December Deluge -Romantic Goddess

Romantic Goddess

I had a chance meeting with her in October

A rotund face and a slim figure I remember,

It is a surprise she gave me her number

O My God! I checked if I were in stupor

 

At first short sweet messages flowered

 Hotter messages later showered

She invited me to her place in the city

A lonely place too what a serendipity

 

Her gaze was stunning it is a romantic Pilot

She threw a smile the meeting's highlight

But I’m afraid it’s a charade played by God

Because I trust my destiny is a bit skewed

 

I could not advance albeit lust me hounded

scared of the consequences remained dead

The Goddess looked kindly and laid her hands

my heart throbbed and nerves played bands

 

For the long marathon time is the witness

For sure she is a divine romantic goddess

Damsel or bombshell

When my phone rang, I sat under the twilit sky

I felt shy cuz it was her romantic whisper

I took the call and felt her voice was crisper

Her words and breath woke the romantic guy

 

In me after all words are more seductive

they are the powerful arrows of cupid

 that can instantly charge any stupid

 Only a few know words are productive

 

when the nature was singing aubade

I sat in front of her the Goddess

 she looked like a hungry tigress

I began feeling the honey cascade

 

She pressed me to the window

I've seen real damsel after ages

 oh! What an incredible libido

 that spreads on to pages and pages

 

It is hard to forget such a damsel

She is not a damsel but a bombshell

Surreal - English Poem - Poolabala

Love is love when it's mutual and factual

Love isn't love when it's platonic or sadistic 

Love is realistic, not mystic and surrealistic

Love needs body and nobody says its bawdy.

   

Love breathes passions and promises

Love lives in dreams and in schemes

Love doesn’t mind losses and gains

Love rebels frets and repels regrets 

Love brings strains and recounts refrains

Making love is what keeps it in tact

without that there’s no love in fact

love is poorly realistic without that act

when love is platonic it's purely sadistic

When I touch your stuff it’s just enough

that my buff gets twitches and itches

my bouncing libido pounces and jounces

and trounces and we remain victorious

Darling, take me tight into your arms

Mangle me till I get the thunderstorms

Strangle me with your hot charms

Give me the love that I long longed for

The Bridge - English Poem - Poolabala

The bridge is where I always hang

It’s where the sweet love bells rang

It is where the wet primroses sang

And I forget the hunger pang 

It is where the winds whisper

The azure sky seems crisper

It is where two hearts unwind

It is where the love is enshrined

The bridge is where I always hang

It’s where art from my heart sprang

It’s where bodies thong, hearts twang

Later in memories they boomerang

Lo! Beyond the bridge lies a world

Where sweet dreams get unfurled

It’s where you scream and I scream

Together we eat yummy Ice cream

That always makes the love extreme

The bridge is where the lovers kindle

Their hopes to save them from dwindle

It’s where two souls meet their sweet goals

Up! Up! Cheer up my friend!

Peel off the sad thoughts

up! up! cheer up my friend
Yesterday was not the end
you just learn to transcend
you are my beautiful friend

up! up! cheer up my friend
come out of the sad feeling
why are you to them kneeling
They'are your charm stealing
It comes with simple peeling

Sad thoughts are like dark spots
Right now remove the nasty dots
For sure you need a great healing
Better feeling, comes with peeling

why do you look so glum?
what is the strange scum!
come on! you are n't a nerd
Oh! your heart is a sweet bird
up! up! cheer up my friend

Listen to the throstle yonder
Her melody is a great wonder
It isn't really worth to squander
Your life for someone's blunder

Oh honey bee don't lose the key
Embrace nectar with glee!

Queen of Guns

She is the queen of guns, she is full of guts

She plays with any gun and it's a simple fun

Her push makes the game go great guns
She wants more and more bun the buns

She's anonymous, autonomous lady killer

She always dons low cut denim jeans

that show her splendid round moons.

their charm evokes love monsoons.

Oh! the man in you swoons 

Their liquid motion evoke goddamn passion

Her knee high boots augment her booty

O My God! she is untamable beauty  

She is the home made gun she's the shank

Oh! Thunder chunks -Oh! bun the buns

She is the lady killer her name is revolver

she's a resolver, romantic thriller gives a chiller,

she is so chic , she is so quick.  

she has the drive she wants to drive 

she plays with daggers but loves the guns

she is ultimate in wielding  the revolver

she likes cocking the hammer , squeezing the trigger

she never misses the aim she is meant for the game

she looks chic  she is quick she loves the pique

She is the queen of guns, she is full of guts
She hates shotguns who twiddle their thumbs

she has stunning looks, and bouncing globes

She is lady killer, she gives you chiller

She has the sacred hunger

She is an acrid hunter.

she plays the game of love

with the passion of a gambler

She is insatiable lover

ever ready for a new encounter 

she has ceaseless vigilance

she's hostile with virulence

Her passion has a tinge of pungence

finally she has a bit of belligerence

Missiles in her smiles, cannons her eyes,

she does the staking  before love making 

She is the queen of guns she is a queen of hearts.

Jesus - English and the Gullible People

Are Jesus and English a part of Cultural Imperialism?

Extending a country's power and influence through colonization, use of military force, or other means is called imperialism. There are several ways to occupy other countries, language and religion are the most powerful of them all. The English always established the superiority of their language and their religion. The Gullible people believed them.

How the English carry out their imperialism?
The English always establish superiority of their language and religion. Fool believe them. They say Jesus is the only God or the best God. Your Gods are not Gods. English is the best language. Your languages are not languages. Learn English we give you work. Pray to Jesus we give you bread.
When English becomes dominant, other languages naturally disappear. Languages spoken by small communities could become extinct as people learn English in order to find work. This would obviously have a negative effect on local cultures, customs and traditions because the new dominant language would bring its own culture with it. For example, the expansion of English has paved way to the increasing popularity of American culture. The American film, music and fashion industries are as dominant as global American companies and products, such as Microsoft or the iPod. This is ‘cultural imperialism’

Stolen Horse Trilogy (Thrill and Memory ) Part 3

Sable Island, thou art crescent in the Atlantic,
What if your epithet is graveyard of Atlantic
Thou hast fresh water ponds, rare plants
perchance thou art the purest  on the earth

 Oh sable Island thou art a land of wild horses
A floating synagogue art thou make me agog
Ah! Nature steals glances and benumbs senses
Caresses birds of rare species, fences the lenses

Lo! How lovely when the sun shines on low pines
I can forget the whole world but not the old times
Oh! Rolland, write a lyric on my horse in Scotland
Oh! Orpheus' your music can coax rocks

My heart is nestled in the Roxburgh castle
The horse ride turned into an eternal grapple
with memories vicious I am another Sisyphus
Oh maestros together this fuss you tackle

Oh so swift my memories drift ….
In Greece a few miles off the centre of Athens.
In Yabanaki beach the yik yak women in stains
Cozy up with men, their charm is deadly fire
Triggered by their hypnotic beauty, love transpire
We find men and women coiling, the beech boiling


Oh so swift my memories drift to Roxburg castle
Roxburg! replays on my mind  over and over
Like a conjurer it makes my spirits hover and hover
stunner is the mare  like seductress in my head meander

The sun’s smiling on the yarrows blooming
Vibrant with wild horses and vagrant birds.
Tuk  tuk how charming is the drumming of Frigat
Trilling  calls to his mate in a spate
blowing his scarlet throat.

What a bewitching beauty! Sable Island
what an escape into exotic lush landscape
In serenity of the island my hearts murmurs!
What a transfixing beauty! the black horse
Quel instant épatant avec le cœur palpitant

The act of adventure is gone bye
But the beautiful memories still fly
Like butterflies in my mind’s eye

After the man dies his spirit lives on
After the ride the memories hang on
What an unprecedented marathon
Those moments in my head persist
And me to distant islands transport

The horse once I rode is in Roxburgh fort                     
but the memories me ride now and exhort                     
They rock my body and knock at my mind                       
The pleasure of gallant ride lives in breath                                   
The pride of ride doesn't fade until my death.