For my lovely Debate Partner Sneha
(2014)
This is day 13 of my month long Rondelet marathon! I wrote this in light of procrastination of my debate partner and I! I understand this is more of a personal level poem so, my apologies.
#DebateFailurePartnerPreparednessProcrastinationRondelet
Homicidal And Honorable: synonyms. Homicidal: Requisite for glory, vital To one’s worth. It’s the pseudony…
He’s a 'poet’ but most would rather call it pros… He’s a 'poet’ Still somehow nobody knows it. Literary elements? Close.
Steam rises From falling water’s collisions. Steam rises Coagulates, coats, chokes: Sizes Me to just a condensation
She waxes and wanes; Waxing when emboldened by time. She waxes and wanes; Waning when She humbly refrains. She fades to little more than a li…
I write sorrow It’s no matter how much I strain. I write sorrow. My scripts cast over by shadows. Lyrics I compose show pain
Your contentment is an illusion Not to say your existence is bulls… But it’s hardly reality as it shou… We all have heard some persuasion of what manipulates us, it
Prepare to fail; Winning isn’t for everyone. Prepare to fail. Perfection is a far off tale. All expect it, though we know none…
Misunderstood assumed to be a heretic Misunderstood unable to accept what he should; counter to his religion picked—
An instrument of chipping glaze an… Though it is seldom played in pres… the wear of glee’s remnants tint t… Dust glides through the air, drift… The open window disturbs it’s peac…
Tu es nicht mehr, bitte, Herr, weil ich kann nicht. Tu es nicht mehr, bitte, die Schmerzen sind sehr sch… Weisst du wenigstens Augenblick,
It’s not over. Russian, Japanese, African— It’s not over. We think it’s gone, it’s just olde… Don’t dismay, though Love it can.
Violence cycles Both within lands and between them… Violence cycles Through lords of loss, maniacal. Leaves ruins of nations dim,
Arbitrary and, I guess, insignificant Arbitrary makes me revolutionary. One time around, for me, glinting
Four part cycle The best mark is leaves– rise and… Four part cycle Water falls, pools, to icicles. The cardinal winds always call
If that were all I’d rest, speak to myself solely. If that were all I could delight in pretty song. Truly, it’s the cries of wings, lo…