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Premarital fun

She may like you, love you and have a crush.
She may flirt with you and move hand in hand.
She shuts herself to physical intimacy.
Women are mostly commitment phobic.

He may pursue you and fall at your knee.
He may lavish on you words and gifts.
He does not intend to marry you.
Men as a whole are commitment phobic.

Let him and her have crush for each other.
Let them meet, chat, and fondle together.
No heaven will fall, rather it opens.
Yes, they are commitment phobic.

Unadulterated, men and women
Will have no qualm when they marry
And can lead their life with a light heart,
Notwithstanding their premarital fun.
16.08.2006

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Fresh Breeze

The fresh wind blows to refresh the soul
This feeling is so refreshing that I never want to let go of it
As the beautiful feeling of living this honest life is much better
Although, the price is surely to be paid and it is of being lonely and unwanted
Never, do I want to let go of this feeling since it actually establishes a beginning
Which is of being true to oneself by learning to struggle
Resisting is often not an easy thing to do, however it teaches
To live life it teaches
It educates to be a honest soul
Although, it is not essential that a truthful individual is always unadulterated
Live and let live by letting the fresh breeze blow.

poem by Rohit Sapra
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Point Of Decision

There is a point of decision one reaches in one's life,
When a stripping away of pretentions from them...
As well as those still participating in that false activity,
Are no longer needed to condon with patience.

And with it an unexpected abruptness is conducted.
An exit done as shown and felt as necessary is done.
With an increasing of one's mental clarity unclouding,
That welcomes the arrival of one's unadulterated honesty.

With a caring less as to who has to say what about it!
Since what takes place is a change that is inevitable.
And the feeding of a mind on a path of growth,
Can not be stopped or wished away like a diet of choice.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Behaving Like Monkeys!

revolution, evolution...
the lid to the mayonnaise jar,
contemplates.
blackberries, strawberries,
and blueberries mingle on a plate,
perhaps plotting upheaval.
the leaf from the oak
blown onto the needles of the pine,
his brothers yell, 'dont be too long,
you might be converted.'
rainwater running from a rusted gutter,
repentance, absolution?
the leaf being formed, an unseen bud,
on a snow covered limb...
DNA?
the stray cat lays down with the dogs,
neath the spider's gigantic web.
the grass runs naked in the dew,
we know! moonlight saw them!
and mountains embrace whichever cloud comes,

[...] Read more

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Curiosity Killed The Bachelor

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.
the same is my approached to you, for now I’m like a kid on crack:
Twitching, and restless when you’re not with me, on a high when you are.
Like a caveman knocking on a stone, I knock on your door, now, I have fire.
Crimson and beautiful - love deeper than that which is raw.
Unadulterated and immense, exactly what my soul searched for.
Searched for days, months, years, but came up with lack,
Beaten and broken by relationships’ whips, now pride rests on my back.
Pride in love, pride in hope, pride in life; and it is with pride that I ask 'Will you be my wife'? Curiosity brought me this far, love would complete the task!

Copyright © 2009 Leslie Alexis

poem by Leslie Alexis
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Human Rights Violations

Human rights violations continue to plague the UN,
But their Human Rights Council is not bothered now, nor was it then,
As they publish serious distortion of actual events,
Their gang rapes goings on over there were people live in tents.

Despite some of their friends being involved in genocide - no report,
Even after being indicted by the International Criminal Court,
The whole UN and their Human Rights Council seem corrupt,
Canada’s forbidden entry to their Council was fierce and abrupt.

Their bent press releases are unadulterated propaganda,
We should pull out of their glass building, their wars, and their agenda,
These suggestions are unacceptable at the UN, I know,
But why should our democracy receive blow after blow?

Oct 21st,2010

poem by James Bredin
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A Temptation For Us All

I reached for you without any hesitation and I must reminisce.
You tempted me with your promise of sweet unadulterated bliss.
This temptation sometimes can not be controlled, almost everyone can relate.
This temptation I write of can strike most of us from nine to ninety, so do not hate.
This temptation I write about is the magical food we call chocolate, and it's a great sensation.
Chocolate comes in an array of sizes, colors and flavors, to my great frustration.
There is milk, Swiss, dark, white, and a vast array of other flavors of chocolate for us all to try.
On this temptation I can not lie, but if I don't get any chocolate soon I feel like I might just die.
There is even chocolate covered bacon to my fascination.
Oh chocolate, you lure me with the greatest temptation.

poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight
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Right Or Wrong

Don't know
If its right or wrong
To have followed you blindly like this,
But you held my hand
And lead my soul through it,
I guess,
Wherever you take me,
Its gonna lead me home,
My final journey 'home'.

Don't know
If its right or wrong
To feel the way I feel,
But I had a glimpse of your soul
As you held my stare,
And in its reflection
I had seen myself
Pure,
Unadulterated,
Angel like.

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poem by Anjali Kakati
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Ponnaga

Placenta night gathered
Thickness as mucous
On that unlighted lane
There on that rain-soaked lane
I chanced upon them scattered
And gleaming bright white
In the pools of light the car threw up
On the rain-drenched tar-
Five petals with long stems
Under a tree that still sent
A shower whenever the leaves willed
I pulled my car aside
And rushed to meet them
To gather a forgotten childhood for once
One two three…
The petals coated with damp mud
And the yellowishgreen stems
Hidden by the dark tar
Queerly exuding a forty year old perfume
Gathered once upon a time

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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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The Spring and I

What is it about a springtime morn
that makes me feel I've just been born?
Is it the air smelling so sweet
that creates for me a new heartbeat?
Or the blossoming petals all anew
that creates new visions for me to view?

Maybe it's the tranquil blue skies
that's encouraged me to arise
and see the world differently
with uninformed opinions
an unadulterated sensitivity
that makes me feel brand new.

Maybe it's the springtime rain
that falls with purpose and poise
like a lullabye devoid of noise
that soothes my newness and my form.
Is that what makes me feel newborn?
If it is then let it rain each morn.

[...] Read more

poem by Edwina Reizer
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