Novel & Cerita Your Daily Poem

Wrote: _Day 38. Mother’s Day Picnic. We did a crowd. We did school. We did ‘us’ out loud._ _June 2nd: 25 days. We tell the court. Then we live._ _3 AM means always._ _—Mama_ _Silence. 7:04 PM._ Adrian read it. Over my shoulder. 70 BPM. “Then we live,” Adrian repeated. Quiet. Fact. Promise. “I like that part.”

The eighth was at Kolkata Airport smoking zone. If you see her, give her this poem: There’s that fireball in the south-west, in a homeward spree, wondering “What now, at the end of the day? I say in jest, “You and me!” I turn away from the yellow shroud: and it’s your hazel-eyes I see. Sleep woken or dream broken, entangled or untangled, love burnt or hate soaked, praised here or blamed there, dealt with or dealt in

It’s on daily update. Love, Suxi

**** Aaj hum nahi, kal Humari Yaadein hongi Jab hum na honge, Tab humari baatein hongi. Kabhi paltoge zindagi ke Ye panne, To shayad aapki aankhon se Bhi barsaatein hongi.... (Today I am here, but tomorrow There will be my memories, If I will not be here There will be the talks of mine) (If you will turn the pages Of life Then I think you will also cry Remembering me) **** Marna to sabko ek na ek din padega.

For me you are just ordinary, not a romantic figure Not a single poetic figure When I'm by your side I feel comfortable When you go there is a little miss that fairy For me, you are a friend, a friend in times of joy and sorrow Your presence makes me smile, all tiredness and confusion in the chest are gone You are a simple person, face the day with a smile 1000 prayers for you my love, healthy body, healthy also your sustenance Choose you with prayer, string hope with bismillah Wading together, getting to know each other from time to time, both in joy and in sorrow Love poetry will not be able to say, love poetry will flow by itself. SINTIA

I will write a poem and I'll read it to Mom tomorrow," I answered. The days arrived calm and breezing, Everybody was bustling from travelling, Then you came to me without and hesitations, Giving me friendly and adorable expressions. The days were bright and shining for a while, And here you are looking at me with a smile, You always make me a way to catch my attention, Congratulations! You are now my immersion. The days proceeded moody and leaves were falling, Yet you are still there to keep me aspiring, Those sleepless nights that you showed my worth, I thought you were truly down to earth, The days come cold, Same as your heart's constantly changing, You eventually manifested your true col

You should see hers. He reads it out, in a voice worthy of Television, as though he were standing before an audience. The poet can be poem-less. The writer, word-less And the warrior sword-less. With you, I am not lovel— "Okay, " I say "that's enough for one day.".

#Day 5 Tick tock, tick tock time goes on, but my life is stuck, my brain always going through a turmoil of emotions and storm of bitter memories, but my life has come to a stand still, you know why is that, because no matter how many storm comes, you still stand in the middle of it completely unaffected and rooted to your place, like a fucking stubborn leech, sucking my life out of me. ................................................. #Day 6 Today I looked myself in the mirror, I have wide black shadows under my eyes, I am loosing weight at the rate which will make me extinct from the face of Earth within a month or two. I am alive on sleeping pills which will put me to sleep to give way to

You're full of surprises, I hope you don't clone. You're truly special, in a very unique way, I know you're expensive, for last month, I must pay. I must say, I'd never trade, You seem determined, when I am afraid. I do love you, a super great deal, Your humorous ways, certainly heal. You better place, this poem in a frame, Otherwise, I'll just change the name. Just remember, you're my special daughter, Now please be kind, and bring me some water.

Maybe one day my talent will get me somewhere better in life. Ah ,grief, I should not treat you like a homeless dog, who comes to the back door for a crust,for a meatless bone , I should trust you. I should coax you into the house and give you, your own corner,a worn mat to lie on, your own water dish . You think I don't know you've been living under my porch. You long for your real place to be readied before winter comes . You need your name, your collar and tag, you need the right to warn off intruders, to consider my house your own and me your person and yourself my own dog . A poem by Denise Levertov.