the earth transformed
herself into an hour glass...
more fragile than ever
...
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Who cares to wake up When earth as a bliss gyrate the hour glass Like the sour cream cheeks of belly-dancers And piping in some tobacconists flavour playing the chess of life and death......... This sands of time is mine This earth o mine eluding a manliness And i rendezvous in sweet sour dreams of cavorting pleasure In heart, in mind, in body and in soul who wants to wake up when the soft fluffy touch of ladylove as well seems pythogenetic O splash my blood today for earth's tomorrow's history Run the seismic chasms in my veins Crescent starlike crescendo in crotonic debilitation! ...........lol! nice write
lets wake up, yes surely, but most importantly, lets wake up with something definite in our minds, not disoriented. loved the poem ma'am, deep as always. thank you.
...let's wake up....and do what, indira.....? ? ? ......die before we are buried or to re-transform the earth.....sorry, i fail to get the metaphor, dear....
I feel the fine grains of sand, Gracefully all over me, sliding, I try to trap them in my hand, Hoping to prevent time, passing!