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Beginning: A story started from the day I reached my mothers womb,
Suffering and pain I will carry till my tomb.
Playful childhood naughtiness,
Which did bring my mother little happiness.
Same naughtiness cannot be carried to adulthood,
As will definitely bring tremors in her mood.
For all misbehavior, by her, there will be lot o abuse,
Trust me those are all love in disguise.

Childhood: I have filled her world with sorrow’s
My words would’ve pierced her heart as arrows.
I, a selfish boy with no guidance,
Filled with this worldly nuisance.
Lost my youth in various atrocities,
Roaming around with brats around cities.
Little did she know her child’s future,
Will always carry this societal fracture.

Adolescence: A romantic stage of play,
My heart got slayed.
In a world of feminism,
Where I wished to see womanism.
All their wit with sweet talk,
Will lead you to a broken heart, in life’s walk.
The one I truly loved, didn’t love me, in my teen,
The one that loved me, found its way in the wedding.

Adulthood: The saddest day when I lost my father,
Who was always correcting me, for my better future.
As he never wanted me to be another him,
Making me stronger was his only aim.
It give me chills to my bone of his pain and suffering,
Watching and standing like a stone, not knowing.
A bell ringing that it is my time to prepare and to shine,
To fight life’s battle, armor up for my life tasks, not to whine.

Corporate: Filled with competition, greed & betrayal are ways of life,
In this godforsaken world of strife.
Corporates with fake promises,
Forgetting all that they work, build and save, one day dies.
Corporate *******, snakes and vultures,
Spreading venom & feeding upon one's weakness’.
Countless professional deaths & murders,
By calling us team, family and as friends.

Lesson: In a cruel world, teach thy kids how to fight,
For survival and for their future to be bright.
Live life to the fullest, help needy but don’t expect,
Nothing from anyone, whole life will be perfect.
It is a lesson from her,
And she is the greatest in my life, my mother.
My parents blessings and love has become my lifeline,
Which I will never let go in vain…

Conclusion: Lucky are the ones whose mothers starve,
To ensure her portions, children can have.
My mothers prayers to all the gods with her weeping,
for protecting me from evil and to continue guarding.
Her cries and prayers was heard,
By the great gods she trusted for her ward.
The only person who suffers all,
It was her, whose pain was to see my survival.

By
Sanji-Paul Arvind
When I realized, soul departing,
Remembering, whole life, a cloud passing.
An infant playing in a mothers lap,
As a kid for mistakes, getting a slap.

Walking with dad, hand in hand,
A person who is a magical wand,
Fulfilling our small wishes,
As we were his prince or princess.

Crying to go to school,
Later not wanting to return, was awful,
Carrying heavy loads of bag,
Bunking and walking with a swag.

Getting addicted for a cigarettes drag,
Gave confidence, felt an act to brag,
Getting high with drinks,
A day wasted, passed in brinks.

Unaware of value of the time,
For your younger self, it was a crime,
When opportunities knocked,
unable to understand, I kicked.

Never understood, true love of parents,
with regret, missing all those moments.
Not knowing what I have, to cherish,
I do now, on my way to perish.

Love, life and wife,
all cut by death as a knife,
The first touch and kiss,
A memorable moment I will miss.

As I see my body lying,
Only loved ones around weeping,
For them we are important,
the rest were not even present.

All those people that we hanged out,
In my last days, never heard my shout,
Value life, time, family, friends,
Only these will be beside us when life ends.

Unfortunate event, from self, parting,
Cannot even say goodbye, its haunting,
This body, connected to a soul,
From birth till last, played a wonderful role.

By
Sanji-Paul Arvind
CJ Sutherland Mar 19
Good Samaritan

Or nemesis in us all

Who will win the fight

Each will show themselves in time

Who wins the one you feed chose


Tanka haiku.  
5 lines 31 syllables



Inspired Songs

1) the Good Samaritan
Lyric Video YouTube 2009
Children’s worship song
about compassion and kindness
Luke 10: 25-37

Nemesis2015
By Benjamin Clementine

Footnote
Every day all day long, we make choices between doing something good or doing something bad evil. Each of us have the capacity to be the good Samaritan or to be somebody’s nemesis. And the person we choose in the path we take is predicated on who we are and what we feed
Most people don’t know ,in the parable of the good Samaritan. The injured  man on the ground was the Samaritan’s worst enemy. His nemesis. Yet he showed kindness and passion.paying for his care.
If you're afraid to speak,
Come with me.
I'll teach you how to use a pen,
So you may write it out.
Because if you can write,
Someone else can speak it for you.
Words are power
neth jones Mar 14
love bulges  and it's all  geography              
worlds  words  and lust-letters  seem so tenderized
but it's on paper   folded
origami    and our love now has geometry              
      and the side effect of death  is the loss of memory

     love whispers  whimpers  then is vague again
until new moon and tide   and then a **** molding
where it may proven   in public
once again  a ***** idolatry
[note : used  public / *****  before.. self plagiarizing ?]
jewel Mar 3
there’s a clear distinction between getting what you want
and wanting more than what you can get, she says,
kneeling in front of a piping hot kettle and a small bowl
accompanied by a humorously small bamboo whisk.

Bug-Eye looks at me. the meaning of a sentence is lost in the hexes of her wings, her spindly thin abdomen, the way her fragile limbs twitch.

she tries to smile. she doesn’t. i turn to the murky pool in front of me, losing myself in the way the petals relax on such a delicate surface. the air is thick with heat. i collect more than enough sweat upon my forehead.

you need not ask for more than what you have. nor ask for less than what you deserve.
but why? my reply lingered between us like an afterthought.
why ask when you could have more? the clink of china, the unsteady stirring irritates me with her ungraceful, jerking movements. Bug-Eye relaxes. silence. the grove is clear.

she turns the cup in her hands, once, twice, thrice; her spindly fingers tracing the grooves of a world not yet explored. her eyes watch me closely. all five hundred of them. i turn away
to watch how the koi fish do not swim through the water, but
become stagnant in a place the water feels best.
we kneel on the grass, sipping the green tea as quietly as one can. that is all i am left with.

perhaps this is the reason why i do not ask for more;
nor deserve any less, because
we simply are given with all that we need.
copyrighted, poemsbyjewel (2025).
Always read more than you write,
Enjoy more than you dislike,
Critique less than you praise,
But critique none the less.
Though if you come to doubt,
Sing more than you are silent,
Walk more than you are still,
Then pick up the pen once again.
If you somber, write all that is sad,
Yet if you rejoice, write only the praises of the sun,
Though if you laugh, soon you will cry,
Only to know the beautiful cycle of life.
A pocket book for every new poet.
Today you turned up washed,
Almost if a wave passed through the sheets of your bed.
Your hair is a mess,
As you etch a careful drawing in pen.
Careful to not miss a mark,
There's no erasing it,
Or anything you've done.
I've watched her learn every day of this month, you can't erase the things you've done.
No water nor tea can quench an inhuman thirst.
That which one cannot have
becomes the object of obsession.
Delusional desires spiral,
the soul caves in,
and all that remains
is this lesson you were given.
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