shayarisms4lovers June18 159 - The Fountain | A Poem by P.K. Deb

The Fountain | A Poem by P.K. Deb

Naturally, the colossal mountain was icy and rocky — stood beside the slum of the half-fed and half-naked in a desert, the prayer and the importunity of their hunger and thirst reverberated in the open air and the sky of infinity, vibrated even the hard heart of the icy-mountain and at last succeeded to melt it down to a little fountain for them. A responsibility geared the fountain to flow down with water and wealth for the ever-thirsty and hungry who fidgeted and wept lying on the foot of the mountain, hence, with a sympathetic fuel it rushed down to the desert. Still, it sang, made the rock to clap and the fishes to dance, continued its well destined, brakeless and nap-less journey till it reached the desert of hunger and thirst of the indigents and watched their dry faces who ran towards it tumultuously to immerse their curse of suffering in the water of the fountain. Alas, suddenly the fountain was surrounded by the pillagers — the sun, wind, rocks, sands, trees and other suckers who plunged in to the fountain and snatched the wealth first and at last, soaked and sucked the water to its last drop in […]

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shayarisms4lovers June18 272 - Shadowboxing | A Poem by Jeremiah Castelo

Shadowboxing | A Poem by Jeremiah Castelo

My shoulders are well oiled axles, my fists are cannon balls I am an uncompromised, uninhibited, and unchallenged fresh breath of boldness I am the statue of fastholding, chiseled down from black diamond by the strong hand of craftsmanship I am chaos’s more stable second cousin, and favored uncle to the prodigals, the proliferates, the princes, and the prodigies I am the lion’s heart beat, the war drum’s sporadic syncopation I am the wolf pack’s collective sixth and seventh senses, keen on the scent of blood, fear, and impending annihilation I will not sway to the breath of your voice nor will I stagger at the wind your weather weaves Advance upon me and find yourself hard pressed against calloused intolerance, behind which is a wall, and behind that wall, an army I pray you combust into flames and feathers at once should my name birth from your lips I pray my night guardsmen have eyes of eagles, and my trumpeteers have breaths of behemoths should you ever encroach upon my camp at dreaming hour I promise to empress upon you pressure, of a nature that spawns pearls, magma, and passionate revolution But the only revolution that will come of […]

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shayarisms4lovers June18 141 - Impasto | A Poem by Ivan Jenson

Impasto | A Poem by Ivan Jenson

Impasto | A Poem by Ivan Jenson Your pink passivity draws me in as I outwardly paint your negative and positive space into the pigment of my perception and then it occurs to me that you are currently on the good side of Mother Nature but someday you will be gently scolded by Father Time but by then I will be primed by black gesso and brushed by a dark destiny and all that will be left of your cursed curves will be this square canvas stretched on the warped frame of now

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