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thoughts

Anger On Nose Tip.


The anger sits on the nose
rather on the tip of the nose
with the cartilage bloating
and the bridge rising
the nose twitches for no reason
as if it has smelt a treason
the mouth then enters the game
spitting out words lame
cursing images (45) and stinging all through
like to get away from such men
teaching them a lesson then
should be undertaken without fear
as otherwise they would go in a square.

Categories
thoughts

What Are We made Off?


Neither do I nor do you know

what we are made of.

Saying we are of blood and flesh

bones and nerves  in abundance

skin and hair most visible

give us a picture of  outside perception

The inward eye and heart

the feeling  and expression

the sentiment and experience

go to work on the blood

giving it a tension and hypertension

call upon the flesh mostly

allowing it to sag and grow baggy

try to make the bones brittle and worn out

while the nerves get a break down

while the skin wrinkles and loses shine

and the hair Flesh...Blood.full.422688recede and falls

leaving one aged and bald,

Can anyone tell me what we are made off?

authentically and in a promise.

 

 

 

 

 

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Actions analogue Architecture bricks Creation Environment Evolution Experience Interpretation learning Lost melancholy Poem stone subscriptions

A Stony Talk.


bones and nervesstones and bricksThe stones and bricks are not lifeless as they seem.
They know much more than we comprehend in a seam.
They have witnessed many a quarrel and in fight of the team.
They have enjoyed the happiness and pleasure in a gleam.

The thought brings to mind the functions of bones and nerves.
The bones give shape to the Man’s curves
The nerves sustain his laborious serves.
Both give him facilities more than he deserves.

The stones brave the wind and weather.
They withstand with a spirit dying never.
The bricks deliver a sustenance forever.
Both together propose a structural grandeur.

The loud laughter penetrates through the stones.
The tearful cries strike the bricks in a repeated hone.
Mirth knocks the doors not alone.
Sorrow crosses the porch in a subdued tone.

The stones chuckle sonorously when they are disturbed terribly.
The bricks rattle fiercely when the wind blows rudely
They cause a furore in the dim night endlessly.
They shudder mildly in the starless darkness dolefully.

Never shun the stones of a house as lifeless.
Never condemn bricks of a house as useless.
They have recorded messages countless.
They have staged dramatic episodes nevertheless