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of Conversations and few martyrs: July 2011
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Of Conversations and few martyrs. The shame, dread, and fear and much more. Tuesday, July 12, 2011. After a very very very long time with meaningless commas and few thoughts. Let me think with my thoughts intake, then i will write. Posted by Jayanta Oinam. Links to this post. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Live your own time, child, sing about your time. View my complete profile. After a very very very long time with meaningless . The Allen Ginsberg Project. Jim Carroll Workshop - 8 - Q and A (Power Chords).
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of Conversations and few martyrs: July 2009
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Of Conversations and few martyrs. The shame, dread, and fear and much more. Thursday, July 2, 2009. I Stopped Praying For The Death! I stopped praying for the death,. It bears no fruit, even if the dead has got any womb. I stopped praying for myself,. It doesn’t suit my scheme, even if I had to wake up early. I stopped praying for my brothers,. It doesn’t make them patriots, even if they die fighting for the land. Oh, I stopped praying for the peace,. From today, I promised to myself, thus….
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of Conversations and few martyrs: The Truth!
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Of Conversations and few martyrs. The shame, dread, and fear and much more. Wednesday, March 10, 2010. They said: ‘It’s the blaring truth,. Of the time.’ I said: ‘No, it’s the mute truth, of our time.’. Then he said: ‘You both are wrong. There is no truth, at all! Thus, the eternal argument continues. Me taking. Many a avatars, like incarnations with my own truth;. They waiting for me to arrive, every time the flood recedes. And He, ever present like the truth itself, but doing nothing.
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of Conversations and few martyrs: No title
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Of Conversations and few martyrs. The shame, dread, and fear and much more. Wednesday, March 10, 2010. Unable to sleep, with my unwritten poems swimming in my head. And waiting for my body to succumbed, I waited for someone. To give me company, and came. With one his innocuous poems, about a lucky blouse. And his poems; all proud and ready to confess. Why he chose his wife’s chest to write in poems. And why he can’t buy a decent cloth for her! With my marriage looming, I am thinking of my nights.
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of Conversations and few martyrs: Still-death!
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Of Conversations and few martyrs. The shame, dread, and fear and much more. Wednesday, March 10, 2010. That’s how I saw myself. Walking through these graves. I carry with myself burdens of deprivation. Seeking poems of happier times. In recollection, in remembrance. Of happier times, when. The streets echoed with poems of abundance. But this deprivation that. I harvested for myself. It carried me afar, far from my home. In the unknown streets. Leading to the graves. Walking naked in those graves.
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of Conversations and few martyrs: September 2009
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Of Conversations and few martyrs. The shame, dread, and fear and much more. Sunday, September 20, 2009. She went home searching for a new reason. And send me a season. Wrapped in the colour of blood. And here, i called myself a red. Like a message wrapped besieged. Within the realm of sisterhood. It brings me spirits from home. And, I continue to dream. For a fasting soul. Many a feasts look meagre,. The hunger will never die. And the spirits will never rest. You judge them for snorts. But for a dream.
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of Conversations and few martyrs: Poetic Dreams (for Poems)!
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Of Conversations and few martyrs. The shame, dread, and fear and much more. Friday, March 12, 2010. Poetic Dreams (for Poems)! Unable to meet their demands during the daytime. Poems, they come haunting in my dreams. Disguising sometimes as my beloved. Sometimes as sworn enemies. And sometimes, bringing caskets full of flowers. Found only in Manipur, like girls going to temple. I know my beloved she doesn’t languor in the night. Yes, except when my bouts demand her comfort. That I ordered from Japan.
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of Conversations and few martyrs: The Misreading (of Time)!
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Of Conversations and few martyrs. The shame, dread, and fear and much more. Wednesday, March 10, 2010. The Misreading (of Time)! As a result of a continuous living,. I have learnt the misreading of time. It has indeed helped me understand. The vulgar it carries with the living,. And the breezy lies of time. And the moments that carry the tinged hope. But as the misreading goes. Without any comma or semi colon,. This living becomes a thick morass. Of seconds and minutes;. Chiming against the rim of faith,.
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of Conversations and few martyrs: To the Shirt!
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Of Conversations and few martyrs. The shame, dread, and fear and much more. Wednesday, March 10, 2010. In this season of fake,. Giving me an identity. And representing me wherever I go about. And humming in their tunes! You allow me to live this life. In this season of tardiness. Playing my own body. Like a poor man’s cruse. Empty though, yet fill with pride. I have no qualms living like this. Carrying you, instead of my body;. In fact, my body. It befits a décor for borrowed coffins,. Ready to be buried.
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of Conversations and few martyrs: March 2010
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Of Conversations and few martyrs. The shame, dread, and fear and much more. Friday, March 12, 2010. Poetic Dreams (for Poems)! Unable to meet their demands during the daytime. Poems, they come haunting in my dreams. Disguising sometimes as my beloved. Sometimes as sworn enemies. And sometimes, bringing caskets full of flowers. Found only in Manipur, like girls going to temple. I know my beloved she doesn’t languor in the night. Yes, except when my bouts demand her comfort. That I ordered from Japan.
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