Long Sops Poems

Beatin' this path 'til my heart stop
cause any moment my heart. could. stop.
Swear any day my chest might pop
So sit tight, bout to open up shop
Call this the English chop shop, loppin' slop
'til I'm atop...

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My grandfather taught me an unusual way to catch fish.
I tried it out one night I went with mom who is a musician.
During the day, she gives well off kids, music lessons, piano, guitar, and...

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MERGED IN SURRENDER


Kiss me quiet under the rain~   skips and pounds,
awash the tears and pain fevering my anguish,
with the July moon to stir my slothful frown,
wide-skirted trees swing demure on the breeze
their cyclic...

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He would have dissolved the congress party
Would have stopped at once all its festivity
Certainly would have gone on hunger strike
And, would have, launched a blistering attack.

He would have wholly banned the sacred khadi
That some time...

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My town nicknamed, ‘Mini Dubai’, burgeoned and branched
on the bank of Kanoli canal like a tamarind seed.

Now the silvered canal sprawls on its death bed.

Busy pedestrians walk down 
an ancient bridge built by the British.
As...

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As lonely sighs drift across the mountaintops
Mists linger ‘til midmorning, caressing trees
It's evident that the temperature slowly drops,
For a chill is accompanying the August breeze.

Slight hints of color nestle in along the crown
As lonely sighs...

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The sun sincerely set tonight,
the rising moon to night's delight, 
where water couplets parse the night
and scattered roots thy rose. 

Fore every drop that sops the sky
and leaves nay speck of dry behind, 
the lunar...

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christening cruise, ship to shore...queasy slick ~
  tropically trotting, tempura-tapping, sure shoot’n quick ~
    digital capture of roiling hammock can’t help courting hacks ~
      HOrrendous cheesy...

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And like that she became wet.
Undressing before she bathed in the storm.
Umbrella left home, by the door.
She wanted to be cleansed. 
Clothes thrown to the side.
Where's the fun in being dry.
To rush every moment that...

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The trails of fog like cold entrails
that wind and slither through the copse
which shiver at the touch and sops.
A chance at vision clearly fails.

Each jutting rock: a sentinel.
A greying headstone stands alone
against the tones of...

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A poet
dresses the naked 
word, 

with emotions. Such as the air 
in this empty room sops the hand 
and satisfaction it gives. Still, 

the pen he has used 
flows again and the page cherishes 
that...

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What is significant to your life?
What words stick with you? 

What Memories pour forth in your shackled brain?
What things make you go absolutely insane?
What darkness sops your soul?
What light keeps you controlled?

What is bad poetry?
—can’t...

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