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Premium Member The Shadow’s Tether

                     s
                     t
                     a
                     n
                     d
                     i
                     n
                     g 
where gravel morphs into 
grains of sand 
his curious eyes fixed
at a raven tap-dancing 
with its beak. 
             the raven 
doesn't ask why 
the afternoon sun is pale
or why the air reeks 
of wet stone and exhaust;
              it only wants the shine 
his coat unsuitable 
for the January damp 
the zipper stuck halfway - 
a jagged metal teeth-grin 
biting at his chest 
he watches the commuters pass 
their faces blurred 
like charcoal sketches 
pelted by cloudburst 
he feels the weight of 
               his own shadow 
a dark, heavy ink 
spilled across the sidewalk 
tethered to his heels by 
a thin line of habit 
               he wonders 
if he's the man 
or merely the space 
the man occupies 
a hallowed-out shape
 on a crowded street 
waiting for the light to change 
or the ground 
to finally... 
          speak

Marriage And Divorce

Except pool blood and chicken feather,
Marriage is not a lifesaver.

Don't put all weight in the cabin,
Or use marriage as a safe haven.

Divorce is a major misfortune in life,
Leaving unsuitable person is a good strife.

Decision to divorce is much more difficult,
Decision to marriage is easy as opening a vault.

Marriage should be the icing on the cake,
Divorce is an emo-psycho exhausting war freak.

Premium Member Girly-Girl

Crown of gold curls in rainbow wrappers.
Girly-girl, at two, favored to be beautiful.
Eyelids delight to be painted baby-girl green.
Dolly’s lascivious lashes soaked in black ink.

Innocent strawberries dot baby-blue sleeveless top.
Soon, she’ll be strapless, primping at the vanity.
For now, she holds a mirror with her eyes closed;
her reflection not quite perfected; a natural blush

of lips, cherub-cheeks and baby-fat skin. Shedding
the green, pink, yellow rollers with angel hair bouncing
off her shoulders, and rolling out the hourglass figure
with a perfect pout and hips that shout ‘look at me.’

Indeed, at two years old, she looks in the mirror,
smiles, as her mother approves, and daddy sits
in his easy chair, not knowing to be bothered by
the impending storm of unsuitable guys at the door.


Premium Member Silk Sheets

This Poem is rated Mature and may contain material unsuitable for readers under 18.
Silk sheets

Some wine

Some sex

Some cum

Some goodbye

Some guilt

Silk sheets

Some washing machine

Some dryer

Some door opening

Someone's home

Someone kissed

Someone sleeps

Some guilt

Some hope.

Letter To Memories

Dear Memories,
You are so precious to me.
Especially the fond delights;
Which keeps my mind afresh of past moments,
To which I make renewed and informed decisions today,
Sustain ancient renowned trends,
And become a better version of myself.
I put you in high esteem,
For there won't be an iota of change if you hadn't existed. 
And to the ill-boding and unsuitable ones;
Thanks for growing and exposing me to glare reality.
For you taught me to learn,unlearn and re-learn.
It has been a hell of a ride.
But , ohh ! I've got to admit, 
My desired transitions are visible and laudable.
You are the best companion.

Premium Member The Dream of a Lonely Orphan

She sat alone
behind a closed window,
secured by iron grids,
on the top floor 
of an ugly old black building
that some dared call 
an orphanage.
 
Once she had hope,
Once she had dreams
that some kindly couple 
might perceive,
wish her for themselves,
take her to a cosy house,
where food was savoury to taste.
 
She dreamt she would 
achieve normality,
attend a proper school,
read books and play
with happy children,
receive toys occasionally,
and live in harmony.
 
The dream remained a dream.
days turned forlorn.
All hope was lost.
She was too old now.
Couples wanted small children,
Unsuitable ones came for her
but were refused.
 
Little did she know
that soon she would
develop another dream, 
that someone would finally notice her,
and carry her off
on a romantic spree.
From the closed barred window
She looked at the moon.
Will she find happiness?


Mannequins

The mannequins put on skin 
pretending to be human
feigning familiarity 
with lives they’ve never lived
performing a pantomime 
of proficiency in poverty
the wisdom won from doing without
playing the part of people 
they consider inconsequential
believe are below them
with whom it would be unsuitable 
to be seen socializing
unworthy of a welcoming word 
as they parade about 
before the cameras and crowds 
bedecked in diamonds and gold 
silk gowns and Armani suits 
whose value would feed 
more than a few struggling families 
Contemptible creatures
Heinous and hollow

Premium Member Excerpt From the Compilation Prayer, Number 6, Time For Our Elders

Excerpts from the compilation: “Prayer” 6:
Time for our Elders 

I wish that we take Time for our Elders,
Even before some of them slowly slip away. 
And that we can forgive and let go
Of some of the ineffective, inappropriate and unsuitable
Beliefs and lessons that they received
And passed on to us.
And that we can understand
That they need our loving 
patient care and appreciation. 
And that a World without Grace, 
Gratitude, Respect and Dignity,
Is barren, un-bearable and life-less.
And that we can learn 
About the beauty of aging
And not be afraid
(Like we don’t fear the passing of the seasons),
So that we are able to fiercely
Treasure and live each moment,
Regardless of the weather,
To the full.

© Sangeet Portals 2020

Ahh Reversing That Takes Me Back

I don't want the job
whatever it maybe
nope wont tell you anything about me
all my qualities make me unsuitable
No good with people
unpleasant by choice
irritated by your voice
How could i improve your company
be absent every day
How would i deal with an unpleasant customer
Violently
Tell you where i will be a year from now
at home wearing your skin as a trophy
Can't pay me enough
you can't buy me
Rules i don't follow
Happy in my sorrow
Do i have any question
Nope you wont see me tomorrow

The Son

The son I lost

  
My sister had three sons she was not in good health
and when her oldest brother was 16, she died and left them
to a father who was cold and distant.
Since I didn´t have a son, I thought of the oldest, Earl, like my son.
Earl worked hard and studied, and moved out as soon as he could
to a flat of his own.
Of his two younger brothers I have little to say as they succumbed 
to the narrow confined of a small town.
Earl married too early to an unsuitable woman, but the marriage
produced a son the divorce court gave to him, which set back 
his studies for a few years
Finally, he got his diploma and worked for an oil firm designing rigs and the mysterious world of techniques I know nothing about. 
When he had a difficult problem, he came, stayed at my house 
sat on the terrace to late-night till he found a solution.
Years went by he grew and became a leader, although he was naturally
shy, he put that aside when working.
Suddenly, it appears to me that everything happens at the same time,
It was time for him to retire.
I have lost him as a son, he doesn’t need me anymore, and that is the way
It should be.

Paratrooper Stu

Plunged to terrain plagued, tasty female options 
Surge of adrenalin pulses choices unsuitable 
Piquant aroma pulls him closer, allure accosting
Sentient favours solacious flower so beautiful

Hurtled descent drops watchful onto hillock haze
Swayed seed laden willow heads have halos
Hedonistic impulse picks silken stems with craze
Seraphim surround a torn aura in dewy daos 

Preordained mistake palates spasmed heartbeat
Shrews drawn to Stu allude to transformation 
Prurient dripping pores warble wanton indiscreet
Strident serpentines permit desire incubation

Heathen has escape, wrapped parachute harness 
Preparing his tortured innards for due launch
Hazards bring unbridled enthusiasm for newness
Pride hides a tarnished ego, attempts reforge 





11th February 

Whenever waking, 
Lady tailor making

Turing Tested

He proved, with a skill irrefutable,
Some functions to be uncomputable.
   His run sadly halted
   When magistrates faulted
His code-breaking love as unsuitable.

---

(Alan Turing was a brilliant pioneer in the development of computer science. Among other achievements, he is remembered for proving that it is not possible to compute a general solution to the problem of whether or not a given program will ever halt, and for his so-called "Turing test" approach to the question of what artificial intelligence would mean, and for the pivotal role he played in breaking Nazi codes in WWII. His tragic early death is thought to have been a suicide, perhaps motivated at least in part by the horrifying legal prosecution he endured for his homosexuality.)

Time After Time

"time after time"

somewhere between yesterday and today
time after time this road was traveled
lost in limbo lost in pain lost in a storm

with wrong decisions and unsuitable choices
somehow the fog and path to lost mounted
a new day began as yesterday endlessly shadowed

mind body and soul have been overtaken 
such a cloud of darkness took its reign
further and further deeper and deeper

suddenly out of the blue with grace
thoughts cleared as the heart began to beat 
somewhere from this day came everlasting sun

SkyWatcher
09-18-18


note:
good morning all
please consider this a dedication to anyone going through hard times
life and stress can truly take a toll on mind body and spirit
may this day find you well
some thoughts other than nature or love

thank you
may you all endure
may the sun shine

Where Has He Gone

Where has he gone, the one who carried my laughter, gave me countless stories of his pasture, unsuitable for a grazing sheep like me.

Where has he gone, the one who confused hearts with the mastery of his muse, taken by his words of smooth.

Where has he gone, the deceitful nature of his innocent behavior intentional, unintentional still favored.

Where has he gone, my compass could not detect the direction of his wind, if I keep searching will I find him again or is this a journey towards no end.

Where has he gone, hidden under a rock to hide once again, his heart that has been shattered by countless friends, will the shattered stones be cast by one, will the tears from fright be dried by the Son or will his heart still need me.

Here I am but where has he gone.

Connections

An unrisen Sun has power —
Rays unsuitable to the day-world break the night cover
The Sun is brighter and stronger without sunlight
Some other things to do with the Sun too are a misnomer
It matters not if I see him leave at the end of prayer
He always returns to be a brief companion
To do which he has mountains to maneuver
They do aarti to the Ganga and him too
Pure orangeness of setting Ganga shares
It is her nature to love her beholder
He is her viewer and she his waiter.

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