written word

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 written
spoken ^ Word

I lived everyday but did not exude life.
I wake up to light and now I know why.
Waking and living and loving through the numbered days.

Loving the senses and sensations but not stopping there.
People see my skin, my eyes.
I love my smile and that’s all fine.

I see more, something that resides then recedes.
Like the failure to notice a blink.
I heard them say this and that.
I took that and called it mine.

But I leave, I give it up now.
I wake up to light, polish my heart.
So when it shines a little more than it did before, my skin glows bright.
And my eyes, my smile.
And day by day, that light will permeate out of my skin.
I will glow, I glow. And I will be alive, so alive.

A Children’s Story for Adults

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There was once a cow named Molly. She was brown, white and black all at the same time. A family of humans adopted her when she was small and now she is big. Her meal was brought to her in big steal bowl, mostly cut grass, while on some occasions beans, chickpeas were also mixed in.

Now the family has moved to a big house with a big farm. The farm is double the size of the house, all for Molly to graze. Sunlight, fresh grass, and lots of space was hers. Molly’s human family planted some plants along the fence that was blocked Molly from the road. Molly could not tell where the farm began and ended, assumed the family.

Molly started chewing at some plants and the humans told her not to do so but Molly couldn’t understand the language. Molly continued to go at the plants so the humans guided her to the other side of the farm and the cow followed. But under no inspection, Molly sometimes went and gnawed at some plants. Humans assessed the situation and tied Molly up to a post on the porch.

Molly was baffled and confused and hungry the next day but she wasn’t allowed to graze her farm without a human present. So she had to wait but Molly did not know she had to wait for her human family to return home from work. Molly grew hungrier and irritable. She mooed and mooed but nobody let her noose loose. Molly decided to sit down and save her energy. She noticed some plants growing at the porch close to her but out of her reach. She felt hungry but couldn’t reach the plants.

When the humans returned they let Molly graze in the field. Molly was the happiest. She was eating grass and yet again stumbled upon the plants near the fence. The plants reminded her of the porch she was tied to and she turned around and kept to the grass. Molly never ate the plants again.

Humans believed that Molly has learnt her the lesson to not eat the plants after she had been punished for a day.

Journal Entry: Indian Chronicles (1)

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That’s actually a lie to be honest; this is not my first piece of writing since I have been in India. I wrote many a handwritten notes – a scribble here, a poem there – in borrowed sheets of paper of all different shapes and sizes that I have tucked away in a small file. I was just falsely hoping that all those thoughts, although spaced in time, will just make sense if put together neatly in one place. So yeah, this is my first official entry and I made it possible because I, myself, am not spaced in time, not anymore because I have accepted the CHANGE. . .

I will keep the beginning short. I have lived away from home (New Delhi home) for eight years for studying away and abroad. New Delhi is where I was born and where my lovely parents and siblings live and so does my extended family.
The last year had been so wonderful for me and thus for my friendships, education, finances, with some but very few hiccups. However there was this ominous gnawing feeling that I consciously kept creating (over and over) out of the fear that since things were going fairly well, something bad was sure to follow.

As the previous year began to end, I was informed that my visa was not available for renewal and then further advised it would be up for renewal if I were to leave and re-enter the US of A. And I thought: phew! That’s not bad at all, I could just fly to India and have that taken care of. I was scared all year for nothing, I thought. With just one piece of advice in my suitcase full of foolishness, I left the country and felt that gnawing instinctive feeling return as the flight got closer to homeland. One renewal was denied while another was guaranteed.

The first few weeks were weird and depressing but mostly weird. I kept telling myself that my situation was all just a bad dream. I was so insecure and child-like. I spend more time sleeping than interacting. I just couldn’t comprehend what I were do to while in India. But that’s India you know, it is so different that it takes a while for anyone, even a native, to just take it all in. But what a wonderful thing it is that that’s how India is. This country is made up of disorderly handwritten notes, nothing collective, just developing as it sees fit for a given time, space and thought. And what a compliment that is, to be always ‘changing’.

 

To be my Valentine . . .

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To be my valentine
On a full moon night:
Bring out that telescope
And an open mind.

Will you be my design
Without a fight?
Let’s seismically shake
Those tectonic plates tight.

Just look facile
Yet not so right.
Stargaze with closed eyes
Keeping me in hindsight.

To be only mine
Love everyone equally.
Only give me the privilege
To love your animal mind.

Got you turned up, yeah? 😉

Let Love Rule!

Boundaries

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I awoke yet again this morning,
Unwrapped from the stale bedding.
Feeling a strain in my hunched back
I made a milky caffeinated concoction.

Clutching an illusion of strength,Sad
I walked up to a glass window
To look up at the gloomy sky
And wished for a genuine smile.

Painters surrounded the house,
Hosing off the dirt and cobwebs.
[I would drown and come clean]
But the glass pane left me dry.

The walls were cleaned then chipped
Forming a rough patchwork so unique.
Multiple paint layers were slapped on after
Smoothing and protecting the true character.

I have looked for forces outside:
Promising divine powers of some kind.
This world is a fool’s paradise
And I am a fool if I so realize.

My walls have been chipped down:
Left exposed and vulnerable awhile.
Cobwebs and dirt cover my character
Instead of layers of strength infinite.

 

Notes: It all comes down to taking responsibility for your actions.

Th e Man in the Moon by Bob McMahon

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Something I would say but not this beautifully. Please go like the original post if you like it 🙂

patchworkpost

We often thought of the man in the moon,

Who lived far, far away.

A hazy face on a distant planet,

Which faded with the light of day.

Then came the day in the race for space,

When they landed a man on the moon.

A small step for man, a giant leap for mankind,

Others would follow soon.

His first view as he looked around,

Was desolation and fear of the unknown.

A lonely cold deserted place,

Which chilled him to the bone.

But there was no greed, no hate or crime,

No religion or despair.

No crowds, no terror or wars,

And he was left without a care.

He  returned to earth and spoke with those,

Who could change the way we live.

But all he found was those who take,

There was no-one who would give.

He’s older now and wiser too,

And the years pass all…

View original post 18 more words

Otherside

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I wear Uggs when it’s summer
and wear shorts during winter.
I drink soup on a hot day
and chug beer on a cold night.

I am surprised when the sun hides
and pissed when it shines bright.Indecision Queen
I am fat on a beach day but
under a sweater I’ve a thin waist.

I pray when I am sad
and curse when I’m happy.
I run away when love comes
and readily store hate in my purse.

What is my story after all?
Being in the moment isn’t my perk.
I want which lurks in the distance –
anything that makes my reality blur.

 

 

Toe Tip

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More like jump and hurt.

More like jump and hurt.

How to know if
You broke a toe?
Wiggle it round
While on your crown,
Lines align in a row.

Pain, it lurks
Moving up then down.
Blue is the skin
Like Rotten cheese;
Lumpy, gooey blotches gleam.

Cold will soothe
On an inflammation so smooth
While heat will make
Sound waves some weird:
Oo, ah, and grunts queer!

Give them toes a curl:
No bend, no curve,
Numbing pain that hurls?
Like the feel of water
Not felt after a beer.

Creature of land
Gravity hurt you.
For you have hollow bones
For dense pearls;
time to put a sympathetic splint on!

Notes: For any and every medical concern, Google suggests that I may either have cancer or a baby in my tummy. So it is crucial to give an experience about how I knew my toe had broken after hopping over a fire hydrant and landing on one toe.

Cupid’s Sorrow of Steel

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give-me-love

Sad and carved in stones

Yet inflicting pain to bones;

A clan of blind “love” deities

In a precarious position, moan.

Lure to a land so bright;

Create a creature of spite.

Greed, lust, ego run high,

In a flailing body, a kite.

Many promises are clenched

And all secrets are etched

With a sense of security

In a pompous location: a stretch.

Feel love struck yet sick:

A victim to a mischievous trick

Run by the Disappointed

Aiming for hungry bricks.