one horizon to another, standing solemnly in an emerald valley beneath the starry night in a solitary prayer. Underneath that tree old mossy stones will hibernate while snuggling the roots that reach the deepest crevices of earth in search of the sweet moisture and warmth of the old world. Little critters will live amongst them. A single blossoming vine of unnamed untamed wild flower shall entwine the expansive trunk all the way reaching the lowest branches. Sweet fragrance of the moist earth mixed with the green perfume of the arbour will permeate the shaded ambiance. And when sudden breezes shall play through the tunnels of the foliage and crosshatching of the branches, it will sound the sonorous melody of the windpipes of Pan. And the filtered moonlight of the November Lune shall silver the dark mahogany of the bark. Together they will create an ethereal opera of sublime thrills. Together we will meet under that tree… in another life. Promise. 22/07/16 ©asamvav111
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