Emi GS

I know AC's prompts just pull your poetic self out. So does his suggestions give a boost. You have did great on this. Especially the last line. Loved the way you have portrayed it.

You made me feel and cry. That's all I can say...

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'

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.

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

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

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

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'...

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.. 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

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

The Truth A glitch Or confusion Or the meddlesomeness Neither comes to my concern but The truth

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

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

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

From Boy to A Man Lips might never remember When a hearty laughter Turned into a knowing smirk Crimson cheeks never recall How boyish they were before Blood started to fill with emotion Healthy pecs never know What made them curvy and fit From the baby smooth muscles Whole body never think of The adventurous religious experience It went through to become A whole new creature with The comical tender packages How innocent one was before They realise their life started A new page, new era, new emotions Before they step forward To become whole again Fast Breath With a fast breath I went rigid and sweaty And stepped forward, in life, To become a man