Mohit Just's Library tagged → View Popular, Search in Google
isolation is the gift,
all the others are a test of your endurance, of
how much you really want to do it.
and you’ll do it
despite rejection and the worst odds
and it will be better than
anything else
you can imagine.
if you’re going to try,
go all the way.
there is no other feeling like that.
you will be alone with the gods
and the nights will flame with fire.
Which dream is this, that is unfolding
Whose blood is that boiling
Whose breath is that full of fire
Whose steps are faltering but holding
Words that are smouldering
Heart beat that is emboldening
Whose steps sound like an army marching
Who is this awaken
You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass
But your final reward will be heartache and tears
If you've cheated the man in the glass.
I have my own shop now
Sell happiness from Juneau to Japan
If you don’t have credit cards, even debit cards will do
I also take post dated checks
Even a friendly hug will do
One door I leave untouched
some doors even love can’t open
I wonder if you will notice
one missing picture from so many
I take the skeletons out of your cupboard
lock the door behind me
and throw the keys as I walk away
A mans life must be measured
only on his passing
Consider me dead
don’t hold me a wake
judge my deeds
find me guilty and exile me
let the memory be a grain of sand
in the eyes of the travelers
who came so far
to curse me at my grave
You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when white wings of death scatter your days.
Aye, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds
In the bookstore, I inhale deep.
A high. Perhaps from glue. Or
from this new memory of you.
I leave without buying. I have
buried my face in a few books.
For tonight, this smell of paper
will have to do.
We encounter each other in words, words spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed; words to consider, reconsider.
We cross dirt roads and highways that mark the will of someone and then others who said, "I need to see what's on the other side; I know there'
Prasoon's evocative & introspective poem, written after the mumbai terror attacks
The little one’s eyes are squeezed shut.
In concentration, she prays.
Her mother looks at her with amusement
and love. What do you want kannamma?
To do well in the Maths test tomorrow?
The little one shakes her head. Her gold
earrings vehemently disagree
My memory is like a sieve..
The things I forget, you wouldn't believe.
Things like where I put the keys;
What I'm doing with this handful of cheese;
What was the name of that young girl
Whom I met at the party that was such a whirl?
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune—I myself am good fortune;
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing, 5
Strong and content, I travel the open road.
The earth—that is sufficient;
I do not want the constellations any near
Shel Silverstein's poem, Smart, will tickle your student's funnybones and teach lessons about the value of money at the same time! A printable Adobe .pdf file of the poem below is provided for classroom use.
"Touch the wooden gate in the wall you never
saw before.
Say "please" before you open the latch,
go through,
walk down the path."
Do read the rest. It's beautiful. And oh, so true.
Let us just keep things this way
And not forward move nor backward go
Let every day be just like this day
A restless peace, and no one to know.
Let us wander on a path that’s winding
No signpost at bridge and bend
Never seeking and so never finding
That
राख कितनी राख है, चारों तरफ बिखरी हुई,
राख में चिनगारियां ही देख अंगारे न देख।
आज हमारा न चाहना
हमारी चुप्पी में
चाहने की स्वीकृति ही तो है
तालियों से झर रही है शर्म
उतर रहे हैं कपड़े
और देख रहे हैं हम
आश्चर्य की शृंखला में
जुड़ते हुए अपने नाम।
उन्होंने मुझसे पूछा -
क्या करेंगे जानकर कि
अयोध्या में बसकर भी क्यों उदास रहते थे पागलदास।
उन्होंने कहा-
क्यों उदास हैं आप बनारस में
बुद्ध कपिलवस्तु में
कालिदास उज्जयिनी में
फसलें खेतों में
पत्तियाँ वृक्षों पर, लोग दिल्ली में, पटना में
दुनिया जहान में क्
सौ ग्राम हल्दी,
पचास ग्राम जीरा
छींट जाने से तबाह नहीं होती ज़िंदगी,
पर क्या करूँ
छोटे-छोटे नुकसानों को गाता रहता हूँ
हर अपने बेगाने को सुनाता रहता हूँ
अपने छोटे-छोटे दुख ।...
मैं बहुत कम तेल वाला दीया हूँ
हल्की हवा भी बहुत है
मुझे बुझाने के लिए।
छोटा ह
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