Don't judge me
For you know it's true
This moment connects
Me to you
You may refute
You may rebuke
As quietly
The table shook
But tell me this
As tears we cry
Releasing joy
You can't deny
As biome sings
It's tuneful rumble
While friends are sharing
Apple crumble
A deeper note
Can oft be heard
Beneath the failing
Of the word
Reality
Robots know not
Oh how this act
Just hits the spot
To summarise
As you're still here
Despite the awkward
Social fear
We celebrate
This quality
Our gaseous, imperfect
Humanity
So don't be shy
As you're about
You can't withhold
So let it out
A knowing nod
To passers by
You're just like me
We can't deny
Cnidaria and water,
Likely the inseparable twins ;
When parted with their biome ,
Serve as fish without the fine.
Cnidaria breathes with mere water presence,
Water feeds with mere love essence ;
The feeding animal in the ocean bed,
May showcase as if fictionally said .
The practicality co existed has now it's share,
If love is fictional : no despair;
Possession isn't the aim : feeling is,
If this is what love is , it is a pure bliss.
my precise compass points to innermost heart
a microcosmic myrtle of macrocosm art
I journey inward this core, where lies my
Tree of Life ____
tasting amber resonance of Self’s sap
it cradles spirit, now a blissed viburnum
spaceless space kisses,
olive is ocarina enchanting,
enthralling, embracing
earth and heaven ~ discerning,
lemon heathered ____a garden
Core imbues form with ineffable frequencies
elusive is a holly terminal
spirit discerns tree’s essence,
agape agapanthus caped appears
belled garden knows
own’s every oak throb
benevolent bonafide biome,
pulsing life force
animating Being’s fluids
in pond stillness
translucent lotus opens
sublime perfumed
destination to heart core costs zilch
no other station can compare !
Dream
I took your hands into mine with a gaze
You smiled and murmured,
“I will not go, and why hold so tight?”
I let you go loose with a cautious look.
Though happy and blissful jiffy
Scared was I of the evading scene.
Will the time come grabbing you from me?
But stayed you till the end with me.
Rang the alarm eclipsing my soul
Dropping me to the world without you.
Realized did I, the biome of mine,
All alone but just with your memories.
Piercing is my soul, with a sharp dagger
Driving I am in the palanquin of grieve.
Beckons me the responsibilities you bestowed
Beholds and harnesses to this secluded world.
Bewildered I am to transcend;
Elated I am to live in the old bygones
The treasure troves of memories of you and us
That heaven have endued on us
Sandhya Bijoy
To be the warm and cool it
My vein is an empty place
Come to me and visit the
Floodplain of the gifted -
The biome of the tender heart
Be the flagship near my crater
Face. Crater me kind to find
The comfort under my skin
And vein, empty on the name
Of love, God gifted and high
As heaven, I impeach you -
The talented fox hunter
The gifted frog butcher
You the one I love and care
For - who stole my respect
Before I could even give it
The terrace offers a point. From this point
a view. It's only a stopoff; it assumes
the motion requisite for temporary
stays will continue. The speculative
friction required to stop those passing
through would require planned extinction;
would require war against generations
of persistence across biome, suffering &
misery magnified it remains threatened
always. Building requires digging.
Digging creates hollows to be filled.
A move past botanicals—it doesn’t exist.
A pulse in the web. Walk toward beyond
the view: journey’s luck to close in on
production. Pace picks up, dusk’s dis-
appearing light invites one in: welcome.
Seed scattered, strewn, sown
grain stuck on passive flytrap
wild life sesame
pine, spruce, larch -
be my witness
as i lead this pack of wolves
across the taiga of existentialism;
i am the biome of conflicting identities;
my winters are harsh, my summers, mild:
i am the earth -
i am its plains, its forests, its rivers,
on which we graze, hunt, and drink;
i am the oldest of the conifers, the fir of might and age,
i am the sad, forgotten spirit, the looming apparition,
the boreal winds, the storms of ice, the murky sea,
the hoarfrost in the foliage of pines -
i am the spectre over moors at night, wailing the lost love,
and when i dream,
i dream polewards, and in saudade:
boreal night, lull me to sleep -
i can hear the ambience of the Östersjö waves.
Beauty of nature is in its dictum.
The world is being stratified,
here life and plants are as the guide,
charming consensus of the stratum.
Hushing tones of the swinging pines,
hikers often do approach,
how the flowers claim for touch -
miscellaneous layers, medley signs.
Transparent water of streams and ponds,
human nature making bonds,
entwined, enchanted – gazing.
From the distance looks the deer
on exhausted mountaineer –
sheep grassland biome are grazing.
We should have gone outside instead of watching one
of the sillier, senseless, meaningless movies it is possible
to rent or buy. Winter or not the fields and woods
are at least real, commensal and understandable if
you know the genus and species. Know the genome
and biome. Learn the physics and music.
But this much reality requires an escape, hence
bad movie. A bad book is better than a bad movie.
A good movie trumps a bad book, but a good book is best
and a great poem trumps all. Will my son Zach be one
who applies the scientific method? Can Aaron explain
God's intentions to the people? Their mother and I will wait.
Celtic Celtic mythology,
All in the land
All in the sand
You may think real or fake
Through all the toadstools
Using your tools
There stand a willow tree
With leaves that flow free
You may think real or fake
Seeing a lock of red
In thy willow bed
Lay there a maiden
Which did not belong to satin
You may think real or fake
Wisps fly high
Without a cry nor sigh
Giants roam
Within the biome
You may think real or fake
Merrow swim swiftly
Leprechauns are thrifty
Dragons roar
Above the shore
You may think real or fake
You may cry
To say goodbye
But there they hide
Right by your side
Celtic Celtic mythology.
Biology, biodiversity, biomass, bio this, bio that. You don't get I want to just throw u in the trash.
Your biogenisis, the binary fissure, a bilateral symmetry, and the bile. Well, it's enough to make one go senile!
B-I-O-L-O-G-Y don't you get that I just sigh? B-I-O-L-O-G-Y Please...don't even try.
Biome, biomolecule, biotics. I'd really rather play on my electronics.
Bipedal, bisphere, it's enough to make one fear... B-I-O-L-O-G-Y Sometimes you make me cry. B-I-O-L-O-G-Y I'm just trying to get by. B-I-O-L-O-G-Y You really should be a crime. B-I-O-L-O-G-Y Oh my....
I like my home
For me it is my biome
In that I have a cat
It gets crazy when it sits on my mat
My home is clean
My family is not mean
I have a doll
Which rolls on my ball
I have a brother who crawls
And follows me to all the malls
I have a sister who plays with the toy mouse
And follows me to my friends house
I like my home
which is my biome
The town was
fissured.
It does not listen to me
that moribund heart, now.
The biome was ready
to set on fire all the smiles.
No person of god
will lead the prayers to grave.
Let the dust meet the dust
stealthly and
you win the script surreptitiously.
Beautifully done, the obscene death.
A bruise spreads
shattering the mirrors of perfect accident.
Satish Verma
Barren wasteland covers this zone
Cold and white it stands,
Though what beauty reveals is so unreal
That humans walk the land.
Fierce winds torment at height
Smothering all in their wake,
But brave mountains take on their might
Ending the tundra’s crusade
Squeezed between the valleys below
Shivering they try to stay still,
For a predator watches down on its haunches
Trying to plan the kill
Trees scattered here and there
Grown by forces unknown,
Although they will survive out here
Suns warmth will never be shown
Maybe this biome seems to be
Something undiscovered,
But trees will speak if you keep
Their secrets under cover
Whatever lies beneath the snow
We will surely never know,
Maybe it’s Rosetta stone
Sitting on her lovely throne
Although there is nothing here you see
Just a young writers words,
And this is why imagination’s key
To get by in our world
Without it we would forever be
Stuck on the outside,
With nothing there except to stare
At the blank white skys...
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