asilonline's Blog

While I write this poem her body is flown back.
Now she lives in hearts of millions as a feeble cry lost in wilderness.
Her hopes n 'dreams, thirst n' thrust for life fizzled on board a bus.
Colours of Rainbow litter on street corners.

Scoundrels of humanity still lives in every nook n' corner,
Searching for 'Anokhis'.(Precious)
In the sweeping time waves many crushed flower buds float ashore.
Their vermilion spread lie on face of mother earth.
Their broken bangles clang, %#&@$! our conscience.

Dear mothers' n 'sisters, on this day we take a chivalric vow,
stronger than Bhishma's ….
We will not rest until Draupati is protected.
The pandava's shall not be onlookers again.
Let us teach a lesson to Dussana's.
Let our cloths of respect robe every woman.
and let our crests fall in shame when they are in malefic.
Oh! My brave Jyothi,
Let me light a candle before you in grief.
Salute your bravery,
while begging for your pardon.

Hot August noon: already on that day
Since sunrise through the Wiltshire downs, most sad
Of mouth and eye, he had gone leagues of way;
Ay and by night, till whether good or bad

He was, he knew not, though he knew perchance
That he was Launcelot, the bravest knight
Of all who since the world was, have borne lance,
Or swung their swords in wrong cause or in right.

Nay, he knew nothing now, except that where
The Glastonbury gilded towers shine,
A lady dwelt, whose name was Guenevere;
This he knew also; that some fingers twine,

Not only in a man's hair, even his heart,
(Making him good or bad I mean,) but in his life,
Skies, earth, men's looks and deeds, all that has part,
Not being ourselves, in that half-sleep, half-strife,

(Strange sleep, strange strife,) that men call living; so
Was Launcelot most glad when the moon rose,
Because it brought new memories of her. "Lo,
Between the trees a large moon, the wind lows

"Not loud, but as a cow begins to low,
Wishing for strength to make the herdsman hear:
The ripe corn gathereth dew; yea, long ago,
In the old garden life, my Guenevere

AFTER you have spent all the money modistes and manicures and mannikins will take for fixing you over into a thing the people on the streets call proud and beautiful,
After the shops and fingers have worn out all they have and know and can hope to have and know for the sake of making you what the people on the streets call proud and beautiful,
After there is absolutely nothing more to be done for the sake of staging you as a great enigmatic bird of paradise and they must all declare you to be proud and beautiful,
After you have become the last word in good looks, insofar as good looks may be fixed and formulated, then, why then, there is nothing more to it then, it is then you listen and see how voices and eyes declare you to be proud and beautiful

Best Love Poems are Here. Love Poems

On a cold and dreary morning
As I sit upon my bed
While I stare at your picture
Thoughts of you go through my head
 
Sometimes when you don't know it
You douse my feelings with cold rain
And though you may not realize it
You put me through such pain
 
I know that I should turn away
Just go and not look back
This being lonely but not alone
Is something I can't hack

Read More. Love Poems For Him