Long Copy Poems
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As one gets older some look back, some want to see what they did right and wrong. Some call this their memoirs, a life of their many memories. Maybe an excavation on life is what we needed, look deep into the many years gone by. Found what we did right, now how can we copy it. Found what we did wrong, now set it a side. When a deep life excavation is done, what will we find. Write it all down both right and wrong, pass it on to the younger ones. Many years ago the younger ones learned, they learned from the older ones in the family. Maybe we need to turn the hands on the clock back, to old practices of learning from the older family
members.
Today the younger ones seem to be lost, so lost in this crazy world we live in. If we did an excavation on our lives, what mysteries would we find. Maybe we can save a younger life, maybe make our life more meaningful in return.
Date Written: 6/21/2019
4 Place
Title: An Excavation This or That, Vol 4 Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
SUDDENLY SOMETHING
Have you ever spent a night in a six by ten foot cell?
Well that’s where my FESTERING fears dwell
And no one with a prescription pad will write for a junkie born and bred
Did you ever wish more earth dwellers would all suddenly be dead
Look, there’s a pretty little miss, oh it’s daddy’s little girl
She dances on my feet when she starts to whirl
I told her to hold down her pleated skirt when she begins to twirl
My little girl with a smile and every tooth a perfect pearl
In silent supplication I’d sneak up to hear her prayer for that eve
I just wanted to hear daddy’s little girl pray and then I would leave
First she blessed the Almighty, his spirit and his soul
Making prayers come true was her sole and only goal
It could be a league of angels advising her on the right thing to do
Or sprites to make all things look like new
It might be little singing stars, from above came they for you
So your daughter can ignore an errant and off key dove pleased not to coo
She looks completely comfortable in a cloak and coat of cashmere
S**t, I’d trade an arm for her body no matter what she may wear
Whatever happens next is only though fate to be willed
And if you listen closely one can hear the breeze being stilled
Alas she grows nigh with hips swinging and lips moving
And then those loquacious lips emitted “would you care to have a tea”
I knew she could hear by heart from across the table
And then it was only silence, lovely her and me
“Look, me and that lady over there are wearing the same dress”
And so whatever she was going to do it may have to be under duress
“that lady has the a copy of my original,” and she was enraged
Something tells me your friends have never been caged
I’ve been penned up with a pen, pen pals and ten pencils, but only one isn’t too dull
You’d think out of all those pencils there’d be one sharp one to cull
So you’re daddy’s little girl no longer my sweet
But I’ll let y’all know when next we can meet
So when I first talked about being caged in a cell
if asked for the truth my story would be difficult to tell
Because each eye a gem, each tooth a pearl
So tell me sweetheart, are you still daddy’s little girl
© 2011.……free cee!
And s.b.---if you are gonna ask me, so where’s the nexus from one thing to another I
say go have another glass of vintage brandy.
Vasava – An untold story 10/Many
Curtains made of Silk with gold thread embroidery
Were hanging on all the doors and windows of the auditorium
Big silk curtains, were hanging behind the dance stage
Shining and blinking, because of gold and silver on them,
Were brightening the dance stage, making it bright like a day
Beautiful Persian carpets were displayed
Covering the entire auditorium, where the guests were sitting
A thin such carpet was also lying, all around the stage
Leaving the dance floor, which was made of Mahogany wood
On which, Vasava was sitting to start her first Raga of the day
All the eyes were drinking the nectar like wine of Vasava
So lovely were her looks and so intoxicating was her youth
The beauty of her spotless body, was spreading its charms
Which was coming out, from every part of her body, specially
The matchless beauty of her eyes, legs, waist, hands and bosoms
King Suyodhan was invited on the stage to declare the Utsava to begin
And then appeared the attraction of the Utsava or the day, Vasava
The drums and musical instruments began to flow their sounds
The team of musicians accompanying Vasava, took seat near her
Suddenly all became speechless, so that they may not miss a word of her singing
Vasava’s face appears to have taken, the beauty from full Moon glow
And the gold Noopur* which she wearing in her feet’s
Were ringing, on her leg’s movements, creating a melody on its own,
Her recitation of Saraswati’s* prayer had already enthralled everyone
And now she was about to begin, her first performance of the day
Ravindra to continue in 11
Kanpur India 21st March 2010
Copy writes protection as per Poetry Soup automatic Copy write provisions also.
* Gold Noopur Noorpur means small bells, which dancers wear while
performing the dances in Indian. The Noopur which
Vasava was wearing were made of Gold. It creates a
sound on the movements of legs. Normally it is made
of brass and many such are tied up in a cloth belt.
* Noopur A hallow anklet containing tiny bells
(following on figurative heals
sans, l'amour,
i.e.,and that bastard conception
of life, liberty, and the
pursuit by George - Marshall ling, Grant
ting, and Bing Frank.)
Expectant motherhood generates aurorean
sonogram x-ray zooms
bringing developed fetus
healthily shimmering viz,
quasi hologram seen
glowing halo, inducing
jubilant kickstarter lil bean,
administering capitalone
earthlinked joyful lyft,
natural pheromone readying cerulean
tommorrows, venerated ecstacy doth gleam
zinging bounteous
dizzying feelings hormones houseclean
jackanapes leviathon nestling
pinterestinly interocean
reaching terminus vista
xing zee birth canal mien
doctor readies Fallopian tube cutting
helping jiggle little nymphean
possibly ranking...
as future topnotch venerated Olympian
fast forward to joyful loving neuro
logically plain resplendent teen
knee weeny tiny
vaunted expanding zing
baby dripping Vasoline
like goo fully gesticulating
happy jolly newborn.
Which miracle whipped
purely by chance
given reason to the most orthodox
to sing and dance,
sans said singular biological
phenomenon does enhance
freshly minted parents,
or the mommas
and papas genetic
copy wrought grants
who already passed along
to a brood of offspring
gushing with excitement
akin to fire hydrants
spewing forth fountain head
treasuring such Kodak moment,
cuz such instance
and subsequent tender
wonderful blessed
Instamatic reverent cherished instants
will zip at greased lightening
via speeding hurled lance
sing remembrance of things past
during twilight years,
an eye blink those yesterdays,
when my troubles seemed so far away
and upon being centenarian,
doddering fogie gripping hold,
hugging intensely, indubitably decrying
how quickly of
decades long ex pants
didst elapse, when tendering
to a coliciky, finicky,
inscrutably lemony snickety offspring
wishing infant would grow up already,
now onset of autonomy
Das Agean sea sunned
father or mother
hood doth rants
at father time, he doth access
without a word an excel lent
power point demonstration
with near vertical line brevity
of how mortality slants.
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
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"~" "~" ("~") LOVE> ("~")
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""(H)ONEST-GOD ((O))PEN-(((W)))ILLING-All-WAYS-HOPEFUL;
HONOR-LOVE-HIS HEAVENLY; CREATOR-PROVIDING "~" (~) "~"
ETERNAL "~" (~) "~" HUMBLY-ABIDING-HIMSELF FOR-HIS-OWN
"REACHING" "~ (~) ~" ACCEPTING "~ (~) ~" always-what-Hate;
cannot - born-of LOVE, Grace-UNCONDITIONAL; THE-DEVOTIONAL
LIFE; HIS-FREE-SPIRIT, man-forged-sent-into-the-mixture;
"~ (~) ~" ENTRUSTED "~ (~) ~"
Faith-instilled-Faith Evolving-IS--HIS-PERFECTED "HIS CHILDREN"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eM61MusOE7g&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aOSUDwV57hY&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sz2oFHAp2VI&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WV2gS5qQlic&feature=fvw
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L78wcxUXxYc
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QcIups90YsY
http://www.youtube.com/user/Darknesser666
The-Desire... Pureness; Of-Man -
GRACE-MERCY-CONSIDERED -
MERCY/FORGIVENESS/PEACE
PARDON/PONDERED/LOVE-
SURRENDERED... OFFERED;
INNOCENCE-DELIVERED,
JESUS... THE-EXAMPLE -
So-through HIM-ETERNITY -
"THUS; THE-BOLDNESS "OF" MAN!""
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Date December 19th 2010: http://www.whitehouse.gov/thank-you
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=269101
Plus a copy of this reference to being mailed.
Time today is: 306 AM first message same one mailed after second one to the
President at 3:36 AM or around there about:
http://www.whitehouse.gov/thank-you
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JkUnBPdR9RU&feature=channel
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=269230
http://allpoetry.com/ban/show/6960
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HlTcgwcjxLE&feature=related
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.
20FabelSEVEN
Charlexes Fabels
Gardenor
A Mexican sweat is just a teepee with a fire made hotter and a rock placed where
you can pour the water on the hot rock to make some steam come up and they
add some pine to make a smell so sweet to tired alcoholic lidded eye eye did my
time cold TURKEY and never needed one. One man who works in landscaping
as the gardenor becomes too busy to notice the other man escaping on the
sidewalk it is the thief the gardenor is using both his hands in his effort for
release the other man in shadow land appearance coinciding with the worker
there just thinking while he is walking hands in pocket just holding on to nothing
as he sort of Saunders bye? Saunders
For over 60 years Saunders Manufacturing in Readfield, Maine has made top
quality Form Holders and Clipboards for millions of customers worldwide. Now
our new Portable Desktop line continues the tradition. Just a coincidence please
Gentile reader ewe must understand the non commercial usage of this poem
business. A Random act of kindness to your senses.
Charles (surname)
Charles is a given name for males, and has its origins in Common Germanic
where it originally was used to indicate a free man, but not one belonging to the
nobility.
While eye was typing this the contact email on the link opened up into a brand
new page and never made connected to the name? please people if you put the
actual name of your email address then we the customers can copy and then
past the thing and then you could have read my fable and had a much better day
oh Mr. and the Mrs. Saunders. The Gardenor may read this missive iff eye bother
to make the translation into Spanish for the bulk males of the working force is
Mexicans.
GARDINER: From the Danish for "garden keeper." A noble profession and a vivid
name. Relatives: Gardener, Gardenor, Gardner, Gardnard, Garden, Gar.
Namesakes: Erle Stanley Gardner, John Gardner. Eye am just a Charles
derivative a CHARLAX iff ewe will of some great import a relic not a derelict of
duty a lover never a fighter a want to be husband to the ewe oh ewe please smile
as ewe aer reading this one and be sure.
Jealousy is never meant to make us harm but only to make love come back so
strong to make the other one in love return a little stronger than she was before
the Jealousy.
Fear not for i hold you in my heart
I was not bought but was made
In the perfection of the image of the maker
My heart smiles to you all for your good wishes
You sang melodiously to me in tribulation
To calm my dying soul which seek help.
I won't forget your kindness in the dark
But your warmth enduring smiles will last
Forever in my smiling heart of hope.
Tell Ugonma, i am doing good now
She is not a deceiver all i know
To Ugochinyere, for holding my pen
THose times i dosed off on the table in the night
Tell Nnamdi, i forget not his tales and poems
My ears are dying to listen again without pain
Mother was there when the dreams were slippery
Away but she made my heart smiled again
Thanks to the great beholders of pen
They inspired me dawn and dusk in their books
Acknowledgement so long i wrote in absence of gut
Inspire my orders in the dawn not revised motion
Skeletal wishes from the immovable heart of a queen
To Ranyinudo, for guiding my thoughts to book
I won't forget the whispering of that lonely queen
She sang to me and showed me what love means to her
To the people of Exra-ordinary- talents(POET) warm wishes
Embraces to Mccoy, who slept every day with the manuscript
Kisses have i sent to father for his moral support
My sister showed me what womanhood stood for, grace to her
My brother danced day and night to see me through
My heart smiles to you all for your kind gesture
Register your good deeds in your heart
some are registered in my palms for rewards
I wished for my wish to become a wish come true
So to increase your worth and value
Say me well to Nwayibe, i hold her
Tight in my heart but my erudite pen will fail me in honouring you here.
TO Ifeanyi, i love your courage
TO Mbanefu, i promise never disappointing
Disgrace not fear but handle him with care.
To chimaobim, I am becoming a great writer.
To Ifesinachi, thanks for teaching me how to hold pen
John chizoba vincent cares, i cares for you all
To ifedayo, i promise to beat the drum louder.
To my ancestral home, i will write about
You when the world recognizes my voice
To my humble friend, the pen, i hold you high above all
My image maker, God, i love you above all
My photocopy, mother, i missed your love
To my carbon copy, father i am doing just fine.
My humble heart smiles to you all.
©John chizoba Vincent
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.