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Epic Father Poems | Epic Poems About Father

These Epic Father poems are examples of Epic poems about Father. These are the best examples of Epic Father poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Epic | |

My father is a Soldier

My father is a hero.
He stands so tall and proud.
His hands are firm, But gentle.
He stands out in a crowd.
People stop to Thank him.
For Freedom he does fight.
My father is a Soldier.
But he's my Dad at night!


Details | Marsiya | |

I'm my Daddy Made Over

Dedicated to my Dad Jerry W. Niday 3/20/1952 - 6/18/2013


I am who I am because of him
He’s the reason for my son’s name
He gave me my courage & my strength
To stand tall even when standing wasn’t easy
Stand for the ones who can’t
To think and fend for myself
I’m my Daddy made over

Taught me to fight back 
To never back down
How to pick myself back up
When I’ve been knocked down
Fight for what I believe
I’m my Daddy made over

He gave me my stubbornness 
Gave me my pride
Gave me my temper
Taught me not to take crap
To speak my mind no matter who
Work for what I want
I’m my Daddy made over

How to keep my emotions in check
How to handle large amounts of pain
When in trouble he always had my back
He knew how my mind worked better than anyone
I got it from him
I’m my Daddy made over

Even though he’s gone
I’ll stand and continue on 
I may stumble I may fall 
May even get hurt along the way
But I’ll pick myself back up
I’ll dust myself off and stand tall
I’m honored and proud to say
I’m my Daddy made over


Sabrina Niday Hansel



Details | Epic | |

To My Wife Grandpa Murray's voice

I wandered and travelled
Nor knew where I'd gone .
Life became a problem;
T'was one long cruel song.

My problems seem to multiply;
They came from every side.
I vowed to find the answer;
by this I would abide.

I looked into nature
And tore apart my mind.
Then put them on the table
To see what I could find.

I found that I'de been greedy
and avaricious, too.
Whenever projects of mine failed
I put the blame on you.

I found that I was lonely;
I thought you didn't care.
But what I really didn't know
Was you were always there.

You tried to fill the void
That always was in my Life.
you tried to ease the sorrow
You've been a real good Wife.
 
                           Yvette & Grandpa Murray  
          From James Murray to , Janet Murray ..his beautiful wife.
" In great respect of Grandfather Murray's poem he wrote for my  Grandmother Murray "


Details | Free verse | |

I'm Your King

A burst of white light gamma rays, overbearing a flash of brilliance burns through to my soul everything is like hell the world starts to melt in the blink of an eye just the cold blackness of night I don't care if I am not again what I once was, for at this moment I am greater now than ever before I took the path between teetering, tight roping walking right up to my right divined in my unholy state I thought I told you I am your king still you sit there, hesitating I know you hate me what does that mean? I hate just about everything still I'm chosen I did not wish before now bow down to me refuse me no more for I shall always be your demon until you accept me as your King. I don't even know you though you say we used to be best of friends, you and me the day you ditched me I remember now exactly how it played out back when we were just tiny things even back then I still was King you thought me stupid just a ruse I would laugh inside, you see? not one of you single, mean people ever even knew me in a world, mostly seen to me that is why only I can be your true King and bring forth a new source of light everlasting. As two worlds collide slowly aligned one wrapped in shadows one bathed in white evils swirling in the clouds above I'll always be the king you love to hate or despise as in your blood I thought I told you, I am the one I am the way, the way out shall be shown breathe in my spirit as it carries you away breathe in my faith it shall carry your empty space and deposit you gently on a cloud just enough higher than you've ever dreamed of for I am king now, and your in my hell your in my imagination, I'll just never tell you'll feel as though dreaming, you'll feel now if you try and see you were always found the most shared in the light cast upon me the last bright star in heaven. Denounce my name, if you may One year later, still not afraid A black sheep, a darkened spade That's just life, I'm not right I'm in the wrong, follow along Like a piper, I'll pitch a song Mesmerized, the weak wills sing I thought he told you, he's still our king.


Details | ABC | |

Battle of the words

Bravery is the father of fears
Dreams are distant cousins of nightmares
Hope is the sister of prayers
Every night shame lays down and gets screwed by despair
Pollution abuses Mrs. atmosphere
It's a battle between personality and reality 
But obviously nobody cares
Maybe it's because big tough is the uncle of little scared
Planning is deeply in love with prepared
Procrastination is the biggest enemy of determination
Ignorance is jealous of realization
Sometimes strength can get sneak attacked by temptation
Silence can never defeat a great proclamation
When the brain disagrees with the heart
The body dies of complications


Love your self...



Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 29 /Many


Patradoot or The Messenger29 /Many 
  
English version by  Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor


These young boys and girls,  were brought up,  
By their parents, with great love and affection, 
Now they are mad, in love for their motherland,
To show the splendors of their youthful energy.

They are ready even to sacrifice their heads,
What to say of body pains and tortures inflicted on them, 
By seeing such fearlessness and energy of their youth,
Even the enemy gets ashamed of, dear letter.

Triloki was one of these young boys, 
Who happily took bullets on his chest, dear letter,
And kept on moving ahead without withdrawing,
Keeping the dignity of our nation and Satyagraha.

DESCRIPTION OF MY CITY ALLAHABAD

You will find my beautiful city Allahabad,* 
In an ecstasy and full of rapture, flowing in it’s air,
When you will move on its roads and streets,
Along with the Postman, dear letter.

Ravindra

Kanpur India 12th August 2010                        to continue in 30

Clarifications:

* Allahabad		Also know as Prayag or Triveni is the most ancient city
                                    of India, where river Ganga and Yamuna now meets at
                                    the holy place called Sangam.


Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around  1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. 















  




Details | Epic | |

The Father Wants His Children Home

I died for all the nations, because I came to die
The father wants his children home again; in case you wonder why
Because of what the first Adam did, I, the last Adam had to come
Not just to save you from your sins but to make sure the Father's will is done
The Father wants his children home again, in case you wonder why
I  came in the flesh, born to a woman and dwelt among you; just to die
And now all you appreciate is the day that you think I was born
Not reverencing that it was for you that I was beaten and my flesh torn
I love you so much that I paid the price, that you, yourself could not pay
I laid down my life before mortal men that you may live to say...
The Father sent his only son to die upon a cross
That I may make it home one day and my mortal soul be not lost.


Details | I do not know? | |

Slow

Slow was the logo he had been wearing since he was born.
Born into a world of poverty and scorn. They look at you funny when your mom is 
destroying her fetus and it's not even born yet. 
9 months of pain in a bubble of insanity. Slowly fading. She didn't know how much you 
were going to be. 
So when the day came and she lied down on the table screaming and breathing. Cussing and 
fussing. Wondering why she didn't keep her silly legs closed.
But then you come around and your eyes were enough to tame her. No more stripping to make 
a dollar, no more crack pipes she wanted to be the perfect mother. She raised you right, 
though she made some mistakes she was really trying. 
Your first day of school she held your hand and cried because you were becoming such a 
little man.
She didn't yet know the hardships that were to come. The boat was solid now but the waves 
were sure to crash it.
The little boy strutted to school he wanted to make his mother proud but he didn't yet 
know he was going to be made a fool. 
First day of class and he could barely read. Teacher's crucified him because he didn't 
know his ABC's. 
From then on he was labeled slow. Got left back in the 3rd grade for him their seemed no 
hope. 
He went from being so determined to blaming his mother, the stress so enormous she 
started the pipe again.
The boy couldn't imagine how much he had hurt her. But he knew hurt as well and for now 
he felt he deserved to be selfish. 
Kids teased him every day, stole his lunch money, called him " slow" and a dummy. He had 
no friends and one day he turned to his mother. 
He said mom why is that every day I go to school and they tease me and I come home and I 
tease you. But you’re silent, you don't ever belittle me. Why is that mommy? He stared at 
her with intelligence in his eyes. The mother was silent for a second and then she looked 
into her baby's eyes and said " Because to me you are golden and even though they might 
not see it I surely know it".The boy looked at his mother and said but how can I be 
golden that's not what anyone says they all say that I’m slow. 
The mother looked at her son and reached out for his hand and slapped it. Didn’t I tell 
you never to listen to what other people say it only matters what you think? What do you 
think?  
The boy gazed into his mother's eyes and said " I think I’m really bright, if you can see 
it and I can see it than that's all I need to know. The mother smiled as he left her that 
day the future seemed bright.


Details | Narrative | |

He Loved You

He loved you too, you know
Loved you like his very own
In away you were
You came into his life as my friend
Through the years you grew to be my brother in arms 
Along the way you became the son he never had

He loved you as a friend
He loved you even more as a son
A son he never had
When things began to spiral out of control
You stayed when so many others ran away
You helped when I couldn’t

You meant a great deal to him
You never looked at him differently 
Nor did you treat him differently
You stood by his side
When he fell, you stood by his side and mine
You were willing to help me fight his battle for him 
You were there from the beginning 
You were there until the bitter end
Always remember my friend, my brother
He loved you more than you’ll ever know


____________________________________________________________
Dedicated to close Family friend Rodney Howard. He loved my Daddy just as much as I did/do.


Details | Epic | |

We Lost More Than a Dad

We lost more than just a Dad that day
We lost half of how we came to be
We lost we four girls first love
We lost our Best Friend

We lost more than just a Dad that day
Our Mom lost her Soul Mate, Her other half 
Our children lost their Papaw
We lost our family’s foundation 
We lost the glue that held us together

We lost more than just a Dad that day
We lost the Strongest man we ever knew 
We lost the man we looked up too
We lost we four girls Teacher of many things

We lost more than just a Dad that day
We four girls lost our Hero
We lost some of our Light
We lost part of our Heart
We lost part of our Soul

We lost more than just a Dad that day
We lost some of our Courage
We lost some of our Strength
We lost some of our will to fight back
We lost some of our will to carry on
We four girls lost more than a Dad
We lost more than just a Dad that day


Details | Munaajaat | |

Tell Me

I'm lost hurt and angry
Why did you take his life
I want, No I need to know
Tell me, Tell me why
I deserve to know

Haven't you done enough to him
What'd he ever do to you
He suffered his whole life
Suffered more than anyone deserved
Tell me, Tell me why you did it
I have a right to know

Why'd you let him born to them
Born to worthless parents
Parents who didn't care
They threw him away like garbage
Pawned him off on someone else
Tell me, Tell me why
Explain how you could do that

You gave him Polio
You let others treat him like disease
You took away the full use of his legs
You warped his hand and foot
Tell me, Explain to me why
I deserve to know

You let others think he was crazy
You let it go on for over year
You didn't stop it, Why
Tell me, Give me your reason
Answer me, Help me to understand

You go and make matters worse
You gave him Cancer
You didn't give him a chance to fight back
You just jerked him away from us
Tell me, Tell me how
How you could be so cruel

How can others not question you
When others do it, It's murder
But when it's by your hand
It's your will, Their fate
Tell me, What makes you so different
Your no better than the demons knocking at the door

You heard me beg and plead
You know I'm not afraid to die
I was willing to carry it all for him
I was willing to take my Daddy's place
You didn't even let me say Goodbye
Tell me, Tell me why I couldn't take his place
Answer me, you owe me that much



Sabrina Niday Hansel
~Niday40873~

(motif) Spiritual


Details | Elegy | |

An Elegy For Noah Tuckwell

As tears flow from my reddened eyes
I can see what I have purely missed
As I look up to the dark grey skies
I will always remember our first fist

I sit here and think of your face
The first time I saw your light fluffy cheeks
I always wanted to lay my head on that place
Even when I was buried in my girlfriend’s twin peaks.

You never knew my love for you
I waited until it was too late
I often yearned for a way through
Both your heart and your front gate.

But now you’ve passed away
Slipped through my limp and lifeless fingers
But I still yearn for that fortuitous day
And the smell of your tobacco colour coat still lingers.

As I stare at my homage dedicated to you
I can feel a heart shaped hole called ‘Noah’
My body is conflicted, I don’t know what to do
It’s such a shame that you were found in pieces underneath a lawnmower.

So many holes, and opportunities now
I feel my body grow harder
For you Noah would only allow 
One hole to be ventured in farther 

As you led there erotically 
on the grass that day
with your legs so lovely 
I couldn’t take my eyes away

So I didn’t see 
The lawnmower draw near
The blades running free
And beginning to career

Ever closer to your toes
To impoverish your heart
I’m the only one who knows
How a love like this does start 

To think I won’t see you again
Striding majestically down the Bath Road
And, protecting your shoulders from the rain
Your little tobacco coloured coat

I wish I had been able to say 
All this to you when you were alive
I came so close once, that fateful day
When we were standing outside the Beehive

Your hair was golden in the glow 
Of the solitary standing streetlamp
Yet still, you couldn’t ever know 
My feeling for you or my heart would cramp

And now you’re dead you selfish thing
You’ll never hear me speak these thoughts
You’ll never feel me ‘flap my wings’
Or ogle me as I cavort

But now you’re in the ground
In the darkness and despair
But I have now created a mound
Where I can collect your hair

My heart is soaked in liquid salt 
My clothes cling to my body
Although I know that it’s no-one fault
Staring at you was my favourite hobby

Now it’s time to say goodbye
My lovely little pet
My heart still yearns, my eyes still cry 
Although we never met


Details | Rhyme | |

Hector

Poiseidon's waters roil and roar
All up and down the craggy coast;
Their winedark waves have brought the host
Of foreign men all drunk for glory,
For the sake of one man's vanity
They traveled to your alien shore
To write with blood and bone a story
Of the Gods' capriciousness towards men,
Of passion's triumph over sanity
Which they shall repeat: again, again.

The men will surge against your city walls
Ten long and doleful years;
As your children, born to violence, shriek, and widows' tears
Appeal to you, their hero Prince,
To drive them back to whence they came
As your father walks the palace halls,
As does his shade now, ever since -
Ever since you went out to face the foe
And pass to time your noble name,
Their legend and their martyr, hope and woe.

It would be asked by what Creed you chose to live
Before you fell to the Fates' perversity,
Before their undeserving Champion dragged you 'round the city.
"Honor the Gods", you said, cruel though they may be.
"Defend your Country", you said, though it be doomed.
"Love your Women", you said, as only they can give
Meaning to the madness from across the sea.
Your father forced to beg for your battered corpse; so many dead,
Their faces still now, 'neath the swaying plumes
Of shining helmets, others waiting in their stead.

     "Honor the Gods
       Defend your Country
       Love your women."

- Oh you grey heads who start your wars for Pride,
Go ask Andromache's ghost
What it meant to her.


Details | Epic | |

Patradoot The Messenger 43

Patradoot The Messenger 43/50

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor



She would ask you dear,                     in  most humble and  lovely words,
To tell her,                             the true condition of her  beloved husband, 
Removing the anxieties,                which would be mounting in her  mind, 
By telling her the entire story,  for which she would spend the whole night.

Please tell me dear letter, how my most beloved husband spends his time,
With in the dark,   tough  and high boundaries  of  the prison house,    and
How he bears the tortures,          the British rulers  would be giving to him,
As he is fighting,      for the freedom of our motherland     from the British, 

Sleeping,                     in the burning hot and dark cells of the prison house, 
Where mosquitos would be biting,                    during night and  in day also,  
And facing the taunting,                    on the freedom fighters by jail officers,
While bearing the agonies of distance from me and the hard stories of others. 

Please tell me dear letter,       how he bears the hard and fearsome  pains  and 
The sufferings of the jail life,                 which we perhaps cannot imagine here,
Who would console him,         when his is in distress and beaten by the jail staff,
While bearing hard and tough tortures,     they give as a gift to freedom fighters.

When he used to come late in the night,         tired and exhausted,
After passing the whole day, for the cause of the freedom struggle,
I used to bring sleep for him,                   by talking to him sweetly,
And singing melodies to him and consoling him always, dear letter

During extreme  hot summers,                    he would be living without air,
When even the sleep gets stubborn and arrogant, due to heat and humidity,
I used to create air on him,  by moving the hand fan     made of straw grass,
So that my beloved husband,           can get some rest and sleep, dear letter.



Ravindra
Kanpur India   29th November 2010                           continue in 44

Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.





Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 41 / 50

Patradoot or The Messenger 41 / 50

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor


You will be welcomed by my beloved,  
Amid the cool warmth of her tender breasts,
She would make you her precious garland,
To remove the agonies of her anxious heart.

She would feel shy to read my letter, 
Before the elders of my family, dear letter,
Close to her heart, she would hide you in her blouse, 
While hiding even the pleasures, from her over splashing heart.

Feeling shy before others, she would not hear my messages there
While holding you close to her heart, like a priceless gem,
She would take you to her room to hear you at ease, dear letter and
To love and adore you, since you are from the place of her love. 

Remembering her love, she would take you to the room
Which she used to decorate with the delicacies of her hands
The alluring simple beauty of her charms and of the room 
Used to fascinate me to, get lost in the sweetness of her arms. 

You would see the soft and milky white sheet,
Which she herself spreads on the bed every day,
Here you would also feel, a dim intoxicating fragrance,
Which my beloved used to spray, before we go to bed every day.

Ravindra

Kanpur India      30th Sept 2010                     conti.   in 42

Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994.



Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 40 / 50

Patradoot or The Messenger 40 /50

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor



After seeing your face, dear letter,
Decorated with beautiful words,
The sadness and gloom of her face,
Would change into a blooming Rose, dear letter.

With great anxiety she would ask,
From where you have come, O dear letter,
Have you brought a message for me from my love?
From the place, where he dwells now a days.

The feeling of love and affection would flash,
On the face of my beloved wife, dear,
And the shine of her beauty would expand,
Seeing the beauty of words addressed to her.

Her lotus like hands will softly open,
Your covered face to bring you in light,
And she would hold to you close to her heart,
To extinguish the heat of her longings, dear letter.

Her arms that uses to garland me dear, Removing 
All my worries and tiredness in her soft enfolds,
You would taste the embrace of those lovely arms,
When she would hold you, close to her heart, dear.

The lovely tenderness of her soothing touch, 
Refreshed and charmed my heart always,
While she was embracing me in her arms,
Tired and exhausted from days labor long,

It appears then, that her two lovely arms,
Like the cool Lotus stems were engulfing  
My body burning from the tortures of summer,
To take away the heat in their cool enfolds.

Ravindra

Kanpur India      16th Sept 2010                     continues in 41

Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994.



Details | Ballad | |

You're Just A Stranger

Why do you despise me
why can't you let me be,
how come you always pestering me.
How come you can not see
I am beginning to turn my love away from thee
Just as you are turning your hate on me.

I proceed biting my words back 
and just nodding my head
you think i am the one to blame
but you'll end up losing me instead.
I try to talk to you, but you
cut me out and shut your ears
where will this get us
in fifteen or so years.
 
You bring down the pressure
while i try to do as you say
Only until i lose, you win
will you stop yelling and walk away.

Here i sit, expressing my stress on paper
only hoping tomorrow will bring
something better
and that i won't lose my life forever.
Please forgive me 
for this paper may be wet with tears
I know this is a stage in life,
I pray will pass in a few years. 

As i write my anger fades
but when i think about you it returns
I hope we both learn from this
For I may lack empathy
but you are always so very stern.
It seems everything I do
has gotten on your nerves
And I know you don't hold it inside
For your anger does surly splurge.

Tonight you have taken my phone
and cut me off from my friends I truly need
your words hit me hard,
and to you I can not plead.
Someday I may realize
what you did was probably right
I will try to understand,
I will try with all my might.
But until that day
or until through my eyes you see,
You are still a stranger
You're just a stranger to me.

Nov. 21. 2011


Details | Epic | |

Incineration of Love God Madan Cupid 14


Incineration of Love God Madan (Cupid) 14
Originally written in Hindi by my late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
1899 to 1994. The work was written in Hindi somewhere around 1965-70.

Editing and English version by Ravindra K Kapoor.

Hindi Title  ‘Madan Dahan’


A struggle had started on the Himalayan peaks,
Between delusion and penance,
To watch this great fight,
The Sun stopped its motion for a while.

Even consciousness was watching,
Bewildered and astonished.
Who wins the unique struggle,
The delusion of Goddess or the God.

Meditation of Lord Shanker,*
Got disturbed by illusion,
Seeing such courage of Cupid,
He thought over the consequences.

Ravindra
Kanpur India 5th May 2012.
To continue…..

Protected under the copy write provisions of Poetry Soup as per US laws.

Clarifications:
Shanker*- Lord Shiva is also known as Shanker. There are many
Other names of Lord Shiva

IMPORTANT NOTE:
Due to passing of time some of the 
Hindi Text stanzas of this great epic
got lost or right now it is not available.
Even I have also lost some parts 
of the Ist English translation done by 
me, long back, when my father was alive.
They are either got misplaced or lost.  
I am rewriting such missing lines to 
the best of my capabilities to
preserve this valuable writing by bringing
this unique story before the world. ...Ravindra
My Email id for facebook and other readers:
kapoor_skk@yahoo.com




Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot The Messenger 44 of 54

Patradoot The Messenger 44/

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor



How he sleeps, O dear letter without even a cot and bed
Resting on a rough blanket, lying on the floor, and 
Who pats him, when he faces such tortures of the Jail life?
When sleeps also does not come.

He must be eating there, the tasteless dry foods of Jail,
That too, without ever getting a chance to hear,
The affectionate words, which makes a food,
 More delicious or tasty, when it comes from your love ones.

O, please tell this also to me, dear letter,
Does my husband ever remember his life companion and
Does his eye ever get wet, while remembering,
His dear wife, who is so much away from him.

What message my dear husband has sent?
Through you, O’ sweetest of all dear letter,
What teachings, he has sent through you?
To tell his loving wife, please tell me, O dear letter.

Do not think an Indian woman,
To be a weaker sex only, dear letter,
She may sacrifices her life, for the one,
Whom she makes her life partner, dear letter.

Ravindra			to continue  in 45..
Kanpur India 06th January 2011

Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994.





















Details | Cowboy | |

Cowboys and Indians

He pulls his hat down low against the chill of the storm,
The numb fingers that hold the reins forgot what it was like to be warm;

     On a grassy knoll silhouetted against the rising sun, 
     Astride his pinto pony sits a Native American son; 

The blowing snow and freezing rain steal his breath away,
But he knows that being a cowboy, it’s worth the price that you pay;

     A majestic, bronzed brave, feathers wafting in the breeze, 
     With arms uplifted in obeisance, the Great Spirit to appease! 

A worn out calf is stretched across his lap on either side,
Her head resting on his thigh just going along for the ride;

     He offers thanks to Him for the grandeur of creation, 
     And for the sun and moon from which he gathers inspiration;

Her momma just like him had been caught out in the gale,
It’s just another story to add to the cowboy’s tale;

     He asks the Great Spirit to bless his arrow and bow, 
     That with true aim he can fell life-sustaining buffalo;

His face is hard and beaten from too many days in the sun,
From early mornings and late nights workin’ til a job is done;

     A tear rolls down his cheek thinking of his ravaged, sacred land, 
     The broken treaties and those who dealt with deceitful hand; 

But being a working cowboy surely has its rewards,
Riding forgotten country that has never been explored.

     With a sad heart he lowers his arms and slowly turns away, 
     Determined that from the paths of his fathers he will not stray. 

By Tirzah Conway and Bob Hinshaw

The cowboy portion was written by Tirzah Conway and the Indian portion was written by Bob Hinshaw
   
     




Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 39 /50

Patradoot or The Messenger 39 /50

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor



When in the nectar pond of her mouth,
My kiss use to take breathe, dear,
Even the pride of the beauties of heaven,
Seems faded before her charms, dear letter 

When during her extreme laughs and passions,
The rows of her pearl like teeth appeared, 
They use to wave like necklace of pearl, 
In the red shines of her lovely lips, dear letter.

The round mark of her forehead used to disappear,  
Whenever her face shined with luster dear, 
Also during our love making, 
When pride ever came in her mind, dear letter.

Such lovely face, of the moonfaced my beloved,
You would find without a smile dear letter,
The face that never bent in self respect,
You will find  plight full, dear letter.

Her limbs which she used to keep covered,
With the softness and colors of beautiful silk sarees,
You would find them covered now with,
Coarse cotton Khadi colorless sarees, dear letter.

Seeing her motherland in miseries, 
And her people unfed and uncovered,
She must be wearing that coarse clothes,
On her tender body in sympathy of her people,

Ravindra

Kanpur India      013th Sept 2010                     continues in 40

Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994.


Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 42/50


Patradoot or The Messenger        42/50

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor



You will find everything here,  disarranged and disturbed,
Like the shining less face of my sad beloved,    dear letter,
When you would reach along with her,             on her bed,
To take a rest,           in the sweet company of my beloved.

That tender girl with a loving heart,     looks after my  patents,
As if, they are her own real father and mother,    O dear letter,
Because of this great affection and  love in her heart for them,
They love my beloved, more than even their precious life, dear.

Suppressing her strong desires, to know more about me dear,
She would leave,        without enjoying your sweet company, 
As she would be serving my patents and her dear sweet child,
With same devotion, as she gives  to me,      when I am there,

Dear Letter, you will get rest and peace,  during the entire day,
While waiting for my beloved to get free from the day’s works,
You would recollect then,    the entire message I gave to  your,
For conveying it,       to my beloved wife,                  dear letter,

When she would retire from day’s long works and duties,       dear,
She would run hurriedly towards you,                         O dear letter, 
With tears of happiness in her eyes,   she would appear before you,
Adoring you  in her mind, since you have messages from her  love,

Ravindra
Kanpur India  31st Oct. 2010 				to continue in 43


Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 


Details | Limerick | |

She really did get this call

I wish I could be a fly on the wall,
  
When my poor old mother gets the phone call,

        “He’s here at the bar
  
        Quick bring us your car,

Your husband just got in a brawl”


Details | Verse | |

Young Fool -To my Father

YOUNG FOOL.

Weren’t you the silly and stubborn young man who came to the land of the Free
and home of the Brave to work for free, starve and get no sleep? How dare you change 
paradise for this?

Once the night fell you got on a tiny boat with a thousand others breaking your mother’s 
heart and making the toughest man on earth cry, your father.

Oh you silly young man... smart, handsome, talented, and humble of only 23 decided to 
risk it all. You had it better than most back home, yet you needed more. You needed to 
set foot on the land of “Once upon a time.”

Days went by, weeks and maybe months, desperation came closer and the toughest 
broke down, the braves returned back home to make it there as if it was meant to be like 
that and the fool like you continued. Even though everything seemed to be endless, you, 
I guess, you trusted God or were too blind folded by your desires that you didn’t back up.

Tierra! (Land!) Was screamed in desperation as a sign of relieve. Tierra! Columbus and his 
men would’ve been ashamed of their cry announcing that they had reached land if they 
would’ve heard you and your companions.

OH, you silly old man, still don’t own a home. Yet, feel that you have accomplished all. 
Like a sleepy baby you got through the days. You made it through with hands that had a 
mind of their own, fixing things, painting, and doing things that still amaze us all.

But you, you didn’t come here for the home, the car of the year, or the Bling Bling but for 
the future of two little girls. Foolishness, ignorance and desire taught you to be the best 
man to walk the surface of the earth, to be tough, to be brave like a soldier and to stay 
humble all the way!

I love you Dad.




Details | Lyric | |

Coming From Where I'm From

Coming from where I’m from
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 in “Death OF A Rose” By Nate Spears


Coming from where I’m from
Every day is a battle to survive 
War is in session 
Right before our eyes

Each day we battle lessons
Just to be in the running for blessings
Coming from where I’m from
We move rapidly on missions

The dead is alive with every walk of the lifeless 
Limited income withholds wealth
The living is near death
Spirits are stripped of guilt

Coming from where I’m from
Deprived wealth
Creates bad health 
In occurrence to this 
Good feelings are killed


The worst gets exposed 
As times get worse
Financial situations become a disaster
No man on earth can rehearse
 
The world is broken
Hunger brings harm
Coming from where I’m from
Dictatorship is not fond

The environment brings the need to shoot
These activities loosens the roots
We’re grounded by values as thin as a pin
We lose ourselves at falling rates like bowling pens

No free passes
Prisons filled in masses
Separated by classes
Coming from where I’m from.



Details | Epic | |

Scent of Paddy Flower

Scent Of Paddy Flower

                                   By Goutam Hazra

           1
Reminiscence

My father told me 
first time 
I was just a boy then,
“Follow the scent of paddy flower
move with the wind it carries,
surely you will go to heaven.”

I remember
he would catch 
fistful of wind
bring near to my face
and wonder,
“Isn’t it godly!”

Magically, opened his hand
but I never felt
what scent he meant.
            
             2
Days of kind rain

“Son, see the misty wind
rushing all over the paddy field
comes every year
to drink the scent of paddy flower.”

Mere as a boy
I could see only
tides of a green plane
touching my little finger
and racing far… too far.
I would ask  
“Where have they gone?”
Smiled my father 
and said
“Did not you listen,
they are going to heaven,
call the goddess then,
‘come goddess dear’
we all are ready with paddy flower.”




Curious was my face,
“Papa, then?”

“Goddess will arrive smiling
her feet will be here
there
everywhere.
Seeing a pot in her hand
all those paddy flowers
delighted, will open their mouth more wider
and life will be poured…”

“Where these flowers come from?”

Remained my father smiling
speaking all his mind
looking high at sky
asked me to see there
spoke he again.

“Rain, rain, kind monsoon rain
on the first day of its shower
kind rain would ask me to come here
with bagful of paddy seeds,
‘let seeds be spread all over,
let its eternal relation with soil
be the fertilizer’
when all said is done
waiting rain 
starts showering its kind
make visible hiding life in the abyss of seed.
Happy wind changes color
being green all around
waits for the day
when the wind would smell the scent of paddy flower.”

Days passed by,
kind rain was still in waiting
sometimes hidden beyond horizon
or simply making sun blind with its smoky face
and whenever wind said,
‘Dry I’m now’
quenched the thirst.

Someday wind played naughty with sun
asked kind rain to make it misty
and with brushes of sun rays 
painted a rainbow on the face of east sky.


Wait was over
green field blossomed with flowers
and wind said,
“Fill in my heart
with scent of flower
I shall bring life…”

Happy was my father’s voice
“Rain, rain, kind monsoon rain
said so
green wind brining life 
did so
scent of paddy flower
is made so.
Bare footed be here
print your soul
in the dust of this soil
kind rain will come
green wind being there
life will be yours 
beautiful
simple
with the scent of paddy flower.”
           
             3
Cruel entropy

How old was I then
nine or ten
my father looked up
up to the sky
again and again
for a month long
only to see 
change of sky’s color
from the color of a summer day to a long humid night.
Dry wind cried at last
over my father’s sweating body
“Rain, rain O kind rain, where have you gone.”

One day sudden
kind rain came again.
Cried to my father
“Why no green wind came this year
from ocean 
to bring me here.
Desert wind why
dry my breath
seeds you have sown
how could I then
enliven with my rain.”

Question 
many question
my father had asked the rain.

Short-lived, hurried rain could spell its last breath,
“I am not that rain 
as was your friend,
I am the curse of dying forest
I am the ghost of all pollution
I am born out of acid weather…”

Who knew, it left for where?

My father cried 
As kind rain left him alone
hiding in a dry wind’s bone.

My father was still
going every morning
asking the soil
in vain
if soil could alone
make the paddy flowers to be born.

Year passed by,
came back the time, 
for green wind to bring kind rain.

Rain came one day.

But why
as a cloudburst
treacherous
roaring always
pouring unwanted
like an unkind monster
flooded misery
in the life of a simple farmer?
           
            4
Relinquishment

Dumb remained my father
for days together
sad was his voice at last,
“Run away, son, run away from here,
sky rain wind
river village land;
thread of this garland
who cuts it
go, stop now there hand.”

Draught and flood,
uncertainty of life 
changed my mind 
as of a farmer’s son.
Books, studies and education
reasons, truth and compassion
might have had fulfilled my father’s mission.

But… 
Does not this civilization
converts us 
as the products to do more production.
Run, run and run 
run ahead of time
let be it, at the cost of inhaling killer tension,
stress taking  over your life.
Insomnia, cholesterol or cynicism
is our success’s companion? 
‘A’ is shaped as ‘B’
and ‘B’ is sold as ‘C’.
Modification
innovation
sophistication
but I found the basic
what it remain
as life’s supreme conviction 
‘simply a fist full of paddy
and its grain’.

             5
Scent of life

So here, I am again
standing in front of this green plane
searching for the shadow of my father.
Green wind surrounds my existence
I can see the dance of those bunches.
My mind whispers to my ear
echoes those words of my father, 
“Bare footed be here
print your soul
in the dust of this soil
rain will come
green wind being there
life will be yours 
beautiful
simple
with the scent of paddy flower.”

I never felt so,
what I smell now 
is the scent of paddy flower.




















Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 36 /Many

Patradoot or The Messenger 36 /Many

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor


She must have left the door, dear letter,
After my detention in the police custody,
Keeping in mind to serve my old parents* and,
To continue her support for the freedom struggle.

She has been brought up under the teachings, 
Of cultural education and musical cult, dear letter,
And with affection and love, I have imparted in her,
Rare qualities and craze for the freedom of our motherland.

Great love and affection  and selfless service of others,
Are only some of the qualities, she has defused in her,
Dipped with the qualities of modesty and kindness,
Are the favorite ornaments of my beloved wife, dear letter.

She would run to receive and welcome you, dear,
After receiving the news of your arrival from her child,
Her graceful appearance and her simple beauty,
Would charm your heart beyond words, dear letter.

Decorated with super most elegance, dear,
You will find in her a slumber of love,
Her waist bent with shyness and grace,
Would increase the weight of her elegance.

Beauty and luster of her face, dear letter,
Always increased its shine and loveliness,
And the sweet smile of ever refreshing face,
Used to charm her husband’s heart, dear letter.

Ravindra

Kanpur India      6th  Sept 2010                     continues in 37.

Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

*Here my father Dr Amar Nath Kapoor is mentioning about his parents i.e
   My grand father.
 

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994.


Details | Free verse | |

My Future Generation

I can act insane
But DO NOT 
Make me feel worthless

I belong in God’s family
He will bless my future generation

Don’t punish me for
Being myself –
Don’t envy my glee 

I can act like an
Adult, but I’d 
Prefer to have joy…

Not stress…
That piles upon us in our 
Everyday lives

Being childlike is

A rare beauty – 

No one prizes it…

No one came across it…

In this lifetime…

I can laugh all day
I can make you smile
If you’d accept my 
Childlike dreams of mine
Don’t treat me like a sick swine

Renew my young heart
Give me the ability 
To kill the old man…

I have my place in God’s family
He’ll be adored and glorified 
We’ll exchange prayers and hugs  
By my future generation

I beg of you – 
Don’t kill my childlike mentality
I’ll behave myself…
I’m positively sure that I’ll make you happy

I’ll still have pieces of a child in me

And pass it on to my future generation…


Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 35 /Many

Patradoot or the Messenger     35/Many……….

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor



The moment she would notice during her plays,
She would shout   ‘ltter’  ‘ltter’* in her broken voice,
Showing the expressions of amazing happiness, dear letter,
Because you would be arriving, from her father’s place, dear.

Her innocence would come out from her expressions,
And from the melody of her broken words, dear,
When, she in her lisping sweet and broken voice,
Would express her affection for her father, dear letter.

While adoring and loving you in her sweet little mind,
She would take you towards east, dear letter,
To tell her mother that you have come, she would,
Convey that in her broken sweet words to her mother.

Filled with the happiness given by the girl child, 
In the garden, you keep moving towards the door, 
Till you reach and see my beloved sitting there,
Singing a lullaby for her darling child, dear letter.

Keeping her eyes on the front door with hopes,
She was praying for me from police atrocities,
With wishes and hopes in her mind, dear letter,
She would be waiting with love in her eyes for me.

Ravindra

Kanpur India      Sept 2010                     continues in 35.


*Ltter.     Letter.

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around  1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. 





Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 37 /Many

Patradoot or The Messenger 37 /Many

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor


You will find my beloved, dear letter,
Faded like the clouds full of water,
Like after the night enjoyment dear,
The woman appears in the morning.

You will find her face pale, dear letter, 
And her steps would be heavy and slow,
When you will notice these signs in her,
She is in pregnancy, you will come to know.

The gloom and paleness, on her face would have come, 
Because of her separation from me, in her pregnancy,
Leaving her ornaments aside, dear letter,
You would find only love and modesty in her. 

While beholding her beautiful lotus stem like hands,
They would look without the glow of shine, due to gloom,
When that lovely woman would appear before you,
To greet and welcome you, dear letter.

My beloved has not received any news about me,
Since a long time, dear letter,
While looking at her face  You would watch, This  
Has weathered the natural glow of her beauty.



Ravindra

Kanpur India      7th Sept 2010                     continues in 38.

Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994.





Details | Epic | |

Incineration of Love God Madan Cupid 5


Incineration of  Love God Madan Cupid
5  of Many

Originally written in Hindi by my late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
1899 to 1994. The work was written in Hindi somewhere around 1965-70.
English version with some editing by Ravindra K Kapoor.

Hindi name ‘Madan Dahan’

Through wisdom by concentration,
And strength of will power,
Through knowledge of self,
By the practice of Yoga*.

One fine spring morning,
When the dawn was spreading, 
Light, to welcome the Sun,
Her supposed father in law.

And was singing the Spring melody,
In tune with the chirping of birds,
The Cuckoo began her evergreen song,
To worship the love God Cupid.

Ravindra
Kanpur 25th April 2012
To continue........

Protected under the copy write provisions of Poetry Soup as per US laws.






Details | Epic | |

Late Night New

Sitting in a chair and watching a movie I get a phone call,
She's dead, my little sister tells me, and I drop the ball.
you are really gone, I can't believe how this can happen,
You didn't have to go, I wish I could of dropped in. 

Hearing and seeing all the tears that are being poured out for you is very sad,
This day will be remembered in yours and you two little angels forever and that's not bad. 
Not being able to see you any more will be hard but ill think of something to occupy my self,
But till than tho, shine bright for our God and save me a crown a big shelf.


Dedication to: Alina Bukhanstova and her two little angels. 

PS: R.I.P, you will be missed.


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Witnesses To Sinners



I can't hear the words as they come from my mouth
I can't hear the screams as they work their way out
As I write all is seen is a blur and blank moment and
Once recovered sensed the words were written,not 
Even a look to see what was written only to know it
Was there.Sleepless night,taunt  filled faces horde my
Dreams.Have this made me fall so low no longer am I
Am I able to stand on my own to feet.How many times 
Will you make me cry before claiming only to being a 
Witness in a crime,your crime. Putting on that face
Working the crowds with amazing easily,how I hate you
Yes all the thing I think about revolve around you.
How many times have I witness myself wound my self
With your blade? As though under a spell doing as order
Without a cry to the world what made me so diligent ?
But no longer can you be a witness,No longer can I be 
A witness to these crimes that been committed.Be us both
Sinners be us both lovers be that we both be cursed 
We shall witness our sins become whole and the love in
Which we share spread further and further like the flames 
Of hades. May there be peace for sinners in the next world.
We are both witnesses and at the same time 
We are both sinners one day to become consumed by our
Own darkness how far will we fall until that moment comes?
May we be good may we be bad may we fall may we live may 
May we die or carry on we are the Witnesses We are the Sinners
To this world and the next.


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

King Of The Fallen

King Of The Fallen



Look upon the king.See his proud stance,his gentle eyes,and his charming smile.Once the prince looked over by and loved by everyone,no one knowing his true self.
See his proud stance,he stands and look down on people.
His gentle eye show nothing more then lies.
Such a caring smiling he uses to massacre thousands.
Let him rule your mind but keep your heart
Let him judge over you but never about you
Let him rain cruelty over but may you remain pure
Look upon my king see his monarchy shatter before his eye's,as the evil he has done catch up to him.His children taken,his wife's broken,and his castle destroyed.
Look at the prince who was loved,look at the king who was feared,looks at the king who is now fallen into despair.
Look upon the king.See his proud stance,his gentle eye and charming smile.
See his proud stance as he looked on down on the weak.
See his gentle eye's,see the lies that spur in them.
See his charming smile,like a wicked prince ready to tangle you up and put your out of your mind..
He has fallen
He is broken
He was taken
He is now in despair
He has ruled your mind,now his heart is gone.
He has judged you,now is being judged for himself of himself.
He has rain cruelty over you,now he is impure and Ingenta.
Look he's kingdom has fell and now the deed's of his injustice has ensnared him.
Look his leg's broken.
Look his eye's have been gouged.
Look his smile has been cut.
Look at his wives they are broken.
Look at they children are taken without words of appease.
And his home is destroy in flames.
Look upon the the fallen king,no tears shall fall from his eye's only the blood from his mouth,and the words of death.
Fare thee well world,this game of cat and mouse,and of death and life.How I enjoyed it to the fullest,but now my home is in fired my children taken my wives broken and my body destroyed.This must be punishment for being the King of the Fallen.


Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 38 /Many

Patradoot or The Messenger 38 /Many

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor


The charm and beauty of her lovely eyes, dear,
I could not find even in the loveliness of a deer,
Such are the fascinating charms of her eyes, 
Even the Sun would not come out feeling shy. 

If any tears would appear in her eyes by mistake,
It would get burnt by the shine of her eyelids, dear letter,
Even the bunch of deer moving here and there
Would feel shy to behold the beauty of such eyes.

Such lovely pairs of my beloved’s eyes would be luster less
Because of her long waiting for me and her silent sobbing,
The moment she would see and hear you, dear letter,
Tears would start coming out from her eyes like rivers.

Her face use to shine like the full Moon, dear letter,
After the tender touch of my love rains,
In compassion of seeing such beauty of her, dear,
The Moon too would feel shy to appear before her.

During the chewing of beetle leafs dear letter, 
Her lips used to get red,  darker than the lotus petals,
Seeing even Sun with its alluring redness would feel,
Shy to come out before my beloved,  dear letter. 

Ravindra

Kanpur India      09th Sept 2010                     continues in 39

Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994.


Details | Pastoral | |

Christ Upon A Blessing



      *********

A God for all season's
Encompass for only one reason
And that is to re-coup
For the blessings'
That some-how was lost
      ------
Fore on that very day
Christ ascended the Cross
      ------
Oh', yes
Their was a price to pay
And of that portion
It was paid that very day
When the face of baby
Christ Jesus,
Was set on display
As He laid stillness lay
Upon His tomb
      -----
Where non-believers 
Has since not seen Him
To this very day
      ------
While the common people
Simply stood by
Silently as they prayed
     He had gone
Much, much too soon
           - And -
Yet, their was no one there
To witness the affair
When He suddenly
Leaf the room
      ------
For the survival of man-kind
In order that not a single Soul
Be left behind....
He ascended the Heavens'
Where their was no love
Lost to be found
      -----
To be with His Father
Your father and mind
Fore it was His destiny
One of the requirements'
Of the Father of time...      
      ------
And a funny thing happen
It was needless to say
Thank God for eternal life's delay
      ------
Fore Christ of Jesus
A descendent from the Cross
Had paid for our sin
He accepted the cost
      
                GF


Details | Rhyme | |

America Is Being DESTROYED From Within

 

As sin and perversion often become integrated… So many lives and families are being “disintegrated.” Many are being driven by sin’s temptation force… It’s no wonder much of this country is way “off course.” The morality and values that once made a great nation. Are evaporating…. Leading to a “spiritual separation.” Love, honor, and respect of God… Is often a “thing of the past.” Anything of God seems to be disappearing FAST! God is our only hope! And him alone! Only he can bring healing to our broken homes! He’s the answer to this wounded nation, that bleeds! It’s only God that can meet all of our needs! He’s our provider… The great: “I am!” Won’t you reach out to him? And give him your hand? Why not give him a chance? And allow him in? A brand new life for you… Is waiting to begin! May we allow God’s holiness and love to reach down into our hearts… Asking; “Lord please forgive our sins!” Is a good place to start! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 34 /Many

Patradoot or the Messenger     34/Many……….

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor



Like a naughty girl, she acts in many ways, dear letter,
To attract our attention by laughing or even weeping,
And often she gets angry on us still she wins our hearts,
When she sings her broken melodies, while sweetly mumbling.

As a lovely doll, she attracts and wins,
Everyone’s attention and heart, dear,
Remembrance of her sweet face,
Has made my heart so heavy, 

As a newly come-up charming bud, 
She is dearer to us than our life, dear letter.
She is even a darling of all the plants, 
Trees, creepers and flowers of our garden, dear.

When the memories of her dear father, 
Would be splashing in her tender heart, dear letter,
She would be going amid the plants and trees,
To distract the memory of her father, dear.

She is the hope and strength of her mother,
When I am away for freedom struggle or in jail,
In the lovely face of my daughter, you would find,
An image of her father, dear letter.

By the time you will get acquainted,
With this lovely child of us and of nature,
You would recollect immediately, dear letter,
My message you have to convey to my beloved.

Ravindra

Kanpur India  3rd Sept 2010                     continue in 35..

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around  1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. 




Details | Ballad | |

A Better Life...

A Better Life

I don't know why she hides,
I don't know why she shivers,
I don't know why she cries,
I don't know why she quivers,

Daddy's girl is all alone,
And I don't know how to help her,
Daddy's world is all but blown,
And I don't know what to tell her,

What happened to her confidence,
And her self assured way,
Which used to be so prominent,
In all she did or would say,

Who stole my little girl’s heart,
And drove her to such confusion,
She now slowly does her part,
As if all she has is illusion,

She knows I would kill any other man,
For doing such harm to my little girl,
But this is much more than I can stand,
As it has forever blown apart my world,

They took ‘steps’ to the next level,
And now they each look to me in despair,
I warned them each to be careful,
But the forbidden fruit they shared,

Now I look at one without trust,
Yet I still love my son so very much,
I still hold her distant as I must,
But she needs Daddy’s healing touch,

Why do I have to be the bad guy,
When my children need my help,
I pushed one out and I still cry,
While I can't help her help herself,

There is no way to win here,
And my tears won't stop falling,
I have lost them both I fear,
And my fears won't stop calling,

I don’t know what to do anymore,
Or how I can help either of them,
Both children my heart cries out for,
But the truth is neither can win, 

And for this my darling kids,
I am so sorry I can’t decide,
Which to disown or which to kiss,
When I am actually on both your sides,

So I pray that both her and him,
Of whom I am so very proud,
Do not give up and become victims,
Who wear this pain like a shroud,

I pray both of you hear my advice,
Get over this hardship and understand,
This lesson with its terrible price,
Is one where you do as best you can,

To forgive and move on from here,
Without Dad having to choose a side,
And to let go of all that you fear,
If you want to grow to have a better life.


Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 33 /Many

Patradoot or The Messenger33 /Many 
  
English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor


A little garden you will find, in front of my house,
Full of beautiful plants and fragrance spreading creepers,
Its enchanting smell would force you to stop for a while,
And its loveliness would keep fascinating you, dear letter.

This lovely garden is the creation of my father*, dear,
Who has put his labor and efforts to make it, so beautiful,
That it’s a joy to be among the green plants and creepers,
His garden speaks and enchants every one, dear letter. 

The sad green plants of the garden without flowers,
Would narrate the state of sadness of the dwellers,  
And it’s bending branches and tree twigs would convey, 
The agonies and worries of my beloved’s heart, dear letter.

Here you would also meet, my lovely little daughter, dear letter,
When you see her playing among the plants and trees,
And you will get a chance to listen her broken melodies,
She would be mumbling, while playing with her friend trees.

My sweet little daughter Krishna, is a lovely delicate child,
She is the beloved of our hearts, hardly twenty four months old,
Krishna is charming, beautiful and alert like lightening,
To catch your attention, immediately, dear letter.



Ravindra                                                       to continue in 34…

Kanpur India      ….. August  2010 
*father.              Father of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor or my grand father.

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around  1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. 






Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 31 /Many


Patradoot or The Messenger31 /Many 
  
English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor



You would find, the inhabitants of this lovely place,
Lives a happy cultured life here,
While singing the joyous songs, every day,
In praise of our motherland, dear letter.

All my friends would gather, the moment they would know,
You are enquiring my address, some where very near to my place,  
Here you would witness the sign of pain and the feelings of separation,
And watching their face, you would find their eyes full of tears, Dear letter.

With cheerful anxiety they would ask, 
From where you have come, O dear letter,
And why you are enquiring, please tell us?
The name of our friend’s beloved, O dear. 

What letter you have brought, 
From our friend’s place,
And what message our friend has sent?
For his dear friends, from the jail, dear letter.

Tell my friends, O dear letter,
That your companion is happy in jail,
And has given the message for you,
That victory will soon be with us.

Tears of happiness would come out from their eyes,
And they would embrace you in love, dear letter,
Without wasting even a moment, they would bring you,
To the house, where lives my beloved wife, O dear. 


Ravindra

Kanpur India   24th  August 2010                           to continue in 32



Clarifications:

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around  1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. 




Details | Haiku | |

God's Discipline

God's criticism towards our life 
Is like a father-&-son relationship
-- he disciplines us well with peace


Details | Epic | |

Statutory Rape 101

Everybody knows that it's against the law for grown men and grown women to date all of the underage boys and girls,. let alone a 14-year-old boy or a 15-year-old girl. The law also states that any adult who tries to have this so-called "intimate sexual relationship" with any of the underage boys and/or girls would likely go to jail for a period of time and upon release, they'll have to be register sex offenders for the rest of their lives. It seems that those teen girls would rather date men in their 20's or 30s than guys their age and those teen boys would rather date women twice their age than girls their age, as well. but luckily, their parents (the mothers and the fathers) are here to prevent these so-called "May-December" relationships from ever happening, especially when they're protecting their teenage offspring from dirt-bags like these would-be pedophiles. But no matter what the parents do, no matter how hard they try, their teen sons and/or daughters, they secretly continuing dating older men/older women, even at night (midnight, 2 am, or 3 in the morning, e.g.). And the next thing everybody knows, their parents, they will have found out about it; thereby finding them in bed with the adults; their parents should make multiple police reports and pud the cradle robbers behind bars for good. Boy this is starting to look like an episode of "Law & Order: Special Victims Unit" (Season 6-Episode 19-Intoxicated featuring Danielle Panabaker) and an episode of "Snapped," especially when Sarah Johnson killed her own parents in cold blood because she was afraid that the late Mr. and Mrs. Alan and Diane Johnson would send this guy name Bruno Santos to prison or have him deported back to Mexico for statutory rape (by way of dating a then-16-year-old girl). There's no way that those teen boys and teen girls are ever going to get into a bunch of serious, intimate relationships with a bunch of would-be cradle-robbing adults. They need to concentrate on their education and they need to be with guys and girls their age. I mean, one teen boy dating a n adult female? One teen girl dating an older man? My God, their parents will be seriously upset about this. Who on Earth would be dumb enough to fall for an older woman or an older man? And if these would-be pedophiles in the form of grown men and women even attempt to rob these teen boys and girls of their innocence and whatnot, the parents are going to have a problem up in here.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Ugliness Of Divorce


My parents taught me the Christian ways.
I was taught to obey what the Bible says.

I was proud of my parents!  I really was!
And loved them so much…  Just because!

They meant everything to me!  I was proud!
Until one day...  There appeared “a dark cloud.”

It was like a “darkness” hovered above.
Leaving their marriage empty of needed love!

Though they were together many years.
There were many cracks that soon appeared.

I say a once happy home soon destroyed.
Being with one another….  They no longer enjoyed!

How could this happen! I had wondered…
To see a happy marriage “totally plundered

As sin crept in...  And allowed to prevail.
Very soon this marriage simply failed.

May this be a warning for me and you…
That our commitment remains faithful and true!

If your marriage is heading toward separation…
Please seek God for a healing and restoration!

If your planning to have a divorce..
Jesus’ love can put it on the right course!

He can replace the brokenness and hurt within..
And can put your lives back together AGAIN!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | Epic | |

All men are Broken

I am not like your earthly father, why do you treat Me like him?
I am an all consuming love 
I am not double-minded; I can’t lie or hurt you with sin,
I created you to be more than what you currently are,
For the father fracture has caused so many of My children to be scared,

All men are broken,
All men were broken,
By their fathers who passed it down to you,
My sons and daughters there is nothing to impossible for me too do,

I am much bigger than anything you face and fear,
I am the Father who has seen every tear,
I am the Father who knows your deepest pain,
I am the Father who will always remain,

Though many fathers meant well they still could never be,
All that I am able to be unto thee,
You’re not your father, you’re not going to be the same,
You were never meant to live with the anxieties of a childhood filled with pain,
So let Me love you, let me in, I am not counting all your sins,
Let Me show you what you have never seen,
For perfect love heals and restores all lost dreams,

I am not your father, please blame me no more,
If you could only see what I have planned for your future; the greatness I have in store,
You would understand, you would forget the past, 
You would forgive your fathers, who didn’t know better and couldn’t fulfill their tasks,

A generation has been created,
That has been jaded and recklessly complicated,
I understand, but take my hand; I am not like a carnal man,
I will show you unconditional love that will never fail,
When things get tough I am the Father who will never bail,

I am not like your father, I have been falsely accused,
I am the father who will never leave your side, disappoint you, or abuse
I have watched you all your life suffer in silence, while hiding behind everything and anything to numb yourself well,
I was there every time you slipped up and every time you fell,

But listen my beloved, I call out to you each day,
Just stay quiet for a moment and you will hear what I want to say…

I am here; you are ever before me, for I carved your name in my hand,
I know how to reach you, for I loved you before you ever reached this land,

A broken child becomes a broken man,
Until he knows his heavenly Father is his biggest fan.
Give Me a chance to show you and you will finally understand
That it is My love that will guide you, just take hold of my hand.

By: Sabina Nicole


Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 32/Many


Patradoot or The Messenger32 /Many 
  
English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

DESCRIPTION OF MY HOUSE

You will find a small simple temple,
In front of my house, dear letter,
And you would be fascinated to look,
At the beautiful statue of Lord Shiva*.

The simplicity of this small temple,
Would resemble like a simple hut,
Free from rich man’s pomp and show,
Its beauty would fascinate you, dear letter.

All the devotees of this temple, decorate it with care, 
And with great devotion, they worship Shiva everyday,
And happily they accept, what ever Prasad* they get,
As a token of blessings of Lord Shiva, dear letter.

On the left of that temple, you would find, dear,
My simple dwelling house, decorated with love,
While entering in the compound, you will find,
All around there, green plants and lovely creepers.


Ravindra                                                       to continue in 33…

Kanpur India  30th  August  2010 

Clarifications:

• *Lord Shiva.  Shiva means Perfection of Truth, Beauty and completeness. He is blessed   
with the powers of creation and destruction of the entire universe as per Hindu mythology.
• *Prasad.  Hindi word means what ever is offered by devotees to their favorite 
Gods and Goddesses in the form of fruits and sweets etc a part of it is distributed 
among the devotees as blessings of God is called Prasad.

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. 



Details | Canzone | |

Staying Sober

I know this is the hardest *****for me to ever do
I know alcohol has always been apart of my life it's like it's the only truth
sometimes I drink so much I can't even remember you

I want to stay sober yet I still keep thinking about that next drink
I'd rather sit in my alcoholic pains trapped in the bottle where many dreams seem to sink
I know once that bottle is empty all thats left is me and my thoughts shattered in a dream
I can hear my inner soul holler while my spirit seems to scream
I know I can be an alcholic fiend
But don't judge until you have walked in my shoes and seen what I've seen

I know I try and let this *****go
but yet without the booze it seems I can't let my mind grow
It's like I need this *****just to make it to another daily show
I been through all this same *****before
I know what it's like when an alcoholic is sitting in his own filth on the floor
I know I need to be a better father so my kids don't grow up to be poor

I need to provide
I need to speak truth and get past all my own lies
I need to comfort my kids when I her their cries
I need to find the solution when it's hard for my family to find
I need to think about my kids so they remeber me as a good father in this time

I need to find a way 
I need to find a way to smile for the day  
Im trapped in a ark alcoholic daze
You see me running around alcoholic words like Im in some written maze
I know it's really up to me to make that one significant change
I know I used to everyday but it seems nowadays I almost never pray
and it should'nt be that way when my skies are all dark and gray

I know my life is almost over 
I done ran my luck I only got one clove left on my four leaf clover
Her name is struggle and strife and it feels as if only Im the one who knows her
But i guess life is what I make it and it should'nt be so hard to staying sober


Details | Light Poetry | |

Magical Candy Canes

Two little candy canes were bought at a store.
Excitement abounded as they’d have a new home, to explore.
Snuggled in a sack with beautiful toys all around.
Theirs was be a happy life, you can be sure, they had found

They arrived at their new home, as in a blink.
And what did they see, oh my, everything.
All that they’d dreamt of, was before them, you know.
And foremost was the tree… that they would call home.

The tree was decorated with such aplomb and fanfare, well done.
The children laughed and giggled as they ran all around.
What a riotous but organized day of joy it had become.
With tinsel, and ornaments, and lights so profound.

The candy canes were finally put on that glorious tree,
As, yes, a few were eaten by you and by me.
The ceremony ended when an angel was placed by Papa on top.
And no one made a sound, then vibrantly applauded as he came down. 

Finally they all had dinner in the room beyond, that night.
As all settled in to wait for that illustrious visit, so right.
Joy abounded all over this house as presents were, so nicely wrapped.
And cookies were made to hand all about.

The last of the candy canes would finally be eaten on Christmas Day…
As presents lay opened and children did play.
Now don’t be sad for those two magical candy canes…
They stole a ride with Santa to the North Pole on that special day.

Merry Christmas to all at Poetry Soup!


Details | Free verse | |

My Grandfathers Dying Wish

See problems they no worry Timothy
He was raised by his Great Grandmother
One day she taught him
Miho you can make life beautiful or ugly
Work hard, find a woman who has a strong back
Beauty fades it doesn’t last long
Now let me tell you 
A woman with a strong back may not be your perfect companion
Times are changing, I think Faith is more important these days
I say okay Grandma, can I have the horachata now that you made me
No hush up! You can have it when I’m finished talking
Timothy come your poor Grandfather wanted you to have this
It is his Journal and I have never read out of it
She hands it to me
I am struck by it’s cover, it is brown and plain
Yet it spoke to me by it’s elegant style
These words were printed on the cover “Blanco Vendetta”
I was drawn and pulled in untill I was covered by the spell
The first page I open too it says “My first Mil Besos”
The Temptess that blew my heart away
I turn to page 33
It says “The story of an Apache Warrior”
There are no rules to an Apache Warrior when it comes to fighting
He says if you are my enemy I don’t care how but I’m gonna kill you
Page 41 is like a fist full of words thrown across the page
Barrio boxing, The protection of the Shield of Faith
Brokenhearted for my careless speech has left her heartbroken
Strengthened by Love “Amor”
Nourished by the sunshine in her hand
There is healing in its beams
Blessed by her presence Del Dios I am Greatful
I’m like Grandpa what did you say wrong
Then these words come to me
Give her your full attention when she speaks to you
Because the Heart of the Wise studies how to answer
So I close it and my finger brushes a bookmark
It’s the Last page
It says To: “Timothy my son who is as mighty as an army”
I Thank you for the Greatest Gift
For the Greatest Gifts are as small as your small hand that touched me
I plant these seeds and they will take root and grow because you are good ground
Timothy let me say That without you I would of never found my Faith in GOD
Listen for it is your Grandfather who is dead and speechless
Timothy you see the good in everything
And I know you will understand my words clearly
If a man gives you his word
Promise me not to plan your future on it
And if you give your word my son
Do everything in your Power to fulfill it
AND NEVER Promise more than you can deliver 
For it is better to put out more than you promised
Everyman is considered unwise when he appears foolish
I wish I could give you some insight about women
But your Great Grandmother may help you better than I can
But never timothy, Never be quick to fall in Love 
Or give your heart to a woman
Listen carefully to her words when she speaks to you
Cherish Her give her your full undue attention 
Because the Heart of the Wise studies how to answer
Love your neighbors as yourself
And do not strive against another man
If he has done nothing wrong to offend you
AS much as it is possible live peacefully with all men
And it is okay for you to speak these things with your Great Grandmother
She is a very wise and God-fearing woman
Amor take the greatest care of her, I Love you Son
Timothy when the time comes to avenge my death
Hit harder then you ever have before
But not in a Duel son, not like an open Vendetta
Marry his daughter Maria
The one who is pretty and Two years younger than you
Oh! He will suffer greatly!
And it will kill him to know that I chose this way to repay him
And remember son to be ready to fight any man at the drop of a hat


Details | Lyric | |

UNFOLD

The pain of change as it unfolds
Is oft a tale that stays untold
What is seen is a whole creature
not deep holes in the feature
nor concrete soles that makes his feet hurt

It all begins with a soft kiss
He is walking with a false bliss
Only following in paw prints
But the nature of mom's lips
Is to rob him of all innocence

Trapped in warm spindles of fear
A wrapped life form kindles in here
Four years bound to shingles of moss
Time to leave this life of sloths
Break free like that of a moth
and Rise again like Christ on the cross


Details | I do not know? | |

Why is it?

Why is it that school's say that they are preparing you for life, 

But really they are preparing you for more school?

Who knows?

That has always been on mind for the past few days.

*comment if you know why or if you have any ideas*




                                        -angel4eva23


Details | Personification | |

A New Kingdom




     *********

Doe's things' seem strange
Not what they used to be
             Well...
This is for the first time
The first time in History
      ------
Doe's things' seem slow
While a bestselling economy
   Just doe's not grow'
Everything is a shroud
         In mystery...
And everyone must know...
         ------
         It is time
  It is time one may say
For a One World Government
        To save the day'
        --------
But, their is one thing
That I would like to say
      And that is that
           Except...
By the Blood of Jesus
Things' wouldn't be this way
          --------
What We really don't need
    Is a new government
        What we do need
Is a New Covenant'
     A Covenant'
         With ' GOD '
        --------
      Did anyone think
            Of the way
       That it should be
To dwell in the House of the Lord
            For all Eternity...
To be with the Prince of King'
    To be with the Almighty
With-in the Kingdom of ' GOD '
Where He has already prepared
      A place for you and me...


Details | I do not know? | |

Cry me a River

Cry to your mother as she is the only one

That will listen to your tears of how things are run

How can we expect to move on

When we live in the past of how it was done

Get over it my friend before it resorts to guns

Your ignorance of living in the past 

Is what is killing your son

How can you expect the next generation to let go

If you hold on, be a bigger man so now show

Stop blaming our ancestors actions on us

If it were up to me I would rewrite history with lust

And have it shift so we can all be free

But this is not a land of cotton candy

We cant eat the houses made from sugar

But I can save the world from your blind hatred towards her

So stop being a bigot when saying "release me"

When you have not released yourself from history

Every race and religion has served their time

To the dictators and rulers of insane prime

We have all died and were punished for a crime

That we did not commit just based on our backround

So again stop spreading more hate based on this

We are all brothers in retrospect when you remove your hiss

For a snake is what you are untl you realize your bliss

I feel sorry for you you blind f$ck, the bus you just missed

Was the one towards freedom but your to busy

Weaving your own dismiss............

Stupid reverse racist bastard, cry me a river.......

Dont raise your child to hate me cause of my ancestors actions

What you are doing is the reverse of the factions

Put it place in this land of free

But I am sure with your bigotry you disagree

Cry me a river.......

Then drown in it.......


Details | Verse | |

US

For every woman, there is A 
man, who will join her,at the 
throne,As their alter for 
life,becomes blessed in the 
eyes of god,around family and 
friends,they are cherry to the 
bitter end,with nothing to 
fear,as their love for one 
another,becomes a blooming 
bundle,that grows to sprout,
like stars,continuously,forever,
To death do us part,in sickness,
and health, I will cherish you 
always, my love...


Dedication to Richard Palmer and me...


Details | Ballad | |

THE WISHING WELL OF A SUN-RISE,

It is...within the tiny things of early morning, that moment breaths alive, it is within the tiny whisperings, that a melodye plays...like the very dear and the antelope, play home on the range.

so goes the melodye of heart beat, that plays quietly the songs of soul,

here a rhyme is born of day-light coming so soon, through the early morning eyes of the moon-light, and the starry dreams of twilight's transitioning...

into the light of a love letter written to dawn.

soul to soul conversing, as in this love letter, the letters just join hands with the words and just march across the sky...and at the end of the rainbow, there be plenty of golden time,

way down deep on the inside,

...as the inspired choir, of a bumble bee, or a butterfly, starts to sing, like tiny things that live,

flower to flower,
blossom to bloom,

watered and deeply cared for...

O' Eden.

I say, deep beneath the surface of a wishing well...where the pennies lay,

I wish a sun-rise.








Details | Epic | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 1 Many

Patradoot or The Messenger  1/Many


English version by Ravindra K Kapoor


I am in meditation for the same God,

Whom you also pray, praise and meditate,

You who is born from my hand and pen,

Have a better destiny than your originator.


Ravindra

Kanpur India  9th May 2010		to continue in 02/Many

Note: The entire poetry work  created by my father 
is addressed to a Letter.


Transliteration of Hindi poem in English- Patradoot or the Messenger.


Main  Bhi Dhyata,  Usi Murti Ka

Tu Bhi Dhyan Lagata  Hai,

Mere  Kar Se Janmaa Tu,

Mujhse Saubhagya, Bada Tera Hai.


Original work in Hindi written by my late father Late Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
way back in 1932.

English version is more than the exact translation of my 
father’s Patradoot or the Messenger.

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 




Details | Rubaiyat | |

Eager To Live

Search is continuous in these words I have penned 
Eager in anticipation for a message please send
A thirst unrelenting is my desire for you to quench
Bless me Oh, Lord with your fisherman’s bend

What reason do I have otherwise but in you to exist?
Give me the strength over temptations that always persist
Thank you for granting me a new day to grow in you
Ultimately the goal allows your will in me to insist

The journey is part of the lesson one must learn
Bless me with the ability so my mind may discern
Knowledge and understand with wisdom of you
Forget me not Oh, Lord on the day of your return


Details | Imagism | |

Something good

The smell of coffee: hot and bitter in the cold winter night 
With the rhythm in the left hand and the rhyme in the right, 
He wrote a poem in his secret pocket,
A wistful star like a speedy rocket
Ready to leave this planet intense blue
In search of other traces of life anew.
He remembered after mother had died,
In the cold touch ,stalagmites and stalactites cried.
Father and son felt a strong taste for sweets.
As in the sunset, the blind boatman meets
With an awkward touch the water`s ring
But generally they needn`t to eat anything
For a while they rested an extraordinary team:
Father insistently (sometimes boring) told him
All his recollections:childhood,war and the rest…
All muscles and teeth pressed hot, like ice on the crest.
The son learnt them by heart, and later
He would retell them to father, even better…
One was on duty to wash the dishes;
The other tried to follow his wishes…

Their only joy was to read and read and read…
One had to cook at home ,and to bake the bread
In a bread factory:He was happy even when he was sad.
He could recognize each bread: All his loafs were bad.
He was like Chaplin in “New Times”.
He was speaking in figures and rhymes.  
He wore a monk beard and father was much more younger.
Looking through the window: grey hunger and anger …

At the weekend, he used to ask his father 
About the favourite meal, but rather
He would find a surprise the next day.
Each day was windy winter and grey…

Father had the same touching answer:”Something good”.
In the strange interference ,water and fire ,one was rude.
Solitude  was their common friend stealing in like a lizard,                                       
But, in the afternoon they played sweeping their courtyard.
They had leaves in autumn and snow in the winter.
The sky was grey without sun, the clouds were bitter.
Father was counting the leaves, in the old horizon
The son was painting the days ,in the cold horizon.


The war with the falling down leaves fighting hard 
With red faces like an inveterate drunkard .
And years after his father met his final hope,
The son would stop in front of  the sweets shop , 
Ready to buy recollections as Christmas tree sweets.


Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 30 /Many


Patradoot or The Messenger30 /Many 
  
English version by  Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor


How beautiful is my city Prayag*, dear letter,
Which enchants the visitors and enthralls,
By the lovely simplicity of its houses,
And the warmth of the hearts of its dwellers.

Amid the doors and windows of its houses,
You would find sweet and cool breeze blowing,
And a serene happiness you would find,
On the faces of its lovely citizens. dear. 

You would find the people of this city,
Full of patience and quite energetic,
By the time you would reach,
The place near my door, dear letter.

DESCRIPTION OF THE DWELLING HOUSE

To get released from the custody of the Postman,
You will go in his hand, dear letter,
Thus you will get the chance to get free,
To convey my message to my beloved.

Among the beautiful loving inhabitants,
Of my place, known as Bharti Bhavan, 
You would see they love their friend’s life even,
More preciously then their own, dear letter.

Ravindra

Kanpur 21st August 2010.                          to continue in 31

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Clarifications:

* Prayag 		Allahabad is also know as Prayag or Triveni. And Allahabad  is the 
                                    most ancient city  of India, 
Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around  1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. 

















Details | Epic | |

Young Cronus

YOUNG CRONUS	(5.7.09)

My father decided he wanted his children		
buried, and left for dead.
But my mother, Gaea, both fair and true,
spared her children instead.
So I met with my selfish father,
where, by Gaea, we both were led,
and, holding the sickle she gave me,
this is what I said:

"Hello, dearest father.
I'm glad that you came. After years without you, 		
I know how you feel about us.				
I just hope you know:  We feel the same about you."

"But we are not here to argue.
I came here to say good bye."
He knew farewells were in order,
but he did not yet, know why.
I explained our situation,
as my siblings stood idly by,
saying, "If you don't want to have children,
you cannot be swayed, so I won't even try.
But its too late to go back now.
You cannot erase my family and I.
So that leaves us only one option,
and that's why I'm saying goodbye."

"Goodbye, worthless father.
I'm glad that you came.  Now pay what is due. 			
We know how you feel about us,
and now you know how we feel about you."

He regretted the seeds he had sewn,
so, in charity, I reaped his remorse.
I swung my sickle pure and precise,
with such fervent and furious force;
His blood was late to react to the wound,
and that which was lost by means of divorce,
found it's new home in the deep, dark, blue ocean-
unable to ever return to it's source.

	Together with most of my brothers and sisters,
	there seemed to be no better fit
	than to send him away, as he would have sent us;
	to the bottomless Tartarus pit.

"Goodbye, worthless father.
I'm glad that you came, and you paid what was due.
We knew how you felt about all of us,
so we showed you just how we all feel about you." 	

"Farewell forever, father.
I'm glad that you're gone, and I'll never atone.		
Know that your fear was what you created,
as I take my seat in what once was your throne."


Details | I do not know? | |

The Second Coming of God

The good book does call for the second coming
Beyond the gates he does show his face cunning
The drip of the water that beads on his head
Holy water from the veins of the dead
Dark is he with ears pronounced
To hear the fall of those announced
His beaded nose to smell the fear
As he lines his pockets with your soul so near
Your children will fall for his precious spell
As he whistled with glee steering boats to hell
His empire will rise like the 4th Reich fuels
As his moustache no longer is needed to rule 
Instead he is kind or at least he seems
As the leader of evil will make your child scream
He will deceive as you enter his land of kind
As you sell your soul to relieve your mind
Today is the day the second coming comes true
Today you will kneel to a rodent so cruel
As you slip your dual ears to look like him
Say you holy rosaries and submit your kin
Put your white gloves on to cover your black
For Mickey Mouse is your God and the ruler of tact


Details | I do not know? | |

The White of Your Eyes

As I look at the whites of your eyes
I feel horror, fear rumbling inside me.

I grind my teeth together when I see you walking.

I fear you, I fear when you talk, shout, when you raise your hand.

I'v always feared you, but no more.
The fear I had of you I turned it into courage.

Now I no longer fear you.
I laugh when you raise your hand, when you shout.

Cuz the only thing I see you as...
Is a dead man walking.

And now your in the ground where you belong.


( If you may PLEASE comment of Mail me. Sorry i havn't been on in a long time... ALOT has happened this year to me)


Details | ABC | |

Never Thought It Would Happen

We began so little and young, 
Life beat us bad and twisted our tongue.
You and I walked a pretty rough road I can say
When you stumbled I was always there to make you stay.

Stay and not give up, I didn't give up on you than, so I wont give up on you now, 
We danced our life so brutally and softly, but this time you didn't look my way and bounced. 
I thought we would go on like this forever, but I guess like people say, 
Nothing lasts forever.


Details | Personification | |

Blast From The Past






      ******

Will their be a New Government
   Is this some kind of trick
        Will His name be Lucifer?
                  ------
          The infamous' 666
                  ------
               Fore we....
      Have been a fore warned
       Way back from the day'
       That their will be no ' GOD '
                  Before He..
       And that is the only way'
           That we shall see Him
                     On Calvary....
            And that it is to He
         That we must pray...


                        Gary Fields
                        Poet Author

copyright Apr2012
poetrysoup.com


Details | Rhyme | |

I Knew Someone Who Wanted to End It All

I Knew Someone Who Was Ready to “End It All!” I knew of someone who just wanted “to end it.” Giving up on life, and did not want to “defend it.” It was a heart wrenching and difficult situation. He said what he wanted to, with no explanation! I could see his face and the sad look in his eyes! What he was going to do next, was anyone’s surprise. He turned to drugs and encountered addictions. With this brought much disease and afflictions! He gave up on the wonderful family that was given. And turned to a pretty wild and crazy way of livin’! I told him about a God who loves him very deeply. As he listened, he began to grow restless and weary. I reached for his hand and began to pray for God’s power! It was a miracle! The blood of Jesus changed him that hour! The spirit of God brought healing and hope to his body! He was so excited! He rushed out to tell everybody! The “end” that he wanted, seemed to just fade away! For the son of the living God, changed him this day! The glory of God, and the power of Jesus’ resurrection… Changed him! And got him going in a NEW direction! He’s so thankful for the blood of Christ’ atonement! And is a different person now, because of that moment! This same Jesus loves and can do the same for YOU! Through the problems of life… He will see you through! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Bio | |

The World In Contempt

*********The Rest to God is gravy!*******


Auh!
Dieing for the Lord
Is a dieing profession
Thus ly, I commit to His Own Will
Thine Own Will
Which will be done incessantly
Providing a place for Me
For Eternal-ty ..
With-0ut question...
      ------
I wait for the day
That He shall carry me home
To do attendance to His House
To lay upon His Throne
To be the Minds' Keeper
When no one else' is home
Leaving me so all alone
Where Heaven makes' such
A Heavenly sound
      ------
Where their are Lots' of
Pretty Angel's seemingly
So all around,
Where My feet barely
Touch the  Ground
     ----
In this place 
Thy, Shall never be alone
Fore this is Thy only home
And from Thee..
Never shall I roam
      ------
To venture the distance
      Of His dynasty
For for-ever long lasting 
For ever long that may be
To wave that Ever-Lasting Torch
That which was made for Me
And for all else to see
       -----
That these are the things'
That make's a difference
In Life....
      ------
That is life's long mystery
                
                  GF


******God's Destiny is a reality, as to reality, which is nothing but a dream'.


Details | I do not know? | |

Diary of a Leader

Day one please forgive me

I touched a boy in the wrong place

He asked me for retribution

And now I seek an elders embrace

Day two I apologize for what I did

I shot a man to claim his will

I would become a wealthy beast

But I forgot to clean the kill

Day three I touched again now a girl

She would not go away 

She said she would tell mommy

I had to make sure she did not say

Day four went by not a hitch

I slip on my robe to go to school

I stand in front of all that sin

To them I am the word of fools

Day five I really did it now

I promised him I would not do

I slaughtered dreams and acted the fool

As they bow before me I sit so cruel

Day six I created all the world

I relax now let me choose my lul

I must fight the temptation of the young

But they look good because I had none

Day seven must fly for I feel it rise

My feeling like the Lord that I worship

He tells me to spread his good word

But I am too busy destroying his lip

I must now burn this diary in case

I get arrested and they seek on the hate

As I burn this book of all my sin

I must preach to the fools that follow him

For I must get back to work my friend

I am a pasture in my church ...... 

In the name of the father.....son.....and the holy ghost.....(grin)


Details | Light Poetry | |

The road my father paves


Remember seeing my father coming
Home from work on his bicycle
And it was a cold and rainy day
And he was soaking from the drizzle

And I can tell he was getting sick
But he would never once complain
And he would have fever to his bones
And get dress and go back to work again

My father was strong as a mountain
But with a heart soft as a baby cries
And he would live his whole life
Like that until that sad day that he dies

He was a man of very few words
And all his words was full of wisdom
My father never smoke in his life
Or drink alcohol or ever taste rum

My father always led by example
And he was a respected man
And though none of us could be like him
But we will always try the best we can

My father had the biggest heart
Caring for everyone so sincerely
He never close his eyes to those in need
He would give his last unselfishly

So many good things he has done
For all the times he was here
And we all know deep down inside
Now much he really truly care

I wish I had told him more
How much I admired him so
And for the rest of my life he will
Always be the one I look to as my hero

Father even though we might not have say it
We appreciated all that you do
And we have been so truly bless
To have had a father like you

Today on February 6 th
Makes it nine years he past away
And the pain of missing him
Feels like it was just yesterday

We know you are looking at us
From heaven above the sky so blue
And every day of our life’s
Our foot steps will always follow you

Though you have past and gone
Your legacy is for ever engrave
For the future generations to walk
On the righteous road that you pave


Details | Light Poetry | |

Always I Miss You

When I'm home sick, sulking half the day because your not here,
 And getting sadder if I say madder because your not there,
 I remind myself in an unusual way theres worse fared,
 If you don't mind being compared,
 
Repeating the many ways you cared,
 The experiences fondly replayed in many ways,
 Thoughts and memories that make me gay,
 Every recipe, every taste,
 Looking back it all seems in an awkward haste,
 
Now it is what I use to fill my plate,
 It's what I use so I won't be late,
 Staying here learning to appreciate,
 All the miles, trucks caring freight..
 
For your Christmas gifts the children just can't wait,
 But if you visit my mind would quake.


Details | Epitaph | |

telex-visual vogue

tourist toned telephones 
in telex-visual vogue,
forged ahead with chorus lines 
upon the glass housed road, 
eagles eyed the farrowed glen 
that reason disinclined,
signed unto, yet not beyond, 
the elbow let aside, 
parachutes and paratroops 
stood silent up the mouth, 
guys and dolls to half head halls, 
struck match led tens in truth, 
smoke screened years had passed in tears, 
or days that spoke in tongues, 
courteous to those involved, 
yet subservient to none…  


Details | Lyric | |

Counterpole

My rhymes are timeless while this time is lifeless
why is life this kind less, reminds me that this
mind is spineless ready to tip and quit, as
my lies become mindless and get swollen shut
and Stuck up inside my sinus
Drivin in my prime but with no optimus
Victim to the flip-side of the Midas
Running through my blood like a virus
The sun makes my skin mundane
rubbin on ben gay but get arthritis
touch spermicide and converts to hepatitis
I hit the plus sign but it just musters up a minus
I'm seen sucking my thumb like the peanut's Linus
I run and duck when I hear the sirens cause
I abducted the president's Nike air pumps
now air force one is trying to find us
I'm at my desk obsessin about success but
This whole time its been right behind us


Details | Free verse | |

God Saw My Distress and Healed Me part 4

This question drives me up and down the walls
I know for certain that God has answered my calls
I can’t hang up on Him…He’s so brilliant
And I’m so little compared to Him…
Maybe I’m little in size and very insignificant compared to the most High
He gives me quite a natural high
He brings me back home and kisses me good night
Without His love, I’d be lost like a sheep losing his shepherd
I feel like I’m separated to God
As if God and I are on both sides of the coin…
Our oceans don’t collide with each other,
But He does make huge tidal waves…
And I make baby waves that swerve up and down
Like a wave’s movement, my life seems to have its low points and high points
But, when I build enough energy, I glide higher than the clouds
Though, unfortunately, I’ve only been dreaming this
Then, I collapse into the sand...my face rubs against it and I have scrapes all over
Sand and water do mix well, but afterwards, the sea shore’s weight will pile up on the bottom of the ocean floor
I can’t imagine how many grains of sand there are on Earth
There are countless amounts of ants on Earth as well
Trillions and trillions of them are in existence
It’s amazing how plants take in Carbon Dioxide
And we breathe in oxygen…
God is a fantastic creator and He did carve His creations pretty well
God saw my distress and He healed me
When I think about Him, I’m speechless and can’t say much
He’s made out of love and He bubbles me up with excitement
I haven’t given Him the credit of working miracles in my life…
But, I don’t want to divorce God…I must propose to Him like a wife
Does to her husband…I want to submit to Him
He made the sunset, the moon and stars
Look! He even made the planets and He healed our scars
He made the flowers, the roses and the creeping bugs
Look! He even made leaves for our eyes to see…
He made the change of seasons
God saw my distress and healed me
God made the wild cats, bears, reptiles
He made us have a brain that is as neat as black and white tiles
God healed me…and I’m simply glad He did so
God wiped out my distress…and He simply dressed me with happiness and He’s in high spirits to see me grow

 ~ Inspired by the band of Evanescence’s song: Never Go Back 
~ God inspired me to write this poem…


Details | Acrostic | |

You Snooze You Loose

<                                        Artist searching for a muse
                                          Creativity is the key
                                          Recant those memories 
                                          Open your heart and soul
                                          Start spreading the news
                                          There's poetry to be found
                                          Inside each and everyone of us
                                          Can't you hear the music

                                          To the beaten drum
                                          Whistle while you work
                                          Or you'll snooze and lose




Entry For
Jared Pickett's Contest
Acrostic 2
G.L. All


Details | Epic | |

Captain John Francis Dailey, Jr

His sister said to Johnny
“You’re going to go to war
The draft board called your number
They’ll be knocking on your door”
Johnny said “I don’t like marching
And I’ve never loved the sea
That only leaves one option
It’s the Army Air Corps for me”
So he dropped out of his college
And joined the Army Air Corps
He learned to be a pilot
And then he went to war
He was not a fighter pilot
He didn’t fly a jet
He piloted the transports
The biggest you could get
He was flying in the South Seas
When he met an Army nurse
Then something clicked inside him
It was love right from the first
They had to wait the war out
Till the Army nurse went home
They married in her hometown
Then the Air Corps made them roam
In October then of forty-six
They had themselves a daughter
In the Panama Canal Zone
Then he’s flying off over water
Then they lived in Puerto Rico
Where they had themselves a son
September then of forty-eight
They were proud of what they’d done
When they moved to Massachusetts
Johnny’s hometown state
He transferred to the Reserves
Still flying that airfreight
They had another daughter
January – Nineteen-fifty
They were settled into a quiet life
Till Korea got too shifty
Johnny said “I am a pilot
And I was born to fly
I’m going back to full time service
I belong up in the sky”
So he’s back up in his transports
In missions he did live
He said “I’ll do what I must do
And I’ll give all I can give”
In July of nineteen-fifty-one
Another daughter’s born
Then Johnny’s off and flying
His heartstrings all but torn
Then October of that same year
On a quiet home bound flight
Out among the Azores
His plane dropped out of sight
No activity in the area
No SOS last call
He said “I see the Azores”
That was it – that’s all
Despite a massive air search
The biggest one to date
Not a piece of plane or personnel
Nothing known yet of their fate
They searched the sea for weeks and weeks
The airwaves – this and that
He left behind a loving wife
Four kids, a dog, a cat.


Captain John Francis Dailey, Jr. USAF (1918-1951)
It was 60 years ago this October that we lost our Dad.  We never really got to know him but miss him just the same.

Mdailey	10/15/11


Details | Rhyme | |

EYE Don't See -Part 3-

My eyes
Witness your departure
My eyes
Are dripping with hopelessness…
My eyes start to blur…
Melancholy put me under pressure…
Is there a cure to my disease? 

You don’t see
The shards of hope that once brought us back together
Just let me search for safety
I’m strong enough to realize that I’m no longer
The weakest prey out there…

And I’m left in my solitude…
Do you hear me whimpering like a distraught puppy left on the train tracks?

I’m close to my demise…save me and take me home

Nourish me…and be my beloved friend

Will this friendship last forever?

Hopefully it has no end

Will this cheerful moment help us get along with each other?

Because of you…I feel the need to run 
I keep an eye on you – I worry that you’ll hurt yourself again
Because of you…My freedom is nearly gone
I don’t wanna be caught off guard again
Because of you…EYE can’t picture a solution for our vexing dilemma 
Because of you…eye can’t focus on my long-term goal 

And I’m left in my solitude…
Do you sense that I’m giving in to failure? 
And I’m close to my demise…
Only to find myself disappear…I can’t endure 
The hardships that you place upon me…
Could you boost up my confidence to overcome 
My atrocious anxiety? 

I’m just waiting for some sun
To keep me in good hands…
To strengthen me with perseverance …
I’m just waiting until His son
Leads the world outtah Egypt and reveals to us…
His radiance…His dazzling Kingdom – 
Vibrant with glee

Your undying sympathy dawns upon us
I’m overflowing with indescribable joy  
You’re a candle in the night…
We meet eye to eye…
What a sight…what a precious sight


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Daddy's Little Girl

Ballerina’d beauty…
She was always on beat and the most fluent mover. Never hesitant to step out onto her linoleum playground, Letting the stage lights beam down at her like sunshine, only refracting rays to intensify her lime light see she… was a dancer. &no I’m not talking about ya everyday tutu wearing mannequin. This one was special. The music was a part of her, she found a rhythm in every void and a tune in all speeches, it could only, flow thru her mind like water through the globe, more than she runs through my thoughts, like the way those greens slips of sustenance fell to the ground as she worked her pole. 
Tragic ending to the perfect fairytale. 
Mommy and Daddy had her dancing at six and in and out of auditions, wishing for her dreams to be realized unlike her own. Praying that her daughter could be somebody important, the next best thing since Broadway, better than Dejan Tubic, another Janelle Ginestra, but daddy had a sweet spot for his youngin. Wanting more for an innocent life and only turned her out of a fantasy. Pushing her on with the hopes only fools in the Ghetto would believe. Graduation day, she crashed hard, spinning back into reality. With no way to pay for her Julliard dream, a fistful of issues, and not a pot to piss in. She was strolling the block one night, and, heard music. Got sucked into the charisma of a strip joint. One second she was on the corner, everything goes black and when she comes to… she’s bare, with enough ones to get a place and put some food in her belly. That night she looked in the mirror… breaking down crying… all the dreams she had, crushed by the nimble fingers of fate. She doesn’t pity herself for long. Her mind’s already made up. “Gotta do this for me…” She rests, and the next day she finds herself back to the club to make more ones and satisfy more customers. It wasn’t the life she chose, but it’s one she’ll never regret, cause always had that sweet spot for her in el Corazon.. and she’ll always be, Daddy’s Little Girl.


Details | Free verse | |

The Lord's Peace

Peace
The chaos is shedding
Piece
Of happiness is floating
Cease
The madness..chaos is concealing
Peace
Comes from the Lord - 
To Him who mends us all...
To Him who forgives all of our sins
And downfalls
And answers everyone's calls


Details | Epic | |

Teen Pregnancy 4: The Cradle Robbers

Teen boys are always getting teen girls pregnant, but older men, impregnating underage girls? When will teen pregnancy stop? It seems that these underage girls have been seeing these men in their 20s or 30s behind the backs of their moms and/or dads. And the next thing everybody knows, one day later, those teen girls, they will have wounded up getting pregnant in an instant. No matter what the parents do to prevent their teen daughters from ever becoming mothers at an early age, let alone 15, no matter how hard they try, they just won't listen. And no matter what the moms and/or the dads will have done by showing their teen daughters the dangers of teen parenting, they still won't listen. These older men have always been messing around with the underage girls (ages 14, 15, 16, and/or 17) and are always getting getting them pregnant. What's so cold about it is that their parents will have been seriously upset about the fact that these grown men have robbed those teen girls of their innocence and their futures. And instead of teen girls going to college to become, teachers, lawyers, and/or doctors, because of these grown men, those teen girls will have been forced to have dropped out of high school to take care of their kids. See, there's a problem with those underage girls: they just can't concentrate on their education, thereby getting their high school diplomas and/or college degrees. The girls really should've waited until after they'd gotten married to guys their age and then have kids. And if these men in their 20s, 30s, or 40s weren't going to take care of their kids that the young mothers have given birth to because those sexist, womanizing Neanderthals who've gotten them pregnant to begin with, they should've used condoms and/or left those teen girls alone. As a matter fact, these grown men should've gotten arrested for impregnating teen girls by way of statutory rape. What's with these young teen girls, always falling for guys twice or three times their age, knowing they should date guys their age. Why must these grown men always wanting to get those underage girls pregnant at an early age, let along 15? I mean, who does that. It's just way, way, way too much for their parents (the moms and/or the dads) to handle. And if this type of teen pregnancy continues to expand by the year 2016 and these adult men continue to rob those teen girls of their futures, their so-called "childhood," and their innocence, their parents, they're doomed. This ends now!


Details | Epic | |

American dream

A father of five a husband to one
Family comes first second to none
I strive to be great at whatever I do
I am destine to leave good impressions on you
I have traveled a road bumpy at times
I got through my pain with a few snazzy lines
I have used paper as a counselor for quite a while
I have even masked pain with a slightly fake smile
Inside I feel as though I am misunderstood
I hate feeling bad I want to feel good
But I wake up every day with the same outlook on life
I have my 4 kids and a beautiful wife
She helps me remember why I am alive
My boys give me strength needed to get up and drive
Family has been my biggest accomplishment to date
When it comes to being there for them I am never late
Although at times I struggle to for reasons to live
I continue to look for ways I can give
I have recently met men who would kill to have what I do
I have recently learned there always someone in a worse place than you
I yet continue to struggle and plainly understand
How life becomes all about money and its demand
Without money there is no freedom even in the USA
But yet people jump the borders even as bad as it is today
Our economy holding no punches knocking many families out
Leaving even our government filled with doubt
So why keep striving why stand tall
My wife and kids, I won’t let them fall
I refuse to be a victim of stress and depression
I will keep fighting my way through this recession
Although they say it over it doesn’t appear that way to me
I want to believe the American dream is still possible for me


Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 8/Many

Patradoot or The Messenger 8/Many

English version by
Ravindra K Kapoor



Enchanting beauty of nature, 

Would unfold its charms, on your way,

When you would take my hearts message,

For the most lovely child of the creator, my beloved.

Ravindra

Kanpur  India. 15th May 2010                           to continue in 9


Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Background of this Epic 

The Patradoot was written originally by my later father
Dr.Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932. He had joined India’s
Freedom struggle in 1920 on the call of Mahatma Gandhi.
From 1920 till 1947 (India got freedom in 15th Aug. 1947)
my father was in active movement as Congressman and 
Gandhi’s non violent soldier. For many a time he was 
imprisoned for many months to more than a years sometimes.

During one such imprisonment he wrote this epic and sent
it to my mother secretly as a gift for her and to get it printed 
and circulated among the masses to create awareness for 
India’s freedom. The book was printed by my mother in 
Hindi and some of this epic was circulated also, but the 
British confiscated the book and press of my father around
1933. I was born in 1950 in a free India. I am trying to bring
this great writing of my father in English which portrays more
than the translation of the epic, so the world may
come to know about this otherwise lost and forgotten great 
great epic and the sacrifices of my patents towards India’s
freedom struggle.

Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor left active politics after 1947 
and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. Unfortunately many of his
World class work could not be published so far and Patradoot
is one of them.

Ravindra

Transliteration of Hindi poem in English- Patradoot or the Messenger.


Prakriti   Mugdha   Sunderta   ke, 

Mug   Mai   Nav   Drashaya   Suhayenge,

Le   Kur   Priya   Dhing   Hirdraya  Sandesha,   

Jub   Tu    Mera    Gayega. 


Patradoot in Hindi written by
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 







Details | Epic | |

My Father, My Hero

So many heroes, I have know
So many heroes’ names untold
The greatest still is kind
Loving and even smarter then he knows
He holds the love of so many
But no one loves him more then I
His oldest Daughter, Sarah Jho

So many lives have change for the words he wrote
Some find it hard to believe such beautiful words come from
A man who stutters so very bad
But make no mistake the most amazing poet of our day
Stutters as he tries to read the words he wrote

The greatest hero I have know has overcome so many pains
He battled drugs most of my life
Now years clean and he is back in my life
Hepatitis was the next test
But with no surprise as I knew he would
 He won that test
But saddened still nerves
Would die and he can labor no more and he feels a useless foal
But my hero do not worry for what God has in store

For a poet’s hands are meant to write
Hold a pen, and dance on paper
To create a piece of art
God has chosen a new path for my hero’s life



Details | Rhyme | |

title to come later

Who am I?
Oh where to begin,
I am never before,
And I am never again.

don't like to cause waves
But a hurricane I'll brew,
If thats what it takes,
To be rid of you.

When your tired of the kinfe,
Thats stuck inside your back,
You'll know the stiffness of a spine.
And when your sick of your heart break,
you'll know ribs as hard as mine.

when you know hwen to stand,
and your lefs become hard,
you'll know the time to fight
and your shoulders become broad

the arms become stiff,
and your ready to swing,
when you know to protect,
and you don't care about winning.

This is who I am.
And where I begin,
I am never before,
And I am never again.

And if you compare,
to this, you, I dare,
you mock my spark,
and i'll give you a flare.

Better run if your scared,
I'll kill every ryhme dumped,
And credit I don't share.

Made this way,
with a soul to play,
bet all i have
that i can show you the way

Cause this is who i am
i dont care where you began,
i am never before,
and i am never again

I am what i sing,
you wanna know who i am
will details i bring.

rejection ive known 
since the age of 2
it's true
and it ain't gonna hurt me
if you reject too.

callus with mallus
just what can you do?
love is  a fallacy,
don't exist for me,
just you.

So rub it in my face,
Like lotion sting my eyes,
and i'll be a swatter
to shoo you like flies

And if to the top i rise
a hand you wont get
drown if you want
but about you i won't fret

this song is who i am
and since it all began
I've been a never before
and i am a never again.

tell me you love me
see just what you get,
the question ain't do you like.
But can you handle it?

cause love aint what i get
when i look into your eye's
i see lies
just another devil with a clever disguise

can you see me?
Do you know what i am?
I'm a never before,
and a never again.

you won't find another me,
i'll find a million of you.
i'm lookin for someboddy
that i can see through.

see what youve done,
and just what you can do?
a subject of me is now
all about you.

but i wont lose myself again
give up what i am for you
done to many times before
so your gettin the boot
if i cant be me around you,
than your just another fly,
now shoo.

cause you can't take who i am,
theres even more of me from when it began
by now you better understand,
can you comprehend?
that i was never before,
and i am never again.


Details | Epic | |

Father's Day

Just like Mother's Day, Father's Day is also important to all of the fathers from America.
It's the time of the year for all the fathers and the sons/daughters to spend some quality
time together. All of the fathers can get almost anything they really want: new golf
clubs, a new watch, new designer suits, the works. Father's Day cards are also considered
as gifts, to say the least. Even if the grown children and their own children can't afford
all Father's Day presents, let alone a new watch, they can still ask their own children to
make some homemade Father's Day presents; priceless. The fathers, on Father's Day, can go
to country clubs for a game of golf while their sons/daughters and their own children are
at the dining room for brunch, especially when they're eating eggs Benedict. But the
problem is, this holiday is only on a different day in June. Father's Day comes around
once a year and it's been like that for years. But Father's Day isn't about the presents,
the brunch, or whatever; Father's Day is about spending time with our fathers and ewe
would never take them for granted. And without Father's Day, how are we going to help our
dads celebrate this holiday?


Details | Free verse | |

EYE Don't See -Part 4-

My heart is beating with upbeat delight 
You astound me…in every shape and form 
My spirit is dancing with unbreakable might
You surprise me…when you take my hand
And pull me outtah my jail-like dorm

And He dismisses me from my solitude…
My eyes are glistening with bliss… 
And I’m far from my demise… 
Only to find that there’s no need to feel helpless

Why do you spoil me rotten with your fatherly affection?

Just protect me from any harm 
Let me make my own decisions…
To see the results in the long run 

You prize me as if I’m cherished like your carefree child
You don’t understand – I’m TOO foolish and wild
I haven’t even reached to full maturity 
But how eye hope to see myself grow and be set free
From the world’s mayhem
Is there a solution to this problem?

And I’m left with no answer…
My eyes are eager to see…another bright day 
And the night is coming to haunt me… 
I find myself slowly disappearing from sight…
When will God give me a purpose to fight? 
When will He feed me His awesome might? 

Just support me…especially during my downfalls
Please answer my calls!

And I’m left to venture off into His path…

Eye can’t escape my terrible nightmares 
Consider my calls of acceptance…my grief weighs a ton
Let me pour forth my tears – 
Do me a favor and cast away my fears
Steer me away from disorder and confusion

Eye can see you’re making great progress
You’re heading towards a brighter, superb future…

My eyes 
No longer witness oblivion 
My eyes
Looks beyond the earthly pain…
bEyOnD the affliction 

I spot a rope in the distance. . . . . 

Push aside the waves…and let me
Grab it this instant!
God feeds me His love…and treats me
Like a newborn infant!

Eye see my Father with brand-new eyes  
I feel rare content
And I feel hardly any resentment

Eye 
cherish 
that 
REMARKABLE 
moment 


Details | Bio | |

Just Call I'll Come

I crossed the mighty water
When I heard you call my name

Found you waiting at a castle
Where the Red Dragon breathes it's flames

In the cold wind, rain and thunder
You came running to my arms
Screaming take me away forever
They can't buy me with their charms

As I held you tightly
I asked where that we should go
Take me home to Bridge Town
On our white charger Vivaro

So we crossed the mighty water
Far from dragons, wind and rain
To the love of all your own Kin
Where the children know your name


Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 2nd of Many

Patradoot or The Messenger  2/Many
Originally written in Hindi by my late 
father Dr. Amar Nath Kaporr around 1932


English version 

Being a prisoner I can bring my beloved,
In my mind through meditation only,
Due to separation from my beloved,  I can sing 
My expressions coming out from my heart,
Before you only, my dear letter.

Ravindra

Kanpur India  10th May 2010		to continue in 03/Many
Patradoot or The Messenger 5/Many

English version by
Ravindra K Kapoor

Background of this Epic 

The Patradoot was written originally by my late father
Dr.Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932. He had joined India’s
Freedom struggle in 1920 on the call of Mahatma Gandhi.
From 1920 till 1947 (India became free in 1947)
my father was in active movement as Congressman & 
Gandhi’s non-violent soldier. For many times he was 
imprisoned for many months and sometime, even for more 
than a year. He dedicated the entire writing work to his 
dear wife, my late mother, who was also a co-partner with 
him in the freedom struggle in creating mass awareness. 

During one such imprisonment at Faizabad jail, he wrote 
this epic and sent it to my mother secretly as a gift for her 
and to get it printed & circulated among the masses to 
create awareness for India’s freedom. The book was 
printed by my mother in Hindi and some of this epic were 
circulated also, but the British confiscated the book and the
press of my father around 1933. I was born in 1950 in a free 
India. I am trying to bring this great writing of my father in 
English which portrays more than the translation of the epic, 
so the world may come to know about this otherwise lost 
and forgotten great great writing and the sacrifices of my 
parents towards India’s freedom struggle.

Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor left active politics after 1947 
and devoted rest of his life in writing easy mass literature 
and wrote many Dramas, Poetry books, epics etc. All his 
other literary works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. Unfortunately many of his
World class works could not be published so far and Patradoot
is one of them.

Ravindra


Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Transliteration of Hindi poem in English- Patradoot or the Messenger.


Bundi Buna Huaa Mai Kewal,

Dhayan Magna Ho Ja Ta Hun,

Priya Viyog Ke Madhur Gan Ko,

Tere Sunmukh Gata Hun.

By Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
Freedom Fighter and writer, Poet & Dramatist
(1889-1994)
He mainly wrote all his other works between 1950 -1990








Details | Dramatic monologue | |

My Minds Eye, while looking thru a monacle

I need to find out what it all means,
so I searched for the truth in my dreams,
illusions of a shattered reality, unwoven at its seams.
All of life's cohesion, a plan or just by chance,
the gravity enabling this universal dance,
it all seems to run just like clockwork,
makes me wonder whether it might be Gods work?
So I looked through my minds eye, while I was wearing a monacle,
it really did make this world look..well, rather comical,
the distortions of vision were astronomical!
Atomic particles at a most basic level, I saw God, I fought the Devil!
The smallest atoms you can find, the Higgs Boson and strings that bind, 
I even watched as expansion hit rewind!
We're taking leaps out into space, huge accomplishment of the human race,
our solar system we've had a taste, further and deeper, how do you operate?
We'll one day finds Earth's new home, maybe under a giant dome,
or in a galactic ice cream cone? All the stardust that makes my bone.
Northern lights, just a jewel on my throne,
though science says 'it's just ozone'
have your ideas because their your own,
don't allow your mind to be overthrown,
things got hazy, or my mind got lazy,
so I took my rag and I buffed my lens,
it feels like I am bathing in pure cleanse!
Or i'm finally round the bend?
Will my head ever truly mend??
For when your balls knocked over the Wonderwall,
all kinds of delight, short or tall, await those who stumble across that garden,
you'll rub your eyes and pinch your skin, What? Hey? Pardon!
I have a sea view over all eternity, the 1000 you's, the countless me's
Life graces the universe, like a play well rehearsed,
starts with a nurse and ends in a hearse,
after the big rip, it's all in reverse!
©John-Ovan.P.Hull


Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 7/Many

Patradoot or The Messenger 7/Many

English version by
Ravindra K Kapoor



On your way,  you would witness and see,

Alluring scenes and sceneries all around the way,

Spreading their charms  to allure your mind,

They would keep fascinating your heart, on your way.


Ravindra


Kanpur India. 14th May 2010                           to continue in 7


Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

Background of this Epic 

The Patradoot was written originally by my late father
Dr.Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932. He had joined India’s
Freedom struggle in 1920 on the call of Mahatma Gandhi.
From 1920 till 1947 (India got freedom on 15th Aug. 1947)
my father was in active movement as Congressman and 
Gandhi’s non violent soldier. For many a time he was 
imprisoned for many months to more than a years sometimes.

During one such imprisonment he wrote this epic and sent
it to my mother secretly as a gift for her and to get it printed 
and circulated among the masses to create awareness for 
India’s freedom. The book was printed by my mother in 
Hindi and some of this epic was circulated also, but the 
British confiscated the book and press of my father around
1933. I was born in 1950 in a free India. I am trying to bring
this great writing of my father in English which portrays more
than the translation of the epic, so the world may
come to know about this otherwise lost and forgotten great 
great epic and the sacrifices of my patents towards India’s
freedom struggle.

Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor left active politics after 1947 
and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. Unfortunately many of his
World class work could not be published so far and Patradoot
is one of them.

Ravindra


  
  




Transliteration of Hindi poem in English- Patradoot or the Messenger.


Bhati  Bhati  Ke Drishya  Marg  Mai, 

Audbhut  Chata  Dhikhayege,

Nig  Anupam   Sobha   Se  Tera,   

Hardaya   Lubhate  Gayenge. 



Patradoot in Hindi written by
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 








Details | Ballad | |

Home Port Friends

In the Bay of Slaves the ships home port
The pirates lived in a wooden fort
Stealing and fighting was their sport
A modest abode for their knavish sort

Many children joined for class inside
Rules were kept for those to abide
Alexzanders eyes swept side to side
Behind the captain he tried to hide

“From now on you’re my son and this your home.
Other children are here, no more alone.
Your teacher is a professor from Rome.
So enjoy this land and make it your own.”


Details | Sonnet | |

The Foil

A weakness wound its wicked way inside
where thoughts of “us”, not love, do dwell and swell,
and formed a nest of twigs to stay the tide
yet cresting waves of righteousness rebelled.

“Stray not,” he said " for look on how I writhe."
Of fire formed made thane to only He.
Yet, man, of mud and clay did breach my pride
for Love of Thee, caste out the likes of me.

Now, Lucifer’s red flame so bright, burns night,
a warning scent to frailer souls, “Don’t fall.”
For even stars misstep, disgrace, pride’s plight,                                           
let his torment be your clarion call.

In light, act right, rise high in good spirit
and say “God, the devil made me do it.”



Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 3/Many

Patradoot or The Messenger 3/Many
Originally written in Hindi by my late 
father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor




English version by Ravindra K Kapoor


The moment you will hear,  the voice of my heart,

You will become pious, like the showering raindrops,

Taking shapes from my expressions, 

To shower the rains of Love,  on my beloved’s heated heart.


Ravindra

Kanpur India. 11th May 2010                           to continue in 4





Transliteration of Hindi poem in English- Patradoot or the Messenger.



Sunte Hi Sangeet Hradaya Ka,

Tu Pavitra Ho Jayega,

Udgaron Ka Rup Dharega,

Prem Virsti Burseyega.



By Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
Freedom Fighter and writer, Poet & Dramatist
(1889-1994)

Background of this Epic 

The Patradoot was written originally by my later father
Dr.Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932. He had joined India’s
Freedom struggle in 1920 on the call of Mahatma Gandhi.
From 1920 till 1947 (India got freedom in 15th Aug. 1947)
my father was in active movement as Congressman and 
Gandhi’s non violent soldier. For many a time he was 
imprisoned for many months to more than a years sometimes.

During one such imprisonment he wrote this epic and sent
it to my mother secretly as a gift for her and to get it printed 
and circulated among the masses to create awareness for 
India’s freedom. The book was printed by my mother in 
Hindi and some of this epic was circulated also, but the 
British confiscated the book and press of my father around
1933. I was born in 1950 in a free India. I am trying to bring
this great writing of my father in English which portrays more
than the translation of the epic, so the world may
come to know about this otherwise lost and forgotten great 
great epic and the sacrifices of my patents towards India’s
freedom struggle.

Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor left active politics after 1947 
and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. Unfortunately many of his
World class work could not be published so far and Patradoot
is one of them.

Ravindra


  
  










Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 5/Many

Patradoot or The Messenger 5/Many

English version by
Ravindra K Kapoor



If there wicked hands will ever catch you,

Your body will be mutilated in pieces,

And then, you would never be able to see,

My beloved to convey my message, dear letter.

Ravindra

Kanpur India. 13th May 2010                           to continue in 6



Background of this Epic 

The Patradoot was written originally by my late father
Dr.Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932. He had joined India’s
Freedom struggle in 1920 on the call of Mahatma Gandhi.
From 1920 till 1947 (India became free in 1947)
my father was in active movement as Congressman & 
Gandhi’s non-violent soldier. For many times he was 
imprisoned for many months and sometime, even for more 
than a year. He dedicated the entire writing work to his 
dear wife, my late mother, who was also a co-partner with 
him in the freedom struggle in creating mass awareness. 

During one such imprisonment at Faizabad jail, he wrote 
this epic and sent it to my mother secretly as a gift for her 
and to get it printed & circulated among the masses to 
create awareness for India’s freedom. The book was 
printed by my mother in Hindi and some of this epic were 
circulated also, but the British confiscated the book and the
press of my father around 1933. I was born in 1950 in a free 
India. I am trying to bring this great writing of my father in 
English which portrays more than the translation of the epic, 
so the world may come to know about this otherwise lost 
and forgotten great great writing and the sacrifices of my 
patents towards India’s freedom struggle.

Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor left active politics after 1947 
and devoted rest of his life in writing easy mass literature 
and wrote many Dramas, Poetry books, epics etc. All his 
other literary works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. Unfortunately many of his
World class works could not be published so far and Patradoot
is one of them.

Ravindra



Transliteration of Hindi poem in English- Patradoot or the Messenger.



Kutil   Kuron   Me  Pur   Kur   Unke,

Aunga  Bhunga  Ho  Jayega,

Purna Roop  Se Priya   Darshan  Ko,

Phir  Tu   Kabhi  Na  Payega.


Patradoot in Hindi written by
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 










Details | Epic | |

Hell To The Grave Part 2

A knife digs into my leg.
 I look down and see my leg turning the same colour as the other’s skin.
Rotting, putrid flesh, spreading its disease up my thigh.
Pain arcs across my chest, spilling into my neck. 
My hands, they’re becoming tentacles as well. 
I can feel my bones shattering, slicing through my skin.

A flash of pain, and I’m on my knees.
My head is splitting from the pain. I can’t even think.
What’s my name?
 Where am I?
 I hear a hoarse voice in the back of my mind.
Give in. Let go. Now.
Unfortunately I don’t have a choice. My mind, it feels crowded.
Something is in my mind. 
“GET IT OUT! GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD!” I scream, deafening myself.
A blood red is creeping across my vision, clouding my view.
More piercing pain, I can feel my back snapping. 
I topple over to my side. My body is convulsing uncontrollably.
Finally, the pain gets the best of me. I can’t take it any longer.
The pressure in my head, consuming my being. 
I attempt one last bravado. 
I cling to one memory. 
The memory of the girl. 
My daughter. 
But soon even she is corrupted. 
The voice, calling to me. Tempting me. Strangling my mind. 

Then, just before I black out, I hear her voice.
Come play with the me. Join us.
The sickly sweet, echoing charm of her morphs into a deep, throaty rumble.

Join me in the grave.
I am the Gravemind.


Details | Epic | |

Hell To The Grave Part 1

Hell freezes over. Fire into ice. 
Ice…but without the chill, the cold.
I try to rethink how this happened. 
How a world so green, so vibrant, become hell. 
And now a pale white wasteland.

Agony to relief. A relief that can’t possibly last. 
Impossibilities. A dream. Numbness.
As I emerge from my shelter, built to withstand dry heat, not cool precipitation.
I wonder at the beauty of this new and strange world.
The scorching I’ve received, now soothed by the cooler air.
Miniscule crystals, floating slowly to the earth, sticking to my hair. 
Like dust. Not cold.

I see others as well, marveling at this white world,
 revealing themselves to be inadequately clothed for this overnight change.
I hear a child’s laughter, excited screams as she experiences the cold for the first time.

I turn to watch, a smile on my face. 
There in the white, brash scarlet stains the pureness. 
The girl’s excitement turns to anguish.
She clutches her head, letting out a piercing cry.
Before my eyes, she transforms. 
Her arms, becoming broken and lengthy, ending in tentacles.
Her face, distorted beyond recognition.

More cries, bawling, hammering of fists.
All around me, those whom I’ve grown up with become unrecognizable.
Their skin becomes a sickly green beige, the colour of vomit.

Suddenly everything stops. Silence…






Details | Free verse | |

Patradoot or The Messenger 21/Many

Patradoot or The Messenger21 /Many 
  
English version by 
Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor


Some where you would see, Arti* being performed, dear letter,

At some place you would witness, milk being offered on Shivlinga,*

And some where you would hear, the melodies of a Chorus song,

Sung by girls having sweetness in voice, like that of a Koyal*.



DESCRIPTION OF MY BELOVED’S PLACE   ALLAHABAD


My lovely city of Allahabad is situated, dear letter,

On the bank of holy rivers Ganga and Yamuna,

Where sacrifices and ascetic practices is a way of life,

For which we all Indian feel proud of it since ages.


Ravindra

Kanpur India 12th June 2006                                 to continue in 21

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 



Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
has any question or queries, they can 
send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com



Background of this Epic 

The Patradoot was written originally by my later father
Dr.Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932. He had joined India’s
Freedom struggle in 1920 on the call of Mahatma Gandhi.
From 1920 till 1947 (India got freedom in 15th Aug. 1947)
my father was in active movement as Congressman and 
Gandhi’s non violent soldier. For many a time he was 
imprisoned for many months to more than a years sometimes.

During one such imprisonment he wrote this epic and sent
it to my mother secretly as a gift for her and to get it printed 
and circulated among the masses to create awareness for 
India’s freedom. The book was printed by my mother in 
Hindi and some of this epic was circulated also, but the 
British confiscated the book and press of my father around
1933. I was born in 1950 in a free India. I am trying to bring
this great writing of my father in English which portrays more
than the translation of the epic, so the world may
come to know about this otherwise lost and forgotten great 
great epic and the sacrifices of my parents towards India’s
freedom struggle.

Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor left active politics after 1947 
and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994. Unfortunately many of his
World class work could not be published so far and Patradoot
is one of them.

Ravindra
 
  

  
  





Details | Narrative | |

IMPERFECTION

TODAY I TOOK A LOOK INTO MY BROKEN MIRROR
IT REFLECTED BACK THE IMPERFECT ME
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PERFECT THAT THE IMPERFECTS DON’T WANT TO KNOW
CAN I AMEND THE BROKEN PIECES OF MY MIRROR?
I FORGOT TO PUT ON MY LIPSTICK ON MY WEEDING DAY, GOSH MY HUSBAND SAW THE IMPERFECT ME
THE CAPTAIN JUST TOLD THE CREW HE FORGOT TO BRING ALONG HIS COMPASS
THE IDEALIST STRIVE FOR PERFECTION FROM THE FATHER ABOVE BUT THE TRUE SON OF THE FATHER ONCE SAID “HE WHO WAS PERFECT WAS TO CAST THE FIRST STONE”
BECAUSE OF OUR STAINED SOULS, A UNIVERSAL DETERGENT WAS POURED ON EACH SOUL TO BRING PERFECTION DEFERRING THE LAWS OF AFFECTION
THE HEART OF MAN IS FULL OF CORRUPTION CONSTANTLY BLEEDING OUT CONTEMPT WITHOUT CLOTTING
BUT WE NEED TO FIGHT EAGERLY AGAINST EVERY UNCERTAINTIES WITHOUT HESITATING
NO MATTER HOW HARD WE FIGHT THESE UNCERTAINTIES EVERYONE WILL DIE TRYING
MY PERFECTION IS LIMITED BEFORE MY IMPERFECTION AND THAT MAKES ME PERFECTLY IMPERFECT SOUL



Details | Ballad | |

Awakening

In and out like that of a play
His wound now bore a mysterious clay
The Capitan’s voice made him stay
As he bowed now in silence to pray

As he awoke in the morn he slips
A water glass to his dry sweet lips
The witch doctor smiled and came to grips
To the startled son that time forgets

Smells of food ensnared his hunger
A bellow followed its sound was thunder
“Morning child! A hungry monger?”
The boy sat up his food placed under

Hot rolls, sliced ham, and sausage links
“A bath today, this boy now stinks!”
The captain agrees to what doc now thinks
To wash away the blood that leaks

His wound stung when the water struck
A model ship and a rubber duck
Shared the tub, the lads in luck
Red Beards love has finally struck


Details | Free verse | |

Why Do You Weep

Why do you weep oh gentle One?
Why do you cry out when alone?
Even more, why are you silent when you go out?
Do your troubles embarrass you and run others away?

Would it make others uncomfortable to hear what you say?
Would your plight run those away who do not seem to care?
Do you truly feel alone this and every day?
Do you fear what more, next will come your way?

Know I am here… Though we will never meet.
Know my troubles are also great.
Know I too, cry only when alone.
Know I am just like you, my friend.

I know that others soothing words do not take away the pain.
I know that talk of God does not make the problems go away.
I know this dreadful journey never seems to stop.
But I know you are not alone and can still talk to God.

Hope does not pay the bills or bring back those we lost.
Hope does not cure all ills or bring the dawn.
But sometimes Hope and God, is all we have when others fail…
And me of course, for you were never alone.

After you have sat there and silently wept…
Go forth into this day, knowing that in this world….
There are always others like you and me.  
Hope and God are there somewhere, too. No one is truly alone…

Take heart when you are done weeping and know: 
You are not alone: for I am also here with you.
We all have afflictions and problems, usually several at a time.
My greatest affliction is epilepsy among others that abound.
Remember life is an epic to be over come and  still:
I am here for you.


Details | Epic | |

The Family Of Saints, Chapter 2- poem

Chapter 2-The Fate of Saints

From the Blessed bloods of sacred follows,
With Misery painted fire wrapped fates,
Unripe wrongs that flourish over sacred laws
And unseen tragedies written on traits.

As Prayer filled carpets passed for ages,
Harsh tricks hid within them for ages,
Fallen prey was Reyhan's Raheem, to those,
Where family's prestige hung from his nose.

Lost by marriage, were two unwilling hearts,
And witness was a father redeeming and helpless
The Conspiracy that tore young hearts to parts,
Leading innocent dreaming souls hopeless.

Fate stole Raheem's wish for enduring love,
Turning his remnant self towards Spiritual love;
The Heartbreaking grieves, the known had written,
Leaving shadows of sick heart forgotten.

The celebrated tears shall for ever stay,
Masked behind the endless smiles,
For he was a part in the famous play,
That sent him wandering far of miles.

The writer's play had finished its part
But the master shall finish none his part,
For the traits follows the family of saints
And he was the saint born within constraints.

"Let him be the son,
Let him be the Life,
Let him bear the curse of wrong's done
And embrace destiny's knife.
Let the guilt of priests pray,
Forgiveness from the eternal best,
Let them hope a shining ray,
As a remedy for their shameful quest."

©Anees Rahman


Details | Light Poetry | |

Butterfly

She was just 8 years old
With freckles on her face
She was a little tom boy
Playing miles from the U.S base

Her name was parwana
 Means butterfly in afghan
She was like a little princess
Born in a cruel land

She was with other children
Just playing under the skies
But they look like terrorist
to a  robotic drone as it flies

So they all were killed
With bombs falling from the skies
Then Washington says on TV
It’s a mistake we apologize

We apologize for your lost?
How will that ease the pain?
Of the parents not seeing
Their little love ones again

Her mother cries oh god
Why don’t you kill me instead?
How can I live now? 
That my little butterfly is dead

These are our children
Not a horse or a cow
Go look your self in the mirror
Who are the terrorist now?

 The British prime minster
Says the terrorist will be beat
From his press conference
From NUMBER 10 Downing Street

The white house says
There will causalities of wars
While all the war mongers
Are safe behind their doors

Her father mourns her death
Till his cant live no more
So he drove a car with bombs
Thru the green zone door

There are good and evil
And we know what evil do
But when the good do the same
Then who is better than who

The lives of the innocent
Are being taken by both sides
And today there was a butterfly
Who will no longer flies?


Details | Epic | |

Teen Pregnancy 2: Teen Parenting

All teenagers will have become parents at an early age, including the age of 14, after
giving birth to their offspring. It will have affected the lives of teen moms and teen
dads and the lives of their parents. It seems that once they become parents at a young
age, there's no more hanging out with friends, no more going to parties, no more going to
the movies or the mall, no more of any of that stuff. It also seems that their parents'
futures have been altered due to the fact that they were going to become grandparents
early. Everybody also knows that all teen parents can't take care of their babies and go
to school at the same time; it's a total waste of time. All of their parents still don't
understand why all teenagers have to be parents (a teen mother and a teen father) at an
early age, including 13. This is starting to look like a bunch of episodes of "16 &
Pregnant" and "Teen Mom" on MTV.  Now that those teenagers are planning to become parents
at an early age, even in high school, they'll be forced to give up their dreams of going
to college, being doctors, being lawyers, or whatever; thereby dropping out of middle
school and/or high school. All of the parents should know that teen parenting is a total
waste of time and it's a heartache for all. No matter what the moms and the dads do, no
matter how hard they try to prevent their teen sons and teen daughters from ever being
parents at an early age, let alone 13 or 15, their futures will have been at stake. It
also seems that when the backs of all parents are turned, those teens start to have
unprotected sex and the next thing everybody knows, those teen boys will have gotten those
teen girls pregnant three (3) days later by those teen boys, and their parents will have
been outraged. There's no way that these teens are going to be parents at an early age,
let alone 16. They need to concentrate on their education and getting their high school
diplomas and/or college degrees. And those teen couples, they should've used condoms and
they should've waited until after they've gotten married. Teen parenting is starting to
make all of their parents sick. It breaks their hearts just thinking about it. All parents
really need to get involved in the lives of their teen sons and teen daughters and prevent
them from being parents at an early age. All teenagers are not to have children until
after their education is finished and their married. Teen pregnancy and teen parenting
must end right now.


Details | Verse | |

Point of view

I,my eye,saw a good man doing some thing evil,
out of love...
i saw a "big bad man" give food to his family..
selling drugs...selling drugs
and when he got arrested all his daughter really wanted
was to give a hug...give a hug
"mr.goodguy" bought a gun and started acting like a thug...kinda like a thug
*sirens*
dang...bang,bang
a rookie cop noticed they were both the same "maine",man...
put his mug shot all in the news,and the networks...
got 25 views...
the judge said "who is this young man to you?"
his daughter screamed out "let me go,thats my daddy"
"rookie cop" mumbled,"bastered..almost had me"
they threw the book at him while he took "the time",sadly 

amen??


Details | Rhyme | |

WYME 1

my destiny I have to resume
my purpose or so I presume
all doubt I have to exhume
responsibility I have to assume
its really never too late
or maybe it’s just fate
only God gives a clean slate
even when we have lots on our plate
people so particular about dates
all this time they use to hate
showing no pity even to sister kate
with perdition as their right-hand mate
I dream of a season
When I’ll finally see reason
The cause and need for all this treason
In a world where all trust is dead
Judgement day lies in wait like a bed
Unto lies we are lead
Into the abyss of uncertainty we’re spread
Sometimes I think I need a breather
I just can’t take it
Hook, line and sinker
There is so much at  stake
See how they tinker
Or dignity they finger
Our death-beds they make
Their lies flow forth like a lake
While in suffering we sleep and wake
It’s time we opened our mouth to talk
And oh, they’re gonna hear it all in bulk
My words are gonna hit them like the hulk
I’m so tired of sitting to sulk
In any event that I lose my life
At last I’ll escape for all this strife.


Details | I do not know? | |

THESE STATES UNITED - PART II

How someone like you 
 
and me
 
could ever be
 
this forever free

Never say never

Ever
 
Oh say, can you see
 
this valiant righteous fight
 
of the tiny 13
 
against the giant gorgeous gallant might
 
of the Royal Crown
 

into that last gleaming
 
fluorescent
 
effortlessly seeming
 
twilight 
 
as American soldiers fell
 
and died
 
and their women 

and Lady Liberty

rang the bell
 
and cried
 
screaming
 
and the little ones 
 
so sound asleep
 
nestled in their bed
 
so peacefully dreaming
 
whilst their King 

while their King lay dead
 

Hear his deep voice echo over and over in your head
 
You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said

You remember what he said

You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said
 
You remember what he said

You remember what he said

You remember what he said

You remember what he said
 
as you lay there
 
missing and yearning
 
teaching and learning
 
freezing and burning
 
and tossing and turning
 
battledrums slow and become tribal
 
Yes, you too, remembers what he said:
 
"It is impossible to rightly govern a nation without God and the Bible"


 
So trumpeters blew and told 

their story
 
the drumboys rolled
 
out Old Glory
 
My God behold
 
Watch Old Glory
 
so dignified
 
unfold
 
Stars and Stripes 
 
thus signified

an Independence newfound
 

on Sacred, Sacred, Splendid, Sacred, Holy ground
 
Kneeling at ground Zero
 
Never forget
 
My, your, Our forgotten Hero

Ole' Father George pause and take a good look around
 
Ole' Father George steal the stars 
 
just this once

just in between
 
the glare of royal red rockets
 
and hand them to
 
the mighty 13
 
and the red stripes so soaked with blood
 
from our beloved Mother
 
across the pond

Sons no more, oh no, Mother 
 
There isn't any other
 

It’s me now - your new younger brother

Just passing through

the bright white rays of sunlight
 
into the big bold box of navy blue
 
into starry starry nights
 
Ole' Father George, our hopes ignited
 
Your legs so weary
 
Our dreams excited
 
Thank you, Ole' Father George
 
Thank you, God
 
God Bless These States United




Details | Alliteration | |

The Prime Directive Quiz ( P D Q ) or Prolix Drama Queen Part Three of Three

‘Cause, Priests and Prophets Must Pray for The Reign…
and for Pre and Post-Op-Apocalyptic–Novocain ! …

Yet… It Doesn’t Matter, What Distress to You
 On the Planet, however Polluted or Profane
It Doesn’t Matter, What Distress to You
 Wherever the Delusional -Dimensional Plane
It Doesn’t Matter, What Distress to You
Or Danger-Plot, Prison-Door or Deepest Pain
Or Present-Defeat, or Darkest-Hours-View
even Thru Dying-Breath, Devout Prayers Proclaim
to Be Delivered- New, True, and Pulled-Thru
to Claim The Prize of Life-Perpetually-Sustained

… For Particularly, By God’s Unpronounceable Power
Thru His Son’s Unparallel- Principal-Purchase… Dower
God’s Dependents and Dreamers Will Prosper-Gain
The Prophecy,  The Promise,  The Paradise-Preordained 
The Perfect-Future  and  The Victory-Parade

… The Distant, Destiny of Eden – Never Been Doused Nor Degrade 

Then… It Won’t Matter…So, Please Dismiss The Paltry-Strain
The Days of The Deformity and Damage-Train
Will Be In The Past … Departed-Detained
Disaster and Disloyal Will Lay In A Destroyed-Plain
Damned For All Of Time –Proliferate-Blamed
A Suppository-Prophylactic-Puddle-Shame
 Patience-Persevering…Demands Punishment - Prediction-Sang… 
… Final-Draft …Stop-The-Presses!... Poll-Loudly-Refrains

When You Really Discern and Pragmatically-Attain
The Divine God and His Son’s King- Domain
Publicize Their Progenitor and Predominant Names
and Preach and Deify Like-Doting-Platoon-Swains,
 with Pedestal-Passion and ‘Plum-Plumb’, Persistence-Ingrained 

For On Position-Comparison, We   ‘All’   Pale-to- A-Feigned …
…Puppets and Peons and Dim-Witted-Parasitic-Great Danes
and Dopamine Defective, Demerol Addicted – Darwin-Poisoned-Sprains
Disoriented-Drivel, Droll-Drooling-Inane
or Just-Plain ol’ Dire-Derelicts-Insane
  
(and now… I have a P D Q,… for Me and You… Migraine)
Oh… May They Accept This Poor-Placard-Crane

                    Amen… Again… Amen


Details | Ballad | |

Veterans Honored Everywhere

My daddy served till I was six.
A Navy man.  He loved his ship.

Rejecting Hero he would proclaim.
"Those who died should have that name."

Sailed many times across the waves.
Rescuing prisoners from cells as graves.

A Coxman warning of things to come.
That sound still echos to setting sun.

Blow the whistle as bugals blare!
Today Veterans shall be honored everywhere.

             MAFLongfellow


Details | Epic | |

The Family Of Saints, Chapter 1- poem

 Chapter 1-The Sinful soul of Reyhan

From the memories of sacred wrongs,
From the spiritually admired best,
Came the soul of heart's dreadful songs
That smiled with ugly triumph of debt.

The phantom hunted Reyhan's saints
Pointing his ashes among god's saints
But the endless ego taught him the don'ts
That left him wandering without true bonds.

For Every moment he ever saw himself,
For every thought that burned his head,
He begged graceful forgiveness for his self
To bring the rest of his sleep to his bed.

Fate of those without a fatherly father!
For there were laws that make him a father
Of which he rejected all, even under force
The rules that compels to abide with those.

For all those said are to meet the meant;
So came the day as a beauty in shame
To meet his son the Sheik had sent
While afraid he was of anything like same.

But known to him till now as an unknown,
Even though he was the best of known,
There Stood in front in the name of his son,
A flesh that grew to a body, a ton.

"Hail this helpless father, Hail the days ago
Hail the one who brought him here
Hail his prideful ego
Let the earth spin with turn
And make the dreadful old page,
There he shall go back and return
With his sons and wife to this age."

And Reyhan spoke silently -
"O, you are him."


Details | Epic | |

6/30/06

As I sit on the kitchen counter, I 
eat my cereal. Savoring every crunch
I watch the phone and wait for it to ring
waiting for someone to call, even a perfect
stranger. Even a perfect stranger. Trust someone
to talk to. Someone to share what's going wrong. My
heart beats with pain. The blood runs cold but hot with 
anger. I wish to scream at the top of my lungs and release 
the agony, But must stay quite as a mouse. I keep to myself.
My hopes that are false and my dreams that will never come true.
I'm lost in my own mind and train of thoughts filled with worries that
can never be told and cries that can never be heard. Smiles are shown
but never true. Every promise is made is another broken wish. Every word
you say is nothing but stalling pain. Sadness is the most feeling felt. It wears
like a sweater on a hot summer day. You just want to rip it off and throw it on 
the ground. I must question everything more now than ever. I sit in a white chair
in a white room. I love this room. It reminds me of purity, a free soul. Anything you
dream can come true. If you dream hard enough and wish upon the right star. I walk
around the rest of this seven room house and I am reminded back to reality of cries and
lies, the tears and the fears. Back into a world of having to win. When smiles are rare to see
and I love yous are no longer from the heart. Gazing out the window, I have come to known 
that this world is made up of men who want sex and money, women that dance in videos to 
make a dime. Young boys hustling and ladies walking the corners. Church crowds have gotten 
smaller and cults have grown. I look back in the mirror reflect. Recently I've made bad 
decisions that just aren't me. I remise about the past and realize that it's time to let 
go. That it's my path and I'm on my own. A struggle it will be, but a blade where
I can not depend. Sorry to my sharp little friend but I hope we never have to
meet again


Details | Free verse | |

God Is In Me

I come to the realization that I am merely man everything I have fought for was conquered by my own hand Each one of my poems were a time he wasn't there I keep looking to the heavens but all I see is air For now I see that God is in me existing vicariously through my mind sometimes it seems I lose him for it's me he's trying to find I once strived to be just like him there is no wrong in that I believed in myself enough to surpass him and put the whole world on my back Embedded in my memory the fact only I can hold me down for I have crawled into the darkness where my inner-self was found There I could see my failure it left a bitter sting I could see no evil for the Devil is not in me Now that I have achieved my Godhead there is no more setting sun only an army of watching angels weeping for lost souls by the thousand Every time I have been tested my fear is seldom seen if you are seeking God he is on the path far behind me.


Details | Ballad | |

A Travelers Tale

It’s been so long
Since I’ve been home
Many a year
I’ve been on the roam
As the years turned to days
Days turned to years
Time is an hourglass
Showing ones deepest fears
As I sit here
In this barroom 
Smoking a cigarette
Leave I must soon
Following that, I must check out
Of the mediocre hotel room
Though my mind clearly sees
Visions of joy from the past
This hotel bill
Will surely by the last
Always ladies
Night keep me warm
Even through the most
Furious storms
Make my way
Home once at last
Not yet young son
This old man’s not done
Please don’t leave this bar
For this story hasn’t ended
Oh no thus far
All my life I have desired
Some sort of reckoning
For my sins
Now I’ve finally realized
I must go see my kin
And a new life I may
Finally begin
But son please listen
Realize you shall
As you grow old
Happiness not be bought
With any amount of gold
Happiness lies
Within your very heart
You alone
Hopefully shall start
Having your very own dreams
Even though they may seem
Unachievable, son
 You’ve just got to believe
For without dreams of your own
You shall bitterly become
Full of hatred and greed
Dreams are not money
They are actions you make
Dreams do not happen
When you are asleep
They come to you
When you’re beginning on your feet
But you must be careful
For come people are amused by
Actions of deceit
For one who uses trickery
Are not as lucky as you
They are to ashamed of themselves
And their life is hell
They are weak
You are strong
Envy they of you
And in society they just don’t belong
Don’t think I have sided
With the pitiful and weak
On their behalf
I only speak
Oh, son, I have seen
More than any old king
I’m even friends
With Mr. BB king
But never have I
Been so satisfied
Than when I told this story
And you looked me in the eye
Not many have been
All the places I’ve seen
This all was my very
Very first dream
I must be going now
But before I do
Bartender, 2 shots of José
We must make a mighty salute
For on your future young son
We must drink


Details | Lyric | |

never forget 9-11

On that day we were all the same, we didn't know there faces, we didn't know 
there names.
There voices we heard crying all around the world, someones loving father, 
someones little girl.
On that day we were called to lead a better life, for that someones father, for that 
someones wife.
The list of souls read from above before it came below why it was and why it is the 
answer no one knows.
Through the pain we have learned lessons great and small, life, love, and happiness 
are precious cherish them all.
With grace we all go on, but never will we forget that all of these beautiful things 
can fade so very quick.
On that day we wondered, on that day we cryed, on that day we asked ourselves 
what kind of man am I?
Mothers held there children for so long and oh so tight, why did these people have 
to go this was not there fight.
We hope and pray for all those names, and the ones they left behind they gave 
their life for a question the answer we must find.

William J. Harty


Details | Free verse | |

Bondage

Empowerment
Inticement
Power
Promotion
Selfishness

Greed for more Michael Douglass in tow
Control
Warhol
Acid
Mitigation

Solitude
Alone
Shady
Pilgrims on the highway out of control

Wasted
Bondage
Societal influx
Caged fury in delusion

Bondage
An adaptation toward self alone
Control
Loose Cannons

Minds controlled by destruction marked on its blotted page intact
Evil empire
Dwarfed in decision making
Out of control

Bondage
Savage beasts brute in desire for more?
No soul,
Divination

Welcome to America!

Nobama
Reckless warriors in soldiers fragmentation
Nazi
Shaded Soprano

Branded eyes with skulls fractured among us
The garden of Eden in exchange for death
Loose cannons approaching the river Nile
Hypocrisy!

Smokescreen for the captitalists agenda!


Details | Epic | |

THE INNER VOICE OF MARK BIRROS II (Excerpt)

 

THE INNER VOICE OF MARK BIRROS  II



From world war two in the Atlantic
I hear the drowning cries of men,
climbing out as in spirit from waters
that lap the steps of the harbour wall ;
time erodes as the sea -
washing up these thoughts that linger
here and on many beaches,
thoughts that stick and have the stench
of  used oil around them,
the name on a memorial
does not reflect the horror ;
the surf rejects such cogitation ;
for a moment, ' try again ' 
the gulls seemed to say,
' let go ' said the movement of the ocean,
but I cannot, I simply cannot
for what transcends these waves
and breathes out the universe
is love, the love of a father....   ...   ...
 

The old clock ticks away the day
that haemorrhages the evening,
and like a night- nurse at the bed                                         
as growing lesions slowly spread,
the crescent moon would nothing say
to see the patient pass away ;
the stars call out but they are late -
what metaphysics spring from that
while in my soul eternity
is smiling like the Cheshire cat !...
A presence haunts me as that touch -
that hugs the heels in failing light,
with eyes  that peer through space and time
and follow me into the night....   ...


The pine wood has its secrets -
I am one of them now,
like the columns of an ancient temple,
straight and upright
where no priest intercedes -
I trust it with my life,
I am theirs and they are mine,
growing inside me, sturdily and strong,
transcending their roots with my secrets
to their archetypal heaven...   ...   ...


As if a change of consciousness was meant,
against the pull of ego, the body
inwardly swept up in spiral ascent,
spirited away from me
from all the world below,
from all that I would ever be
that anyone might know ;
raised  the cloaked arm
of my archetype
to draw the void across my eyes,
and I did rise to heights of bliss
to see  the world from this -
dancing in vortices, tiptoeing on pools 
as through a mesh, devoid of flesh ;
our world is an illusion -
a carousel to light,
as in the midst of heaven
we ghost on through the night...   ...


Details | Rhyme | |

Aborted Babies


Aborted Babies…

Innocent life is being murdered each day.
While our courts say that it’s legal and “o.k.”

Women getting pregnant and maybe don’t understand.
The tragedy that’s happening all over this land!

Is this really something that many people have willed?
To have the unborn to be 
“torn apart and killed?”

Many are told abortion is the “best thing to do.”
But not knowing who else to turn to.

Government pretends to have an answer for this.
But it’s just turning into one huge mess!

Read the Bible and you will come to know.
The God who created you… 
Loves you so!

Jesus knew you in the womb!  
Your hair color and name!
He saw your body when out of your
 mother you came!

He saw your little heart the first time it beat!
And saw your mother the first time
 she tickled your feet!

There is never one unwanted person on God’s list!
You are precious to him…  
And are never missed!

He knows each life and every heart that’s beating!
And brings purpose, love and
 a TRUE meaning!

BY Jim Pemberton


Details | Rhyme | |

What If Christmas Nveer Happened

What If…   Christmas Never Happened???

What if Christmas never happened?  
What if Christmas never came?
Things around here would be different! 
It wouldn’t be the same!

What if the baby Jesus was never born in a manger?
Mankind would be in serious trouble. We’d all be in danger!

If the baby Jesus wasn’t born.  There would be no nativity.
We wouldn’t be able to display this during our “festivity.”

It’s almost like this now! 
 It’s an “ever increasing business.”
It seems like nearly everyone wants
  “Christ out of Christmas!”

Why does it seem like Christmas is 
 losing it’s true meaning?
The very words; “Merry Christmas,” 
seem to be quickly disappearing!

Many say; “Happy Holiday.”  
They worry they may “offend.”
Having a “holiday” without Christ….  
Once again!

We need to put Jesus Christ back into 
our CHRISTmas season!
He is what Christmas is about!  HE is the very reason!

May we all take some time to rejoice in our savior’s birth.
May there be shouts of JOY!  From the corners of the earth!

Let’s not take Christ out of our joyous celebration!
We need him so much right now! 
 All over this great nation!

May we bring to him a heart of love
 for everything he’s done.
As we bring honor to Christ.  God’s precious son!

May we continually offer to him a heart filled with praise!
Not only at Christmas time…  But all of our days!

By Jim Pemberton


Details | I do not know? | |

Vision

Sitting here, in a room with no light
Everything seems
Increasingly bright
And the sound seems louder
Than it normally should be
As I play 
With my excessively growing goatee

It seems like a habit
Having my mornings this way
Yet for fun there is a price
Everyone must pay

Only one question dwells
In the mind of thy own
The answer still remains
To be unknown

Somewhere in the distance
Unreachable by any means
Sits a tall beaming
United States Marine
 


Details | Narrative | |

We Were All There That Day

All of us were there that day/
Yet not in the physical aspect,
It was a very spiritual notion/
Not some encounter from a heavenly omen,
Beneath the soil amidst a great gulf fix,
Some have become a bit transparent/

Perhaps a little cumbersome ?

While other's having claimed to experience all the fullness,
Little did they know that king's and queen's would all bow to thee,
Amidst the given turmoil of the unfortunate vast excursion !
Still in the garden that day they all fell asleep/
Yet still all of us were there,
When the roman solder's ripped off your beard !

Still some of us it's too hard to fathom it,
Some finding it to intense and a bit weird !
Having common passerby's spit in his face/
While still there were many angels in waiting to take vengeance on those,
Yet Jesus didn't choose that route of passage,

With no sense of remorse nor a common disgrace,

We were all their that day !
Even when beloved Mary your loving mother wept !
Fashioned with real tears for her son,
While they tore into his flesh !
Until there was nothing left but exposed bone,
When all the nails had mounted you to the rugged cross/
We all knew that this wasn't some tragic loss !

With words', "Father please forgive them for they know not what they do ?"
He said the prayer now the rest is up to you ?
We all had learned Lord what your beloved father really knew/
We were all there that day/
When after three days you suddenly rose from the grave !
Although still many had rejected you ?

The god of this world had blinded many eyes/
Does all of this come at some big surprise for it is written in the scriptures for our benefit ?
Lest they all should see and be healed,
For even Pilate had found no fault in thee,
Yet he gave into the crowds cry's and demands !
Having vicious fangs nor swollen teeth/
Which all gnash abruptly !

Having a fish dinner with Peter for breakfast/
The was fully after your grand exit,
We were all there that day/
Henceforth, even to this present moment in time,
Today, everything we pray for we can all visualize you being there,

For we were all their that day !


Details | Rhyme | |

Are You God ophobic

Are You God-ophobic? I’ve heard of phobias of different kinds. I’m sure there’s many people with “confused” minds. But there’s one “phobia” that concerns me the most. It’s a “God phobia” that’s drawing so close. It’s like people have a phobia of “In God we trust.” While so many of their lives are burdened with lust. A lust for pleasure and whatever “pleases for the moment.” Many are looking for various kinds of “fulfillment.” But fearing and obeying God? This sounds absurd! Why should anyone care? Much less… Read his word? Even prayer seems to be “a thing of the past.” How much longer will this country last? What we should fear… Is the wrath of God that will come… For not believing and accepting Jesus… His son! Everything we’ll ever need. Has already been provided! An abundant life with Christ can now be decided! Won’t you accept his gift of life everlasting? And look beyond human reasoning and understanding? Put your faith in God. And HIM alone! So you too, can have a place in his eternal home! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Prose Poetry | |

My Pa







Had a dream about my Pa tonight, We all went out with them to Lake Loral Nancy His wife cooking up a good ol' Chicken Pot Stew slow-cooked set way up high atop the hickory us loading up the Bayliner for our afternoon fishing trip. We reminisced, Canoe in toe as we used to do just in case, yes just as we did back then; you-know if either would wished to float to one or more sides with the Canoe tied to the railings of the boat, or more or less to widen the chance at a greater spot to cast a gander upon our luck... . My Father by adoption; having-stated many times early on in-all of our teenier all together, God being-in-charge of all good-Blessings and if-you will--luck... we'll always catch some albeit one Yes I began to see through this statement he mentioned often God is always presenting always providing this-His Honest Hope, for us both--as I believe like my Pa, for any one yes everyone who is patient remains-open... ! Our woes, and Peace abiding... uncertainty grievances questions yes laughter were our main recollections as we dropped our first lines as we cast them... . I tell you I truly did love Him, still love Him, will always I figure... yes I know Some folk are so defined never wish to grow any further their Character divorced by Cancer, Nary did my Father allow it. On the day he passed He told Nancy, "I love my life. My Family Children. Love all those close to me.... but I'm tiered just plain wore out." the Lord took Him that night, the next day forthcoming I was told and O how I cried — But then realized as I saw he lived the greater life - He worked on this purpose until the day he died, and so for all he work for this final reprieve — it was for all of the ones he loved, because I feel for all whom he loved, he'd prayed for all to do the same... Yes a suffering in kind the same I'm seeing now - All-of-it I'm-finding; because he taught me the greater of his Faith nary a day apart from Him, and me... his youngest Son two Others older Sons if you will, yes I feel his family and friends still have this eminent belief to boast; Yes, in-the Company--Comfort... of Jesus' Peace... !


Details | Free verse | |

Dreams' depth

Dream depth

Dreams are the Leatherback tortoises
lazing across the Caribbean’s;
the blue water and columns of sun.
dreams have seen the ruins, 
the pieces of lost cities, Atlantis; buried.
Dreams have touched the fossilized white bones 
of a father, a fisherman, who sunk.

The boy wakes up, runs on bare feet 
towards the shore where his dreams are.

=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar 


Details | Epic | |

Product of your enviroment

A father who constantly moans at you and puts you down all the time.
An absent mother living with her lover see's you on the weekends.

You listen to him putting her down
you listen to her with her new found

Older sister mentally ill, father moaning about the bills
Anxiety and fear a broken family

From one home to the next feeling constantly preplexed

You listen to him putting her down
you listen to her with her new found

Grades are crap at school holding it all in like a fool
Did either one ask ''how are you'' or ''how does this make you feel''?

The anger sets in where do I begin It will never leave me
it stays with you till the end.

Your always to scared to express how you felt and what its done to your head
cant get to sleep cause your minds full of crap feeling like your gonnna snap

Its now to late for me to forget but I wont allow it to damage me no more I want to close that door.


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Is it that hard

Is it that hard?
I tried, I was civil, 
Even pleasant;
I asked about your stupid jeep
When I knew all about it,
I answered your few questions
Very nicely and thoroughly;
 You asked about my interview,
I told you,
Later you mocked me,
Why cant I say
Or do
Anything right in your eyes?
I admitted my wrongs,
My failures,
But when I asked you
Outright
You denied
Wouldnt give a straight answer
I shouldve known;
I listened to it 
My 18 years and one day at home;
I expected it
I was told it would happen
But still I had hope
That maybe you would soften
Maybe you would give a little
But no,
You couldnt even do that
You couldnt admit you are
WRONG
You are cruel
You are twisted
You are so messed up
You are pushing your family away
And you must know it;
Its so obvious
But you cant
Or wont see it.
I dont know what to do;
I try,
I call,
I meet you
And accomplish NOTHING.
I dont want to have to do this
Im so tired of it
My own mother is terrified of you
My little brothers
And my beautiful sisters
Are scared 
To do anything 
You dont approve of;
Youre killing them slowly
Like you did me,
Thats why I left;
Thats why I ran;
I couldnt take it;
They will leave too;
You will be alone,
With no one to control,
No one to abuse,
No one to tell your rules to,
No one to manipulate
No one to listen to you,
Your lies,
Your critisism,
Your bullshit;
Im done; 
If you want to change,
If you will admit to being wrong,
If you will attempt,
Im willing
And ready to see you,
Im ready to see my family again,
But not you;
You are an ogre,
Youve said it yourself.
(Sarcasticaly of course)
Im waiting for you;
Is it that hard?


Details | Rhyme | |

Here's The GOOD News

Here's The GOOD NEWS! I get so tired of hearing about “the latest scandal…” It makes me wonder; “how much can this world handle?” It seems like each day, on the news, it speaks of “another killing…” Are these types of things really a part of “living?” There must be more to life than what we hear on the news… More to life than a cigarette or a bottle of booze… There’s a simple message for us that must be heard… The secret to true living you can find reading God’s word! It reads; “all have sinned and fallen short of God’s glory…” But wait! This isn’t the end of the story! His word also speaks of God’s redeeming grace… This can be found anywhere. And any place… His grace can be found through Christ’ atonement… His love can make you a new person… This very moment! His word also says; “where there was sin… Grace did much more abound!” A brand new life in Christ. Today… Can be found! This GOOD NEWS can transform you by the power of the cross! This is what this world needs… That is dying and lost! Spending time with Jesus is always time well spent! May tomorrow’s news read; “Another sinner has chosen to repent!” By Jim Pemberton


Details | Rhyme | |

preservation

This is my depressing dedication
to the lustful salvation 
of a father that drownd
in his own sick fantasy
the death to a daughters
innocents and child-like mind
this poem is for a father like mine

This is about his devotion
and lack of education
That confuion made
this is the story the thoughts 
my childhood memories

How a family 
could be torn apart 
from little or no faith
lack of trust and epic humor
happiness was never found

All hope left 
on a world filled with
imagination
no time left 
for an inspirational
mystery for the life of misery

here a peice of passion
to peace of mind how could people
be so blind
I never asked for sympathy
nor did I beg for war
this was just the visionary truth
that made life sore


Details | Free verse | |

Fishing Worms For My Father

I think I'll go dig up a bucket of worms for the day 
I'll go out back where me and the dog play 

After I am done, 
I will put the worms out of the sun 

And I'll talk to my dad 
To see if any fishing could be had 

For supper we can have fish on our plate


Details | Epic | |

Runaway Bunny

There once was a runaway bunny who journeyed high and low,
Hid in murky caves and dark caverns, she was always on the go,
Her father searched constantly and followed in his divine gear,
No matter where this bunny fled to he always somehow did appear,
The thought of yielding and surrendering was difficult for her to convey,
The father watched intently as his bunny slipped away,
But one night came that this bunny had fallen completely down,
So hard that she had shattered every bone and was all alone on earths cold ground,
While she screamed in sheer horror as the pain echoed throughout space,
She was suddenly scooped up with warmth, love and amazing grace,
Though she thought that she had run too far and for way too long,
And certainly did not deserve to be rescued for all her actions were wrong
That didn’t stop this bunny’s father from salvaging his little hare,
She did not realize wherever she ran he would always be there,
That was the night she had learned something that her travels had never taught,
True love is a treasure that can never be sold or bought,
This bunny decided that she would no longer run,
For she was tired, broken and could not continue on,
One taste of Agape love,
Turned this little bunny into a magnificent dove.

BY; Sabina Nicole


By: Sabina Nicole


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

THE PAIN BEFORE THE PRAISE

we all like to do things that make us feel good
we all like to do things that we feel we should
we don't want that feel good sensation to come to an end
even if it winds up costing us the loss of family, jobs or friends

but everything that feels good is not acceptable to Christ
as somethings that make you feel good may cause some struggle or strife
but feeling good is not the only reason that God gave us life
He wants us to feel good but not at a sacrifice
for the sacrifice was already given at Calvary on the cross
when Jesus gave His life so that ours would not be lost

for there is no pain without some praise
no glory without some gloom
no Easter without Good Friday
and no resurrection without the Tomb

in life there will be some rain, there will be some dark days
remember while on the cross Jesus to His Father He did say
My God, My God why hath thou forsaken Me?
what have I ever done to merit this misery?

when we find ourselves in situations and feel that from us God has strayed
we get angry, frustrated and discouraged and don't even bother to pray
we then call on Father God and have the nerve to ask him why
has He allowed us to go through stuff that makes us break down and cry

yes, there will be some pain that comes before praise
for after the hurt comes the healing when the hands of God are raised
God said His grace is sufficient for when we're weak He'll be strong
God said that when we trust in Him we will never go wrong

so journey down that dark highway of life towards your salvatiion
God said He'll be the light at the end of your final destination
so only do things that feel good but are also pleasing to God
and no matter what you go through keep Him always in your heart


Details | Narrative | |

THE MISSING -- FATHER'S SON

Joseph-----born in October 1994—to your Mother and her family.
When I collided with your Mother—in 1993—all she was-
absence for------was you!
All she would declare is---She needed a child to complete her- 
A Son or Daughter ----that did not matter to her!

If this echo is all too familiar--- I assure you--- it is NOT!
You see --my dearest Joseph --you are THE MISSING -- FATHER’S SON.
You have only known one view of this great epic —But--- today—you 
will hear of THE MISSING -- FATHER’S SON.
Forced by your Mother and her family to NEVER--- have communion 
with you!

Given your Mother’s madden name at birth--- you lived in her- 
universe.
Unable to communicate with the out-side world--- forced to never-
have communion ---with me--- MY ONLY SON!!
You see my dearest Joseph--- you are THE MISSING -- FATHER’S SON.
Only one BEING would know my PAIN--- without you-- MY ONLY 
SON!!

It would seem some evil force be-hide the whole perplexity.
You force by your mother and family---- into--- a fatherless child’s-- world
Me forced to live with-out----- my only Son—which cause YOU to be-
THE MISSING -- FATHER’S SON.
I am sure reality has been restrained from YOU-----your entire life.

 Only one BEING would know my PAIN--- without you-- MY ONLY 
SON!!
But---- HE sent HIS-- only SON to the CROSS--- To die for you and me.
Beaten, bruised, tormented and Crucified----beyond recognition---for OUR SINS!!
ALL THANKS be to HIS Heavenly Father----because with-out HIM---
you would not have a Padre.

You see --my dearest Joseph --you are THE MISSING -- FATHER’S SON.
If some evil force is present—he would know that the HEAVENLY—
Father is your father ------after all.
Because HE -----and HE alone ----can only be a Father to the 
Fatherless.
I leave with you my final plea—you would KNOW HIM as your- 
DADDY!!

By: WEM/MEW/EWM/EMW















 



Details | Narrative | |

My summer vacation

I made something beautiful
come out of the ground
painted vibrations and made
beautiful sounds
imagined shapes and colors
that delight the eyes
and planted them in a garden
and surrounded them with various skies
Spoke as God painted 
creation on the scroll
words that were silent
and beautiful to behold
words not said but sung
describing to the unseeing 
what God has done
Glorifying is the meaning
of plants posing and voices singing
of forces molding and chemicals
blending
bringing into being 
other things with feelings


Details | Epic | |

The Family Of Saints, Chapter 2- story

  Chapter 2-The Fate of Saints


During higher studies, in the same subject that his family was remembered for,
Raheem kept close relationship with his father. He used to visit him weekly.
When he comes home the family members would ask about how he was treated.
He would reply about the variety of foods, fruits and love he got from there.
Sheik Habeeb and the others started smelling doubts. They were afraid of
loosing their valuable asset. They held meetings and decided to keep Raheem
to themselves. For this they planned a marriage between Raheem and his blood
related cousin in the same family. But at this age of his youth, he was not
ready. His father too was not interested as the girl was from the family,
which was not good according to their sacred laws. But Raheem had to agree
as it was the family that took care of him. But he made a clause that he will
bring his father for the marriage. And so at this young age he got married.
Even though Reyhan attended the wedding the family was happy as they could
keep Raheem within them. Like every youth hopes for a loving wife, he also
hoped. He tried to be close to her. But her character was extremely strange.
She didn't like any male to come close her. During the initial days Raheem
neglected this but later he even had to use force to take her to bed. He
couldn't adjust and all the family members came to know about this. Raheem
informed his grandfather his problems. Sheik Habeeb and the family members
agreed that it was best that he divorced her as they could no longer live
together. And thus, within the third month of his marriage he was divorced.
But later he came to know that the girl was pregnant. To get out of all
these, he went to a distant learning place.


Details | I do not know? | |

~ Mercies Child ~

I am the essence of My Makers glory, now!

The humbled child, of His wonderous hands....

All that I am, good, is a reflection of His predestined desires

Born in His image, anew, from a once, but mere feeble man

Fragile within all of his ways, made, to fall to temptations taste

Given the robe of the world to wear, but when yet, still a young naive youth....

That all that one could wish for, hope, that was always readily there!

Fame and popularities, envies amongst his peers

Never alone, and always surrounded, by pretty faces, everywhere

Living the dream of the world, that most young men, never did dare 

The life of the parties, the gatherings, that always beckoned, his presence there

Like cards he had played, one upon another, these cards, within all of their shades....

Up and down the staircase, around the block and behind the house

To all of the dances, the dances, where he would always appear

Everyone, everywhere, everyway, wanted, to be a part of this show

Until one day, it all died inside, and the bright lights, they began to lose their glow

As at a gathering one night, aside the rivers banks, a beautiful girl, that had became 
a card of her own....

Standing as she approached with tears in her eyes, crying, as she sadly spoke

From a broken heart she had held, that he, had once sadly broke, now, piercing his 
very own!

Suddenly awakened, from this slumbering sleep, and feeling so deeply burned

While darkness laughed, at a product it had made, a darkened child, of its very own....

Entering the searching years, now, the shadowed, the Jekyll and the Hyde, of whom 
they had known?

Truly, a boy interrupted, sliced by the emptiness, that had buried his heart

Within a secular world, a world filled with glitter, lust, and, cold!

Until one night, one day, one moment, one dream, "He," came....

To introduce Himself, and to reveal this mercy, upon a once, merciless soul

Lost, but later to have realized, throughout the forthcoming years that would unfold

It was a lifetime of lessons, lessons, that were forever drawn

By the hands of his loving Creator, whom had watched him, all along....

For now, I am "My Fathers Child," the essence, of "His Very Son" 

Born out of time, delivered, from the darkest of nights

Another story that was written, that satan had known, a very long, long time ago!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                                             ~ Mercies Child ~


Details | Rhyme | |

It Is Written Chapter One Verses One To Five

In the darkness of the night,
a camp fire glows, yellow, orange, bright,
around it sit people who we now describe,
as together, having formed a tribe,
and as they roast their latest kill,
enough this time to eat their fill,
the father figure of them all,
begins to reminisce, yes, to recall,
stories of great deeds that he,
has stored within the recesses of his memory.

And through passing millennia it was thus done,
tribal histories passed from father to son,
until the populations of tribes had grown,
and many different stories had come to be known.
Then there came the great idea to draw,
depictions of what each day they saw,
when hunting the animals they needed to stay alive,
they recorded each species which then, did thrive,
painted on cave roof and wall,
wondrous visions which still enthral!

Change came slowly from this time, and,
populations moved to find new land,
so they could ensure their survival,
looking for space without any rival
tribes competing for scarce resources,
life was hard with Mother Nature's forces,
stacked against this new species, who,
compared to Earth's history, was brand new.

Successful tribes began to grow,
and with life experience they came to know,
that the hunter gatherer way of living,
was particularly hard, and unforgiving,
and that for their populations to expand,
they had to find new ways to exploit the land.

So from this point, change came faster,
sometimes punctuated by a natural disaster,
but change it did, and before too long,
they built settlements that were big, and strong,
on land from which they now knew,
the kind of crops from the soil best grew.


Details | Epic | |

the Adolescent Christ

in the book of Luke there's a reference that's mentioned
a disclosure of the boy named Jesus and His future intentions
He had been chosen to wear the Jewish crown upon His head
and attend to  His Father business, a destiny spirit-led
the teenage boy Jesus, the Adolescent Christ
understood at an early age He had a true mission in life
born to the carpenter Joseph and the Virgin Mary
born in the city of Nazareth in abject poverty
an immaculate conception, born out of wed-lock
many could not perceive of the gift His parents had got

one day Jesus and His parents travelled out of town
but on the road back home, Jesus could not be found
His parents became frantic, they could not understand
that He would be in the temple fulfilling God's master plan
the Adolescent Christ was just trying to comprehend
His true purpose for being on earth among mere men
He was seeking the knowledge that which He needed to know
from whence He had came and where He was destined to go
He was appointed with a chosen destiny
and had a desire to know why He was given this activity

don't go about allowing society to put labels on you
don't allow anyone to tell you what you can not do
seek out your lineage and about your ancestors learn
then apply that knowledge to everything in life you need to discern
for you have been chosen just like the Adolescent Jesus Christ
remember God had a purpose for giving you life

as youths yourselves, you are in a precarious situation
not quite adults but needing your own sense of validation
walking a fine line between the young and the old
trying to be respectful with a desire to be bold
the Adolescent Christ, Jesus the boy king
determined to discover what His appointment did mean
and just like the teenagers of society today
searching, hoping and seeking to find their own way
with a craving to look beyond their own expectations
wanting to exceed their ancestors accumulations

just let the Lord God strengthen you and let Him be your guide
and like His son Jesus Christ, let the Holy Spirit in you reside
trust in Him, believe in Him and may your conduct be above board
discover your heritage and your destiny while doing the work of the  Lord




Details | Epic | |

Live above Foeword balance ?3

Living below the low of slow roll
dyeing above the bow in fast sail
failNG front the sow is last paul
baylin flaps the lap si four call
wishin blips the cap tu tres papi
living clips the mam or thee ocho
caving snaps the wig or twig thee
oaring water the dig tu sing fall
winter sings the sun of life agua
cellin beans the lit pa wite bose
giving loves the kit su fite rite
spelin fours the pay if tres paso
quedes ledrs the foe is four tree
living lives the tea of fact free
tuGGin grass the Pep si ever mEEn
loving sings the SEA tu AMOR PaPa
bellow rings the til in THEE NOAN
writin green the man tu Over aGIN
pissin queen the tax me seen meAn
lackin picks the sax ol navy SEaL
cadets craps the SOY IN PLAY FOIL
CLAYIN SAVER THE FAD OF COLD CULR
LOSING BLEAD THE DIX IN CORE COST
FEVERN BLACK THE TIX OF FOUR WALK
LOVING LIVIN THE SEX SI CASE TRES
THININ PINNE THE PAC OF MAID TIES
FEELIN FREED THE LIP ES NADA PIDE
LIVING LYIVE THE CAL OF NORA WISE
PRISMS EVENY THE RAX OF KILO WITE
SLIGHT EYENG THE PAZ TU FOUR GIZE
TELLIN SEOUL THE EXA PU EVER GREW


Details | Light Poetry | |

' The Feast of Kings ... ' (or 'Holy Things')

See, The High King
And King of Kings
At The Feast of Kings                                      Eph. 2: 6,  Lu. 22: 30
Are Holy Things …

Holy Blood , Holy Wine
Fruit of Lips, from Holy Vine                            Heb. 13: 15,   John 15: 1
Cup of Love Passed, Blessed Divine                 Lu. 22: 17, 18
Bless Those, Who Thirst, Hunger and Dine        Matt. 5: 6

In Holy Banquet, Break Holy Bread                  Lu.  22: 19
From Which Silver-Sacred-Souls Are Fed
Holy Water, Chalice Poured and Shed               John 4: 14    Heb. 9: 22
Crystal-Clear Sparkles, on Tablets Read …        2 Cor. 3: 3

 Holy Words
Wholly Heard
As Holy Wings Aired
And Holy Hearts Stirred

Pure, Sayings Said
Holy Spirit Led
Where Even Angels, Fear To Tread                       Jude 9,   Rev. 14: 6, 7
‘Cept in Humble-Honor and Holy Dread

… Before The Holiest of Heads
And His Only Begotten-Bred
The Holy-Heir, Ruler, In His Stead                         1 Cor. 15: 24, 25
The Worthy One, Ready, To Be Wed …                  Matt. 9: 14, 15

Seated … At JAH’s Table-Grand                             1 Cor. 10: 21,   Ps. 83: 18
Seated … At God Almighty’s, Right Hand                 Ps. 110: 1,   Acts 7: 56
See, King Jesus, The Holy ‘Son Of Man’                  Rev. 14: 14
Reigning In Heaven and Holy Land

… They Invited The Hungry
And Those, Doing Laundry                                     Rev. 7: 14
Invited, All and Sundry                                          John 3: 16
(So, Don’t Wait ‘til Someday)                                 1 Cor. 7: 29

For There Are Holy Golden-Bowls                            Rev.  15: 7
Holy Raiment, Change of Clothes                            Rev. 7: 9
Holy, Royal Crowns for Those                                 Rev. 4: 10
All, The Holiest Chose …

… to See, The High King
And King of Kings
Yea, At That Feast of Kings
With Holy Harps, They Will Sing                               Rev. 14: 2, 3


Details | I do not know? | |

Move on

A feeling of feelings that i cannot understand,
my life and my love, where will it land?
I've fallen down and don't know where i am,
there is something missing and i do give a damn.
I love that something, so very much,
now it's gone, with no sound & no touch.
I try to move on & make a new start,
But how is this done? when they've taken my heart.


Details | Free verse | |

Watching from the sidelines

A dysfunctional family
Always yelling
Fights breaking out
But there can be no telling

The mother sits 
Acts as if nothing is going on
Watches blood spilt on the carpet
But the marriage goes on

The father is in it
Finds a reason to investigate
Shots questions off
And looks like an ape

The eldest has had his turn
Beating upon his brothers
Turned against him and gets into the brawl
Watching his blood spilt on the carpet

The step has his freedom
No blood, groubeatings
Watches from the sidelines
Glad to have his cockiness without anything




The next one down
Has seen his share of fights
No blood for him either
But some unnerving nights

The smallest has understood
But cannot decide what he should do 
Does he go with standing up
Or go with the cockiness too

While the three yearn to yell
They cannot fore he is the only one they have
The mom is so happy and they will not yell
Secrets will come one day to tell the fights they gave


Details | Sonnet | |

Master Blasters

Incredible as all of this may be,
And just as brilliant as our fate is,
You are my unique lift to my wiz!
So it looks like it is you or it’s me.
 
We’re in the winds and we both run free.
All of this is hers and it’s every bit of his.
Those two are master blasters put to quiz.
Together they locked eyes eternally to see.
 
They are dancing on the Moon,
Or they are singing to the Sun.
Their love has come too soon.
Now familiar renewal has begun.
 
They are in full bloom with a force that is most incredible to blossom,
What a glimmer in their glare they sand blasted out of awe to awesome!


Details | Ballad | |

' Warriors ... The Battle Cry Song ... '

There Are Sounds of Ancient Thunders
There Are Sounds of Ancient Drummers
        Calling … Brave Warriors
         Gladiators and Warriors

And They’re Marching To The Cadence of Their Hearts’ Pounding
Marching, To The Cadence of The World’s Rage Resounding
They’re Going By The Beat of Their Heart’s Pumping
By The Steady Flow of Blood and Bloodlust, Tells Me Somethin’

               … Warriors …
         Courageous Warriors …

Chorus:

But, We’ve Seen These Men, Playing With Their Children
We’ve Seen These Sons and Their Laughter, I’m Hearing
We’ve Seen These Men, Loving Their Babies
And Tenderly Holding and Kissing Their Ladies

               … Warriors …
         Courageous Warriors …

2nd Chorus:

Oh Lord, Please Stop These Warriors’ Battle Cry
And The Battle Cry, Coming From Their Mothers and Wives
The Battle Cry, Coming From Their Little Ones’ Eyes
The Battle Cry, Coming From Warriors … When They Die

               … Warriors …
         Courageous Warriors …

Sticks and Stones, Swords, Arrows and Bombs
Lances, Knives, Hand to Hand Combat, Napalm
God Almighty, Oh, Thy Kingdom Come
Please Rescue Us, From The Kingdom of The Gun …

And Prophecy Is Marching – Listen, All Who Arms Bear
Warriors, Must Beat War Weapons Into Plowshares            ( Isa. 2: 4 )
And When War, Is No More, Then We Will Hear
All Warriors’ Battle Cry, Will Be An Amen Cheer !

              … Gentle Warriors …
            Peace-Loving, Warriors …

2nd Chorus:

Oh Lord, Please Stop These Warriors’ Battle Cry
And The Battle Cry, Coming From Their Mothers and Wives
The Battle Cry, Coming From Their Little Ones’ Eyes
The Battle Cry, Coming From A Warrior’s … Last ‘ Why ? ’

                … Warriors …
           Courageous Warriors …

How Can Flesh and Blood, Mortal-Men, Be So Fearless, I Wonder
Are They Strengthened By Duty, Love and Honor
Facing Danger, Death and Being Torn Asunder
Sacrificing All, As A Fallen Soldier …

                 … Warrior …
           Courageous Warrior …


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

a life changing invitation

how many of us are afraid to be stuck in the same place?
to feel like you're running a one man relay race
when will the change happen? when will you be able to move on?
how do you find that perfect peace on your life's horizon?

Jesus of Christ simply said, "come unto Me"
submit to Me and I will set your soul free
I will offer you a life changing transformation
I will issue you an invite to receive eternal salvation
I will be the vine with roots anchored deep
you will be My branches to bear fruit oh so sweet
I am the way to having your soul become healed
just treat Me as a partner and not a third wheel 

I will reward you if you just seek Me out
I will bless and anoint you with nary a doubt
for with Me each and everything is surely possible
just have belief and true faith in My living gospel
all things will come together and work out in your life
all you have to do is come to Me, the Lord Jesus Christ
It's time that we develop a relationship based on trust
for trust will be the super glue that will keep binding us
come unto the faith and simply trust in Me
and you will find a purpose in life, your true destiny

don't put your trust in the hands of men for men will always fall down
look to Me and My Father and with the Holy Spirit you will be found
as the master is the teacher and the teacher is the servant
acquiesce to My Father's commands and get what you're deserving
for life is a  journey that's full of trials and tribulations
submit and commit to God's doctrine, it's a solid foundation
let Me give you the desires that are in your heart
pray to Me daily and meditate on the word of My Father God
I Am your battle fighter,  the Prince of Peace and your salvation
your Deliverer, the Messiah, I AM My Father's manifestation
as the road of life can be weary and full of trepidation
come to Me, Jesus Christ and get a life changing invitation


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Great Existence

Moving up over through 
Into
All I've known is felt through the end 
Never a beginning always ending
Falter as I may, myself I hold - alone in company 
Tress in to limestone pillars of my great hall 
Great as the Norse and proud as well
Threads of time woven with clumsy hands led by blind eyes 
Thus is the expanse of the web of life The Great Existence 
Not where but it's the being that is. Is what I am and 
What we are


Details | Rhyme | |

Taking Pictures in the Rain

Would I look insane
If I took pictures in the rain?
My face would be…sponging wet 
My camera would be slippery I bet

Would I be in danger
If I took photos of a passerby and a stranger?
My reputation would probably be out of shape
My own skin would turn a odd shade…just like the clouds—covered by a foggy cape

It would be a whole new adventure
If I drive that damp road of cement…what would occur?
My uncertainty leads to a mysterious freeway…we are all along for the ride
We’ll still be together like some married couple—well, I’ll always stay by their side

Would we be in danger
If I took photos of this horrifying recollection?
Will it drive my dad to anger?
My safety is hanging on its last seat belt; I’ll never forget this risky exploration

Would I be the one to blame
If I took pictures of the rain’s appalling flame? 
My face is showered with bogging rain and blurred fog
My curiosity increases the rainstorm and I flash the driver to create a direction’s clog


Details | I do not know? | |

Books

   Take me away, show me a place that's fit for a queen and then maybe ill stay. Lost in 
your world, I can feel the pages turning am I under oath because I want you to know that 
I would never lie to you. just let me in and I will feel safe locked up in your numbers 
constantly rising. Maybe I could pretend and never have to love again if only you would 
let the pleasure stay then maybe I would ignore boys forever. No hurting no pain just the 
smooth feeling of other people's writing. My secret tree house, my own party and i'm 
excited I don't need real friends. When i'm around you it's just you and me making magic. 
I never have to feel afraid, I feel what you feel. I just let my memories fade. It's when 
I reach the end and shut the book that I finally realize that i'm lonely. I'd do anything 
to get the key back into your world. A tear drops down as I say goodbye like " graduation 
day" another friend that I have to put on a shelf and never visit again. If we shall meet 
in another life time I'll laugh, ill smile, and I will fall in love once again with the 
memories of the pages and creases I left in them.


Details | I do not know? | |

A father and a friend

It seems like I owe you my life

More or less at least half of my time

To dedicate, a better way to express the way I feel

Maybe a walk, or maybe we can talk

About our relationship

You saved me since, I paid attention

And the spirit hasn’t escaped me since

 



If I had one last breath, I’d breathe again

If I had a moment to spend, I’d be with Him

As I’m prepared for when He comes           

And save my life to live and trust

That God watches over me

As a father and a friend

 


When there are times I feel alone your there for me

While caught between a storm, there is relief

During the times I feel confused

Learning that life conceals its truth

Hoping a light reveals the root

And a way for me to see

 



I can talk to you in the morning while I’m awake

Or on vacation away from the pain I hide away

As my father and my friend

From all I depend in you

How could I replace


Details | Epic | |

Child Support

Child support is a court-ordered rule that makes both the mother and the father pay until
his or her 18th birthday. It seems that when the mother gets full custody of the child or
children, then the divorced father must get a job in order to pay financial support. But t
seems to me that the dads are refusing to give the mothers of their children money because
for one, some of them will have used their past against them, and two, that they're using
their own children for financial gain. But according to the child support laws, the
fathers can't obtain all visitation rights, which it will have allowed them to have seen
their kids unless he pays the full amount to the mother. The ones who have custody of
their children don't have to pay, but the ones who don't have custody of them must pay
child support. Everybody knows that not paying child support is against the law in all 50
states, including Missouri. the dead-beat dads who are planning on not paying child
support or trying to skip on their own children and the mothers will go to jail for 2
years and get a $10,000 fine, and if these men owe the women and the courts a lot of money
in back child support payments, they're in financial trouble. So my suggestion is for all
of the would-be fathers to step up to the plate and help these women raise their children
because all of the mothers in America can't raise their children alone. And if they don't
want to raise children like responsible fathers, then these men shouldn't be real fathers
at all and left these women alone.


Details | Free verse | |

You Are My Heart

Lord,

You are my heart.

You knew me right from the start.

Even when I didn't yet know Your Name,

You still loved me just the same.

You're the only one I can count on.

The world can turn me away,

but with You, I'll always belong.

If I mess up along the way,

I come to You in Repentance.

You fill me with Your Grace.

You went to Calvary and died.

I can't begin to imagine how You were feeling inside.

You did it to give us a brand new start.

Lord,

I love You!

Lord,

You truly are my heart!


Details | Epic | |

Her Savior, Her Hero

3/12/05



It was told to me that the last vision of my beloved sister Joan Michelle, 
Was her standing in the window of our family home being reassured that it was alright to
jump into the arms of a hero.
Instead, as the hero cried out and pleaded for her to jump, Joan responded, “I can’t-I
can’t”, and than she moved out of plain view.

I pondered with this version of her last words and actions, and could not fathom any of
this knowing the strong will, but meek nature that she carried.
This made for me to have some restless days and sleepless nights, but one day as I was
talking to my Lord and Savior, asking Him for some type of peace with what had happened,
He gave me His vision that I must share with you, 

Right before my eyes he aloud for me to see my sister standing in that window with the
most calming ora that I had ever seen in her, in her lifetime.
I could see the hero had already rescued one and was desperately trying to rescue Joan.
He stood with open arms crying  out “Jump-Jump”, I promise I’ll catch you. Instead she
turned away for a split second without moving from the window. There I could see her
talking to her Heavenly Father whom had been standing along side her. He told that it was
time, time for her to come home now. For a slight moment she turned, looked out of the
window, and than walked away.

I could hear Her Hero telling her: daughter it’s time to lay down, and go to sleep, just
like an earthly father would do with his child, and  Joan Michelle did just what her
Savior told her to do. Now she’s in the most high place, jumping into the arms of her
Heavenly Father “her Hero” as she said these words: 

LOOK AT ME, I HAVE BEEN SET FREE!!!!!!              


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The Boatman's Song 12/ Many

The Boatman’s Song   			12/Many

The Princess made an excuse before her father 
So that her step Uncle may not know 
That she had started planning  
To tackle all those, who were making a conspiracy 
Against her father 
About which, she had come to know only that day
But her step Uncle was not knowing, that she had just heard
About his treachery to kill her father and to remove her 
So that he may capture her kingdom  

She knew that any moment, her step Uncle would be here 
And suddenly she saw, another horse coming towards them
On which was a man much younger in age than her father
Her Uncle was quite stout with a face full of cheating and cunning ness             
And his mind was busy, in creating some deeper designs
But this was known only to Princess YogMaya*
Who had overheard accidentally, how he was planning to kill the King

YogMaya came near her father, who was although a King
But was looking like a helpless ruler, because of his age
And because of the curse, of not being blessed by any Prince 
As a Prince could have very well looked after the King and Queen
As well as, the young Princess YogMaya  
Whom her father used to call lovingly by Many names 
Her father’s favorite YogMaya the princess was too young
To tackle the treacherous conspiracies, which were being hatched
In the absence of strength in the arms of her father 
And the needed sharpness which is required in a King’s mind   
Her father was too old now to act as an effective king


Ravindra 						to continue …..

Kanpur India   15th January 2010


Note: The story contains many imaginary characters along with the
Gods, Goddesses from the Indian Mythology and from the golden era 
Of Ancient Indian History. To make this epic drama interesting I have tried to
Cover only those things, which are based on the true Indian culture and 
Hindu religion as per Vedas, Upnishad’s and Gita etc. which are the foundation 
of our true Hindu religion and Indian philosophy and which says that entire 
universe is our family. “Vasudeo Kutumbukum*”.  All faiths leads towards that one 
Omnipresent, only the paths may differ, respect them all.  As and when historic characters 
would be taken I will let the readers know, in order to appreciate the entire Drama in the 
light of Hindu Mythology, Indian philosophy and Ancient Indian History.

Ravindra


     * Yog Maya     Name given to Princess by her father the King
     * Darshan       Hindi word for Philosophy


Details | Narrative | |

II. Father Jones

The passage was dark and damp
over a month locked inside a cell under the sea somewhere
but when Father Jones planted his feet back on solid ground
and saw the Statue of Liberty rising like a green mountain into the gray sky
he knew he had found his country. The free life was not always so easy,
and he had to work for his milk & honey. After he took 
a bayonet through the lung in Germany, he settled down to turn cogs
in a Pittsburg factory, but knew it was all worth it when he laid eyes on
Mother Jones. Their sons became salesmen, and the youngest 
married a Dutch girl, who adopted my father, who met my mother
studying at Vanderbilt, the Harvard of the south.


Details | Rhyme royal | |

Fear

   It'll crawl in your insides and make you turn upside down.
    You'll start to run from everything and all everyone can do is look at you with sad 
eyes. Like it's sad that your afraid to climb mountain tops and crawl in the dirt. It 
sort of makes you guilty for always running away and it always catches up to you until 
you can't escape anymore. It's like the world is so huge and intimidating, it makes you 
seem so small like your the only one. Fear is fear until you learn to conquer it. Don't 
let it take over your mind because when it gets there it's deadly, it'll eat your insides 
even though your not ready.


Details | Narrative | |

I. Father Byrd

Centuries ago
Father Byrd crossed those worn and weathered mounts
into the wild untamed unclaimed Mississippi River valley, settled down
and farmed land in a place that came to be called West Tennessee
sent grandsons off to Franklin to die for the Confederacy, sat and wept
and said not a word until he died of a broken heart, let his sons and 
their grandsons and their sons and their sons farm his acres 
‘til TVA took half of it, and the mechanized farmers across the Mississippi made 
the rest useless, and the next generation went off to college and got Yankee 
jobs, and 
his last son sat dying of Alzheimer’s in a Lay-Z-Boy in front of a TV screen, and 
his brother drove the last stake of barbed wire fencing into the ground,
rolled over and died of a heart attack in the timeless pasture.
He was eighty-six. I’m seventeen and here I sit
using my hands not for plowing, not for splitting logs,
not for shooting deer, not for fencing,
but for writing the history of those who came before
and made this life possible.


Details | Romanticism | |

In a good girls eyes

 In a good girls eyes lies darkness and mischief; Hidden in her disguise she's god but 
without it she's the devil. Caught up with her bible hugging in the morning and her panty 
throwing at night. Though she despises Alchohol it's really the fear that it comes down 
to. Worried that with one gulp she'll lose control and everyone will now she's not an 
angel. So twisted inside her lies to everyone, she desires to be touched forbiddenly  
though she stills a virgin. No one knows the secrets that lies behind the doors of a good 
girls eyes. She is slowly losing momentum seeing that bad girls always have more fun. So 
her legs started to inch apart, the one's she had promised to keep closed. No one knew 
that behind these eyes of a good girl lied a hoe just waiting to explore. Waiting to 
exhale, finally take a bite out of life for her damn self. She realized that good girls 
were too wholesome and she felt she needed to part some if you know what I mean. It 
wasn't until she got out there that she realized there was nothing good about being bad 
and maybe she was being naive but I think it was sad because she had so much to live for 
now she was trapped in a world in a world and she couldn't get back. Even though she 
prayed and prayed and said god please let me back in, he said i'm sorry but to me you 
have learn nothing didn't I always tell you to resist Temptation at all cost? She said 
yeah well what about forgiveness I though you taught that too. I did but your with the 
devil now your playing with different rules and in his world once your tarnished your 
forever his. Tears fell down her eyes as she listened to what he said. Another girl gone 
rotten, it's a shame because you could have been out queen. She said I still will be, and 
god watched as she kissed the devils lips. A tear dropped down his eyes as he reached but 
she was gone.


Details | Epic | |

Edge

Saw the world in mommy's eyes
Through the blood and tears she cries
Now I have to sell my soul 
To the fingers around her throat

(When no one's around)

The devil's in the walls
The devil's in the walls
The devil's in the walls
Do you wanna be alone?

Point and laugh till you're pushed in
Sins of the father are stories for children
But if you want to live at all
Innocence will take the fall

Daddy was a lesson learned
Rather go away and spread his word
To anyone willing to hear
Ones who love have too much fear

(When no one's around)

The devil's in the walls
The devil's in the walls
The devil's in the walls
Do you wanna be alone?

Point and laugh till you're pushed in
Sins of the father are stories for children
But if you want to live at all
Innocence will take the fall


Details | I do not know? | |

Devoured

She is yellow tonight, grinning 
as she reflects the day. Her breath 
Splashes against me, needles of silver 
Inject my skin. Casting shadows and trapping thought, 
in punctured sails. 
Petals dissolve; gather as pulp at the base 
Of my heart. Burgundy lines solid flesh. 
Empty beats crackle and echo through 
my hollow bones. Chalk that spends itself 
in continual lines. 
Thought, in tatters hanging from my brain, 
Is dry. Scorched by the flickering tongue 
Of the sun. Flames that fed on the fertile 
Fabric, spun from raw emotion. 
Devoured the spark, 
halted production.


Details | Narrative | |

In Between Hearbeats

Got to go to work in the morning
But baby I ain't got no job
I have so many places to be
But darling I ain't got a car
I'm hungry!
But Meals-On-Wheels don't come on this end of the ghetto
Plus they say I'm too young
But man, if thangs don't hurry up and change
I ain't gonna live long enough to get old

I bought a .38 to protect my house
Now I need that same gun to keep me from getting kicked out
My babies are in the dark crying
My ol' lady praying and cussin
Saying that if it wasn't for my good midnight lovin'
I wouldn't be nothing

The only thing harder than being hard 
Is being smarter than the smart
Thats what I thought when I stuck up the West- Side's main
Reefer distributor
And I wasn't going to have a second thought of  squeezing the trigger
Until that fella fell, kicked, yelled, and screamed out loud
My whole entire name that was the same as his

See, this cat was the the man that Mama said was my daddy
Who cut out on her right before she had me
Until this day I hadn't even seen
Not since the age of three back on Christmas Day of 1983


Details | I do not know? | |

Above

Hear Me, O God! A broken Heart, Is my best part;
Use still thy rod, that I may prove therein thy love.
If thou hadst not been stern to me, but left Me free, I had
Forgot myself and thee time.
For sin's so sweet, as minds ill bent rarely repent, untill they meet
Their punishment who more can crave than thou hast done,
That gav'st a $on, to free a $lave? first made naught with all
$ince bought ABOVE my loss as sure to win under dive cross six wishes.


Details | I do not know? | |

Diary of a good girl

         You look at me and think that I am so innocent, but don't you know what your 
really seeing because I think your eyes are tricking you. I can be ms. goody two shoes 
but don't you know what I wanna do? it's impossible to make a blind guy see that good 
girls are really closet freaks. I walk around in jeans and a nice shirt but you only look 
at the girls with short skimpy things and who act like they know. but you know it's the 
quiet ones that really know how to put it down, were not afraid grab my hand and I will 
show you I've been around waiting for this chance.When are guys going to grow some common 
sense you won't get anywhere with a chick who think she been there and done that.  I'm 
serious so if your laughing now then you have learned nothing new because i'm not going 
to be the one to school you unless your with me and then you'll know. I don't need 
attention it's when I want it that I truly get it. Don't need to wear flashy clothes 
because it's inner confidence that will make me grab what I want when I need it. See were 
special and I don't appreciate comments and opinions about how boring we can be? Just 
think all this time I've been restricted wait until I open. You won't be able to stop me 
I will be traveling so fast you might need an advil. This is me and during the day I work 
to get straight A's but just think about what the night can bring. I'm devoted and i'm 
kind and when you need it I will supply. So next time I grin, or a good girl is sitting 
next to you give her a chance she will not disappoint because shy good girls really 
command when it comes to what they know. So before you think a good girl is strictly good 
read this nice handy manual and then you will see what fun a good girl can be... peace 
don't forget this Diary. 


Details | I do not know? | |

For love or money?

    You say you love me, I say I don't know what I feel. You throw the money and maybe I 
think this is real. Blinded by the light you spend more money then you know how to just 
love. Why is it that you think you own me? I feel like i'm in love but with a guy whose 
not you and i'm sorry to say I want to be a star but I don't need your change to help me 
get to where I want to go. I'm independent and I fly on my own two wings, though you 
might manicure them I still control the direction that they go in. Maybe if you would 
calm down a little and stop flashing that money maybe I would be into you for more then 
what to serve me. It's sad but true and I can't help what i'm feeling, I am no gold 
digger so stop thinking you can buy me. I am special and unique and it won't take 
crystall to pop the cork in me. I can feel the way he treats me and i'm falling so deep. 
You better not start anything or I will have to x you out the picture for life, the only 
reason I still talk to you is because well I don't. You stalk me everyone moment and i'd 
hate to say your a bugaboo but your getting on my last nerves I just might call this 
quits too. Don't you get the word no I will always choose love over money to me it's more 
about the lust. Am I attracted to you? Well the real me would have to answer but as a 
friends answer would say looks aren't everything. Take your money and take your dirty 
footprints stop stepping on my life or next time when you come around I will make sure I 
call the cops.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Being (Part Two of Two)

You … Are The Epitome of All Existence
Ypi… Are The Optimum – Pulse – Presence
We Live in Your Radius – Residence
and You … Are The Preserver, The Palace, The Promise
The Peace,  Pretty Perfection,  and  Providence
The Rightful Owner of Our Obedience…

‘… The Being ’

The Father’s Fingers, Were The Spark of Genesis
Flowing –  The Full Splendor of Continuance
Rousing Radiance, Beauteous Brilliance
Somewhere With ‘ Word ’,  ‘ He ’ Pronounced A Sublime Sentence
… and Time Arose and Fell in Universal Reverence
Marching Each Moment – In  A Consecrated Cadence

to…  ‘… The Being ’

Unapproachable, Blinding… Is His Light
Eyes of Holy Glory – Magnify Prophecy With Sight
… to Us, Is Invisible, Yet Invincible – The Spirit
And  The Son of This Source,  ‘ The Word ’… Hear It!
Logos Said:  “This Is Truth!”… we’re Speaking of…
His  Name is  Jehovah … ‘ He ’ is ‘Luminor’ Love!...

… This Is… ‘ The Being ’

… Sun,  Moon,  Stars…  Space
Earth,  Oceans,  Sky…  Heaven’s Face
Genuine Evidence – At A Generous Pace
Emitting Precious Waves in Everlasting Embrace
To Us… Was Given This Tremendous – Touch – Trace
Of  The  Sovereign  Lord  God… Oh, Your Merciful Grace…
May We Ever  Love,  Pray Allegiance  and  Praise…

… ‘ Your Beauteous Being ’…


Details | ABC | |

SHIFTING SANDS

Using me, 
I take a refuge in desire.
‘Seeing act’ strangulates. 
I suffer in the mists of defeat, 
there is no evidence. 
One attachment catches the conflict.
The fading light of moon burns my pillow,
transcripts impenetrable theme.

Conceiving a problem 
in the shifting sands, life seeks
a view of words and enjoys the discreet
meaningless movement. 
We play the game again & again, 
feed our egos. Study the sorrow 
and give charity to the torn flags 
of pride and hunger.

The fear does not end, 
the looking does not stop.
Each answer leaps to a grief.
The chronicle of squeezed holocaust. 
we were hurting each other
humming a song. 
Violence of non-violence was more evident.


SATISH VERMA


Details | I do not know? | |

Sweet loving

         Here I am, wanna take me far away from the things that trouble me? How do you 
know just what I need? I need sweet loving every day of the week and if you can't give 
it then please remove yourself because this isn't a game you won't play with my heart. I 
will travel the world and complete my dreams but when the time comes I want a good man 
to hold me. Keep me warm and show me love nothing wrong with being alone but I guess I 
just worry and I honestly I want that sweet affection, I need that sweet loving.


Details | I do not know? | |

Killers Remorse

Forgive me father for I have sinned

He whispered efficiently into the priests ear

I killed a man today but it was his fault

He looked at me wrong therefore I needed to 

I tore his heart out with his own hand

I saw him starring vaguely in my direction

I could not help myself but stare back with fury

My uncontrolable demon inside of me did it

I must convict myself before justice takes me

The balance of the universe shifted when my hand entered his chest

His lonely black heart lay beating in my soft gentle hand

As it stopped beating I looked into his eyes

They went lifeless and hazed over with relief

He wanted me to kill him priest

He asked me when he looked at me

The glance provoked his wish to come true

I did him a favor as I am a saint working for you

The man I killed was the devil

The man I slaughtered with a grin was the man who killed hope

The balance of the universe has shifted

The balance of the universe has been lifted

As I lifted his beating heart......so I did to the universe

I saved the universe priest....I saved you

Now I must die as a result 


Details | I do not know? | |

Land of Expectations

Living in the glamorous, you haven't seen beauty until you come here. No one's unique 
just outsiders, to the people who are in it the people who aren't don't matter. Living 
and breathing the air of successors and opportunities if you waste your chances you will 
be left feeling bitter. The land of expectations No one's free from it's hold. It takes 
determination and experience in the world to really be known. A place full of excitement, 
No one truly sleeps. Day and night, living in the tall buildings and bright lights you 
don't exist if you don't look normal. Teased beat and left uglier than you once knew. 
Better conform fast or the dirt is where they'll leave you. It's not all terrible, just a 
million roses in a garden trying to grow and outshine each other. You'll have so much fun 
that you'll forget your past. Gripped into our world, dreams that someday Hollywood will 
come even though we despise it. Problems by the dozen but no one complains. Who would 
when you live in the land of expectations? Better pass, exams, life experiences, no one 
expects you to drown. Gasping for air, in a land of perfectionists... what matters most 
is that you get the grade you suppose to. But what if you don't, they'll fill you with 
lies leaving you with no hope. I won't conform, I won't drown, ill make my way even if 
it's not by regulation. What can a girl do but try to survive the world of Cliches in the 
land of expectations.


Details | ABC | |

ANOTHER TOMORROW

You forgot the lines
and lineage. Getting all
or nothing, pulling away at the umbilical cord,
seeking liberty to commit a sin
or feeling liberated after committing the sin.

The tone embodies the elopement, unbound,
to invent the disorder
and divide the provocation.

Night was approaching with few stars,
flowing like the squealing of a dark saint,
blameless, under the thin breath
of the dying sun.

Into the orphanage enters the day
riding on the dust of history.
My journey begins into time
to change into another tomorrow.


SATISH VERMA


Details | I do not know? | |

Forever

 There you are sitting here and I don't know about you but I want to get to know you. The 
way you smile, the way you make me laugh. Your all I want and I just want you to know. I 
used to be that same shy girl who would look away when you turn towards me but don't you 
know we don't have forever and now that I've figured that out I won't be nervous anymore. 
I want you here with me and there isn't any room for playing games because your perfect 
in my eyes your my soul mate. The way you look at me, Oh I can't believe I let you go.  
But not the second time around. I will look you dead in the eye, I won't just write in my 
diary about what I want to do. Nothing will happen if you just sit around, I've learn 
this now as I watch you walk out of my life. If I ever did see you again and I mean this 
when I say I would walk right up to you and flirt and even though it's not in my nature I 
want you to know we don't have forever. So what if you reject me, I just have to know 
that I made an attempt. I won't let love just walk out on me, I am different can't you 
see. Your everything that I have dreamed and now that your back I just can't let you 
leave. Don't you know what it was like watching you when I was younger. I was nervous 
just being around you gave me shivers. Maturity is great because now I can look you 
straight in the eyes and tell you what I have been thinking since I first saw you. We 
don't have forever so if you want me please don't doodle. As I calmly walked up to you 
and smiled the only thought in my mind was " to be continued".


Details | I do not know? | |

Changes will come

    I open my eyes and the bright skies shine into my face, sometimes i'm paralyzed by 
how happy I can be. Nothing has ever felt this way before. I have never opened up this 
door and finally i'm ready to experience life and now it's coming. Grabbing, shoving me 
all in the right direction and I can't complain that i'm happy just being me. Fun, no one 
has to be around it's just me and myself and I can be glad all by myself. But i'm never 
alone, surrounding by a thousand friends and their all welcoming when ever. Tears have 
fallen down my eyes and I can taste the rainbow after the storms. Changes will come and I 
will never forget the lesson that I've learned, changes will come and I won't be the only 
one. I will survive. I will fight to stay alive. I will care, I will listen, tonight... 
changes will come.


Details | Bio | |

Golden Memories

Golden Memories
Brother I wouldn’t pronounce you to the world
I pause out your conversation when you held your little girl
In let you promise the sun to the water 
And as you told god you would give life to grantee chances for your first daughter
Sister I wouldn’t judge you 
When you chose to lay a woman next to you
Remembering the walks we used to take 
At my bus stop you used to wait 
For me and the books you used to read 
And conversations we share and the stories you could tell
Sister you sure can sell 
But you sold me these golden memories
Mother some hard arguments 
Was rip though with negative comments
But as Shirley say what you given me no charge 
If you want to become who you truly are
Let life see you working hard
One time you broke down 
From words I conceive 
Now I know I shouldn’t never said no matter how much I believe 
All these hard times I wanted to blame you because you was the reason 
It was hard for me to bereave 
Now I know for life there are no fees
I thank The Lord for you and these golden memories
Father you were there for me at the start 
Troubles would take you into the waters 
As I continue to swim 
I would see you floating 
But you would never reach me 
But your departure or your absence 
Is what question me 
Until I finish it will be unknown 
Someday I know your reasons would come along
Until I shall take time and hope to see
Hope you wouldn’t only be a image of a golden memory


Details | ABC | |

NOW YOU KNOW

You are not with yourself today.
Conversation was stopped, from cloud to cloud.
Now you know what you did not want to know.

No longer the pathless destiny, 
comes near you, you go towards the
bushes to collect the ash, the burnt out
remains of a theme, a design, a horizon.

In memory of books, which are not read
by anyone now. Pages lay wounded. Black
stones trying to hear the sounds of dawn.
The tremors were increasing in the swampland.

The wolves were in howling rage. A daring
gift of death, tormenting the spirit, human
flesh, you watch through the twilight,
through the terror of betrayal. Each tear drop
sacrifices the eternity.


SATISH VERMA


Details | ABC | |

STILL BIRTH

Roses had gone wilting
after surgery.
Biovision
of acrylic lenses
was projecting a corrupt green mount.
The rubber king had a papery laugh.

How you deal with a maverick –
matter – of – factly?
Pall bearers of a tall legend
were carrying nitroglycerine sticks
unfazed.

Saboteurs of moon night were scheming.
I was sick of pretentions.
Brown and black scars
become a honeycomb
hiding the agenda.

Stigmatized devotion gets back at you
after still birth of truth.
I will wait sine die for the verdict
of hope.


 
SATISH VERMA


Details | I do not know? | |

This is how it is

    This is how it is everyone is destined to be lonely. A little happiness can come 
around to cheer them up but after a while it's just me myself and I that I can trust. I 
won't cry when the people you thought were real began to talk, it's how it always is and 
only best friends survive the tide. But it always seems that I never fit. I am here and I 
am there but when I come into a group it's just me and they see and after a while they 
treat me like I've never been. It's sad I know that i'm destined to be alone but this is 
how it is and I guess I will never have someone that I can be truly real with. It's makes 
me upset sometimes, I am feeling so dependent on this person and it's like I need them to 
survive but what I've realized is that they are my bridge but I don't need them there so 
I can cross it. Eventually they come around but it never is the same. It's a ways away 
from how we used to be, like a hurricane hitting an island the after affects are brutal. 
I finally got to do this and I finally got to do that but now that I look back I used to 
be more independent. I used to be happy being alone. People can change you and not for 
the good... Sometimes the change is eating you slowly until they drop you like a piece of 
garbage feeling used. It hurts, But this is how it is and I guess I have been stepped on 
too many times in life to recognize the real me. I need sometime off and then maybe I 
will come back but independent it's sounding better and better as I go on each day.


Details | I do not know? | |

HIM

I feel pain mentally
why did he do it
he hurt me in ways unknown to even myself
your a bastard i hope you know this
can't you see you hurt your beautiful girl and you knew it
and if you thought we loved you guess what you blew it


Details | Epic | |

take Jesus at His word

people will often say one thing and then do another
they will tell falsehoods and untruths to each other
but no matter what was said or what you might have heard
the Lord Jesus Christ always keeps His word

take Jesus at His word, for it's always true
He will never lie nor try to mislead you
call on Him at any time, any day or any hour
He will see to your needs with His omnipotent power
if you trust in Him, believe in Him you will then receive
an anointing or a blessing in your time of need

take Him at His word, on it you can rely
be like that official whose son was about to die
the official went before Jesus and asked Him for a favor
Jesus told him that his son shall live because of his behavior
because My purpose for being here you have perceived
the mercy and grace of My Father you will then receive

let the Lord Jesus Christ help you through your times of stress
and if you only posses a mustard seed of faith to you He will bless
don't look for anything spectacular when from God you seek a sign
it's not a Broadway production,so keep that thought in mind

take Jesus at His word, on it you can depend
the New Testament is a testament written all about Him
it's the instructions that we need in order to live life right
it's the anointed word of God from the Kingdom of Light
and when ever God speaks, consider it done
for only His word will determine the final outcome

take Jesus at His word, it has resurrection power
it took away the raging fever from that boy at the seventh hour
take Jesus at His word and let it be your guiding force
for the anointed word of God is the ultimate power source


Details | I do not know? | |

Hold on

  A moment in time as sweet as the best wine your crying out to me and all I can tell you 
is hold on.
  It will get easier if you just let me go, Let me fade away into the darkness that you 
call home.  
  I will come for you so promise me one thing when you move on I don't want you to forget 
me but I want you to promise me that you will not cry because that I don't like to see.
  Just go on with your life, I want you to have it all. 
    Fight for that dream do you have any idea what's in store.
  I can feel it and I know your going to be so big, the brightest star in my world.
   You will succeed I promise just hold on dear darling the world is waiting for you to 
become what I have always dreamed.
  So as I fade and become invisible I want to tell  you baby to hold on because you 
deserve what your working hard for.


Details | ABC | |

FLAMES

You went blank on the line
between sand and water,
between seizure and assault.
The tribes have unwrapped their torches,
they are coming in numbers.

Who was going on trial?
Fierce fidelity is demanding vendetta.
The drummer announces the fight.
Justice parts the lips for
peace against tragedy!

The golden voice caves in.
Time moves as a profane octopus -
suckers clasping on the vital stomata.
Green blood oozes from eyes.
The truce was transient.

Childless earth throws up the flames.



SATISH VERMA