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xmxrgxncy Aug 2016
Pinning my tongue to my cheek
with needles of ice and strife,
I grow weaker every week
Thinking of my dead life.

Happiness is all I vie for
with the strength of thousands of men
................

my mind is too boggled with emotions to rhyme,
and as it turns out, it's a waste of time

she's not going to read me, or want me, or find
that I'd give up everything for the sake of her mind

what she never will quite understand
is that I'll never leave her, let go of her hand

even as a friend if I'm doomed to stay,
I'll be happy for the sake of today

cause it means she'll be happy, and that's quite a lot...
and mine's nothing in compare. With hers? It's not.
I'll do anything for her, and if she needs to friendzone me in order to make her life easier, I'm all for it. My feelings don't matter, she needs to do what's best, no matter how much it hurts me. I care too much for her to let my selfish feelings wreck her.
#m
xmxrgxncy Aug 2016
She told me no against my lips
I accepted

She told me maybe through a screen
I shivered

She told me yes through confusion
I waited

She told me goodbye
*I broke
#m
THREE MONKS
Morning sunbeams danced on the ripples
Sparkling on the majestic flow of Mother Ganga.
Noisy crowds of pious pilgrims from all corners,
Pestered by ash-smeared, bargaining priests,
Rushed towards the sacred waters for a holy bath ,
In a hurry to wash off their numerous sins
And save themselves from Yamadharma's* wrath.
Three solemn-looking monks in saffron robes,
Moved briskly past the motley crowds,
Looking for a less noisy, cleaner spot.
At a distance, they saw a colourful launch,
Carrying pilgrims across the vast expanse,
When, all of a sudden, the launch tumbled
And scrambling pilgrims, in panic jumped  
Into the river flowing fast over hidden rocks.
Seeing their desperate struggle, the surprised monks
Took a hasty plunge and swam towards the sinking launch
And pulled some of them towards the sandy shore,
While one of the sturdy monks carried on his back,
A woman clinging to the side, breathing hard
And left her after she recovered composure.
Resuming their walk along the river bank,
Two of the monks appeared rather grim and cold.
Breaking their solemn silence, the frowning monks
Called their companion a big sinner
For he had carried a young woman on his back.
Unperturbed, the robust monk said with a smile,
Although he had carried a drowning woman on his back,
He had left  her safely on the river bank
While the scolding monks carried her still in their minds
And they hardly knew what detachment meant !
Startled and rudely awakened, the two monks
Prostrated before Vivekananda, the awe-inspiring saint!
                **     M.G.Narasimha Murthy
  
Name of the God of Death in Indian mythology.
Swami Vivekananda (1863-1902), disciple of Ramakrishna Paramahamsa, founded the famous Ramakrishna Math at Kolkata
in,1

Swami Vivekananda (1863-1902), disciple of Ramakrishna Paramahamsa, founded the famous Ramakrishna Math at Kolkata in
18609. In his most inspiring speech at the World Parliament of Religions at  Chicago in 1893, he emphasized the oneness of the teachings of all great religions and worked for the good of mankind.
xmxrgxncy Aug 2016
If only I could sing
to make up for the words I just can't say
#m
xmxrgxncy Aug 2016
...and since you aren't here to receive this prize, I'll simply stow it away for later.

How many more weeks do you want me to repeat this? My heart is getting tired of staying in my chest, since that's not where it belongs.
#m
xmxrgxncy Aug 2016
She reads and never understands.

Where does she think, exactly, that I'm getting all this inspiration?

I leave myself alone with my mind too much, I think.
#m
xmxrgxncy Aug 2016
There are so many people I want to help.

But first, I have to focus on myself.

How can I help her if I can't help myself?

Hypocrisy.
#m
KING OF THE BOXING RING*
        
Muhammad Ali, the renowned boxing star,
Thrilled the world with his terrific fights;
Fearsome moves, nimble feet and fiery fists,
Memorable in his own well-known words,
Could "float like a butterfly and sting like a bee",
Cruhed his mighty rivals with awesome ease.
Honoured and loved as a great humanist,
More than titles, he valued respect and equality
And fought against racism and injustice.
Stripped of his title and thrown into jail,
Bravely opposed the Vietnam war,
Refused to join the army and drop bombs
On unknown people who were not his foes.
When ill-treated for the colour of his skin,
Threw his Olympic medal into the Ohio stream,
Roused the conscience of his fellowmen.
Ali, the great pugilist, king of the boxing ring,
Shines in the galaxy with Mandela and Dr. King.
                      ***.   M.G.Narasimha Murthy
Hyderabad, India.
* This poem is a tribute to the great American  boxer
and heavy-weight champion Muhammad Ali who
passed  away on 3 June 2016.   M.G.N.Murthy.
Neo May 2016
Temptation crawls into my thoughts,
Like a micro- bug,
Planting seeds of inception

& suddenly these wants are birthed.

First,
I kind of wanted to get drunk
&
I kind of wanted to message you.
Now
I want to hold you so tight
the walls between my chest, lungs & heart could break.
I want you to set free these wild creatures behind rib cages,
I can not tame them but, like whales, they sing for you.

However
While in my heart I feel that I should,
in my head I know that I shouldn’t.

So tonight
    I’ll sleep
& awake with regret.

The sad part is
Not that I’ll be regretful
for ever contemplating
these forbidden thoughts

But knowing that I did not perform them.

M
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