#review #poem

In the abyss of unknown, countless boats sail
Nobody knows how they came to be, nobody seems to wail

One boat chasing other, which too is in a quest of chase
One milestone after another, continues this endless maze

Going ahead, going futher, distance remains the same
Realised it is only at the end, destination is just for the name

One boat envy other, the other one is already sunk
An anchor is marked on the water, to honour the respected drunk

Boats keep sailing, without any map
The herd is the confidence, a fanciful trap

There are some boats, that question the way
But is there anyone to answer? They keep sailing away

But courageous are those boats, they will find the bay
In the dark and gloomy night, they will become messangers of the day

But cowards will keep sailing, they have lent their steers
Still Few boats will look up in the sky, and will desire to follow the seers.

#review
#JOHNPAUL
#poetry

The thing that I fear is facing you...
The thing that I fear is obsessing you...
The thing that I fear is
Loving you...

For a while, I was thinking of why I fell for you...
I'm still not sure...

Maybe I fell first...
Might be then the reasons came...

it was all about impressing you...
Expressing me...
Addressing US...

The beat that I skipped
The first time we met...
And the heat fogged Every time we met...




Each time I see one I try seizing it...
But every time a strange fear gripped me...
All the time I managed to bury them...


Maybe I was afraid...
Afraid that u were in love with someone who isn't me...
Holding hands that weren't mine...
Smiled and blushed about something that wasn't about me...

I loved those moments our eyes levelled...
I never understood what was that,
You shot into my heart with your eyes...
And I will never trade these moments...

Cause I hope......

-John Paul Benoy

Title: the mean of any end

Oh no it is nigh just as it starts to part
Bars and clubs are bent to comply
The end is most certainly revered
As the apocalypse brings songs
Hear the trumpets melting the air
As the palace regal ages its wine
For the date is due and setting set
When we turn to flip the tables
Coat them in refractory caste glass
Three of the walls born and one torn
Augmented memory
Virtual telemetry
The metronome is painting spheres
Pivotal rhythm in meta with beta gears
Finding a system in solar ringings
The chaos has yet to prepare a meal
Beyond the appetite of the above
So as dinner is brought to enjoy
The seated await the delicate
The encouragement is met in route
To an envoy of mutually suite spoons
Filled with sugar and our perfect gaze
Glazed platters artistically shattered
When the matte hardly matters
The philosopher is stoned
His skull a hallow bowl
Topped with a classic lid
As the adept gorgeously gorge
The gore is just a silly implore
Desserts are filled with grains of time
The meal is filling the gaps of minds
To hear the origin of narrative echoed
The end is already here
Breakfast for dinner is an option
Another day
Another table veiled aesthetically
To cover a priceless varnish



*I wrote this piece with 2 supporting pillars of reference or refinement; the proclivity collectives have in anticipating an end to their or some existing ideal of motions as well as how this notion is mutual across varying groups with equally different axioms.

#poetry #jmhs #review

#review #poetry

Superpower 2k20

We have mountains conquered
But not questions answered.
We have system murdered
But noone concerned.

We have witnesses blurred
And screamings unheard.
We have tables that turned
Only to make things absurd.

We have lies to be sold
Truth, to be shuttered.
We have insecurities within
But violence confirmed.

We have bodies unmatched,
With wounds that hurt.
We have souls for sales,
But golden graves nurtured.

We have victories to claim
With opponents of no worth.
We announce the unity,
Making boundaries on Earth.

Sorry to say that aloud
To hit right where it hurts.
But when reality checks hard
We pass the delusional world.

~Abhinav

#review #story #concept
Downtime
Shekhar can't see anything, I mean he is not blind he is somewhere or can say nowhere...trapped.As he didn't go to space or into a quantum realm... He is from India, Mumbai...so how did he get there...these are the question that remains with him in the beginning but later on when he starts to focus he got this ability to enter into dreams, that he saw in past, so he tries to influence his past self by becoming a random character(which he can't predict )in his dreams...
After the 1st dream about the car crash that happened to him, he further tries to classify dreams into two categories the realistic (close to real-life events that had happened to him)and unrealistic dream(like ghost, vampires, zombies, dinosaurs)

Title : Mother
If I'm a colour you are The RAINBOW..
I'm part of you ..resides in you..no bigger than you..
If I'm a string.. you are the whole ROPE..
Combinedly become a dummy version of you but not you...
If I'm a wave.. you are the whole OCEAN..
 Only I can do is froth or riffle..but you show mudita of settling millions of lives..
If I'm a paper you are The TREE....
Utmost can give joy when used as a toy.. but You are powerhouse of earthlings. .
If I'm a spark .. you are THE FIRE.
When ragged.. can burn someone's hand.... but you can incinerate someone's existence...
You are superior, sovereign ,phenomenal, surpassing.....
You are no other... you are MY MOTHER.
#review #poetry #rks .

Title: Dinner

Ettiquite and when to sit
At the table we dine on flesh
Yet no fear in the eyes of our pets
Likely as their bowl is full
Appetite met in our shared feast
A festival every time food is heard
Little they care unless given
Some red meat or live treat
As the carnal is so easily satisfied
Occasionally now they smell
The delicate delicious recipes
Of these adept animals at work
Learning our loves and doves sit
In their healthy ettiquite
To forget their origin
To watch us eat their kin
This is so sickening to us all
But not so many care
It's really no different
Than the cat or dog not knowing
What a lean shake or steak is
Begging below the dinner table
The nose twitches
To them we must be witches
The eyes shine
To us its not the slightest crime
To tease such a beast
As the beast is dead if quelled
Just like the cooked bird
It's not flying anywhere
While in an oven
These notes are painful to admit
This fork stuck dripping with spit
It is something we must all admit it
The animals never get to quit
Being hungry for what their given
So let us make an effort to eat less
Of the living or dead despite the grown
Parts of nature hard to swallow
With some training
We may share a meal with them
Again someday like once long ago
In a time before land and sands
When we were all one grain
And this sort of thing like eating
Didn't create pain

#review #poetry #jmhs

*this and the following piece were attempts to present some allegory in the domestication of nature and our operations within it.

Title: Zoo

Unkempt as natures golden locks
Of a lion stooped below a stone
Soaking in the rays of his land
Unabridged screams from a cock
Reckoning mourning has to come
Critters scurry and the lions hurry
This is the nature of a beast
Should some monk find the key
To enter the savanna clean
He may appreciate this show
Yet then some man finds his way
In works and toils all through a day
To cut through the bush and gaze
In awe at the profits to be made
These creatures fowl and regal
Keeping in their order of preference
To abide by the laws of the sun
Moon
tide
breeze
currents
All above and below the tree
This man considers nature his own
He takes it all as a predominant
Predatory proclivity preferred
To be slain in the young leather wallets
These animals are caged
Taken far from their origin
Like the King or Mr black so laid back
The shipment escorts nature
To a date with a new zoo
And these poor and feral creatures
Become gauged in their cages
As pennys and benjamins fly
Without wings of feathers
Rather some steel as agreed
The birds hit the ceiling
The lion cowering in the dark
The chickens can't see the sun
And the father is only there
To watch his boy believe
There is such a thing as nature

#jmhs #poetry #review

*mentioned some inspiration in the addendum above.

Had food been free;
Water cheap;
And air expensive;
Few would've lived

Praise due to The-Wise
Who makes
Harder to monopolize
Things needed more



#AhmadMusa #review #poem

#review #LucianadeLemos #poetry

THE WAY BACK HOME

What is life, but
dreams that flow,
one after another,
like waves in the ocean.
What is life, but
tangled paths that cross,
one over the others,
like the spirals of the Galaxy.
What is life, but
billions of people, despite shining
like stars, they have the
mere illusion of being in control.
What is control, in a place
where things just happen,
beyond our reach. Where single
sureness is that we are just
passing by.
What is life, but
the way back home.
What is home, but
a place where we feel safe.
What is safe, but
being oneself, in your
Perfect void.

#review #meredith #poetry

Title: For Akshay

I bet this time of night he is still awake,
alone with his changing mind and self-hate;
the Indian boy with grieving brown eyes,
sitting on his chair seeing days passing by.


And I'm thousand miles away but I know my ghost
is following him everywhere he goes;
the ghost of the Latin girl who waved him goodbye
but never really gave all the reasons why.


I bet he wonders if I'm doing good,
if I just moved on or found someone new.
If only he knew there's not a single night
that I don't dream of us under the Rishikesh sky.


Which of his gods should I pray to have him?
Who should I pray to for I could hold his hand?
I don't think that Shiva, Krishna or Parvati
will ever hear my prayers from this distant land.

All he'll ever be is a midnight spirit,
a translucent phantom that I cannot touch.
But his name echoes through my mind every minute.
Got tatoos of his hand prints on my soul.

Scared of falling I said goodbye
and attempted to find a new joy.
Now I'm sure no matter how hard I try,
I will never forget the Indian boy.

#review #poem #Nandini
A Sunflower soul
With rock and roll eyes
Curious thoughts
And a mind full of surprises

#review #poem #Nandini
Sunflower soul
With rock and roll eyes
Curious thoughts
And a mind full of surprises

#review #Keval #poetry

Years away from the sky,
Still thoughts running by
With Jets flying high,
Lifeless Me still blinking eye,
And Memories still flashing by,
But why?

Why isn't the past far behind,
Those days were one of a kind,
Martyrs still on my mind,
Comfort is still hard to find.

Served protecting motherland,
the pain I have to withstand,
it's hard for you to understand.

Now trying to deceive my mind,
With a lit cigar in my hand,
Hear them play some jazz band,
In hopes of finding wonderland.

[Thoughts of a retired war veteran]

#review #tony #poetry She Was in Love
She was in love
But I said her ‘no’
Pride got in my way
I let her go,
So drunk in logic
That didn’t understand magic
And now it’s too late to say;
She was right.
‘Only fools fall in love’
Is what I used to said
She laughs hard on that
But inside cries,
She walks behind me
Like a shadow,
Tries a lot to came closer
But every time I rejected her.
‘Neither you’re wrong or I’m right,
Love is what makes beautiful this life.’
This was her philosophy
With the stainless clarity,
Still my eyes were blinded
That I didn’t see my priority.
Now it is all like hell
Walking at her grave,
Heart cries every time
When I reads her last lines;
‘I can’t fall in love without you,
You will fall in love with me without me,
I won’t be there anymore to love you
But you can’t stop loving me.’
Tears rolls down through cheek
This is how, now my life.

#review
Life Is a Choice.
To make Nothing Out of everything
or
To Make Everything Out of Nothing.

Live Happy Life
Lead Happy Life
Spread Happy Life.

Title: A toast

Upon the mount of earth
The Olympian birth
Awaits his deed & will in proper tense
You shall cycle and the cogs will open
New tuning and potions brewing
This is not good news at all
Golden gods are those that fall
I've given it all rams and fleece
Rotten secrets and molded cheeses
Goats and screaming monkeys
Money and monks hiding
Certainly the mountain can't topple
If its tumbled in sugar and sweet fat
Just as those rats had split the bounty
Fifty shifty ones going to eat swords
We've offered them the silky rewards
The divine shall devour the best parts
And oh we shall
And oh we have
And the feast is hardly one for a beast
But these kin can't be sated in basking
Bowls and plates are getting worn
Their hiding their faces behind glasses
Filled with my bloody miscarriages
An affair of the fates in fair fare
To afford a marriages formal offering
Shall my son take the throne
The throne shall not exist again
Shall I give him the Roman roam
This can all recede back into sea foam
Shall my son take my life
Life shall be taken from definition
We've grown wide and wise
Generations of wine to hold pride
Raise yourself to the sky
Uranus missing you
Let grandma give you a kiss
It will end that kind kin of sickness
You'll see
The gods decree

*Heavy inspiration from Greek antiquity.

#jmhs #review #poetry

Title: ____(suggestions?)

The advent of advanced advertising
Advocating the almighty apex of being
We here now are the best
The rest is passed and less
Present only in the past tense
Living through vicarious senses
Our caricatures and characters
Dying in architectures of the identified

#poetry #review #jmhs

#review #tony #poetry A Letter to My Ex
My dear ex,
You still look the same.
Every time I see you
My heart feels the same,
Brain bro scolds me badly
But still doing that same mistake.
Please tell me what to do,
For forget your face.

Walking alone on the street
Missing your warm hands,
Looking at the mirror
Crying for your smiley face,
A lots of people
Failed to give happiness,
Don’t know how to live
Rest of my life, like this.

When you were alone
I pulled your hand,
Didn’t knew you then
Still gave my heart,
Wished to love you
All my life,
But we ended that right
For those futile prides.

Your lovely memories
Piecing me off every night,
Every morning just gives me
Regret to rewind the time.
No matter how much I try
Or how far I could go,
In the end
You will never come.

Forgiving ‘me’
I know is a harder fight,
But my mistake
Wasn’t that big crime.
I got angry
And you just gone,
Was there even love
Or you just made it for fun.

#review#review #sm#sm #opentosuggestions#opentosuggestions
TEARS
Have you ever wandered about the dew drops,
The dew that falls down from your beautiful eyes,
The drop that clears all your fears from the face.
That very drop
Is not because you are surrounded by too many,
But rather there is no one to spare for any.
That drop trying to hide from outside world,
Is not afraid of people seeing it flowing down,
But because it doesn't want to show up for people who value it down.
Let me tell you a story of it.
Deep inside a cave,
There was drop ready to rage.
No matter how many times he fell,
That drop never came up of the well.
No wounds, no stranger, no storm
could boil the water for steam.
Yet there came a girl,
Just beautiful as a pearl.
They passed time together,
For which she gifted him a watch to remember.
One fine day, she vanished in front of him,
He was all blank, but had a whim.
To turn it real,
He went to that very same well.
Water reaching the top of it,
Not a blink, but thinking to forfeit.
In that midst of black cloud
People taunted him for getting out.
No architect showed up, no dams built,
All fishes swimming now full of guilt.
The lake got dried,
His subconscious got bribed.
That river did not flow again,
But the clouds cried and the boy in vain.
Now people trying to dig the lake with a shovel,
sharpened up with disguise, dishonest flannel.
The owner still in search of the fate,
To find that same pearl that would close the gate.
Looking it up with moments they had spent,
That whose key could never be found again.

#review#review #sm#sm #poetry#poetry
TEARS
Have you ever wandered about the dew drops,
The dew that falls down from your beautiful eyes,
The drop that clears all your fears from the face.
That very drop
Is not because you are surrounded by too many,
But rather there is no one to spare for any.
That drop trying to hide from outside world,
Is not afraid of people seeing it flowing down,
But because it doesn't want to show up for people who value it down.
Let me tell you a story of it.
Deep inside a cave,
There was drop ready to rage.
No matter how many times he fell,
That drop never came up of the well.
No wounds, no stranger, no storm
could boil the water for steam.
Yet there came a girl,
Just beautiful as a pearl.
They passed time together,
For which she gifted him a watch to remember.
One fine day, she vanished in front of him,
He was all blank, but had a whim.
To turn it real,
He went to that very same well.
Water reaching the top of it,
Not a blink, but thinking to forfeit.
In that midst of black cloud
People taunted him for getting out.
No architect showed up, no dams built,
All fishes swimming now full of guilt.
The lake got dried,
His subconscious got bribed.
That river did not flow again,
But the clouds cried and the boy in vain.
Now people trying to dig the lake with a shovel,
sharpened up with disguise, dishonest flannel.
The owner still in search of the fate,
To find that same pearl that would close the gate.
Looking it up with moments they had spent,
That whose key could never be found again.