saszz.blogspot.com

мечты

I tell stories. In verses. Wednesday, June 3, 2015. Had I the heaven's gilded clock,. Enwrought with the past, future and the present,. The dusk and the dawn and the nature's scent. Of gods and demigods and the devil's age,. I would spread the clocks under your feet;. But I, being poor, have only my time. I have spread my hours under your feet;. Tread softly because you tread on my time. Due apologies to Mr Yeats - I borrowed your rhythm. For they say that imitation is the best form of flattery.

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мечты | saszz.blogspot.com Reviews

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I tell stories. In verses. Wednesday, June 3, 2015. Had I the heaven's gilded clock,. Enwrought with the past, future and the present,. The dusk and the dawn and the nature's scent. Of gods and demigods and the devil's age,. I would spread the clocks under your feet;. But I, being poor, have only my time. I have spread my hours under your feet;. Tread softly because you tread on my time. Due apologies to Mr Yeats - I borrowed your rhythm. For they say that imitation is the best form of flattery.

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мечты | saszz.blogspot.com Reviews

https://saszz.blogspot.com

I tell stories. In verses. Wednesday, June 3, 2015. Had I the heaven's gilded clock,. Enwrought with the past, future and the present,. The dusk and the dawn and the nature's scent. Of gods and demigods and the devil's age,. I would spread the clocks under your feet;. But I, being poor, have only my time. I have spread my hours under your feet;. Tread softly because you tread on my time. Due apologies to Mr Yeats - I borrowed your rhythm. For they say that imitation is the best form of flattery.

INTERNAL PAGES

saszz.blogspot.com

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мечты: August 2014

http://saszz.blogspot.com/2014_08_01_archive.html

I tell stories. In verses. No posts. Show all posts. No posts. Show all posts. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Blogs I keep checking. When a poet writes. Simple template. Powered by Blogger.

2

мечты: October 2012

http://saszz.blogspot.com/2012_10_01_archive.html

I tell stories. In verses. Thursday, October 11, 2012. A Smoke. A Soul. A Poem. Liberal light flashes from the infinite sky. To convey the themes to a dawdling few. I believe a star winked at me and I could sense. The maddening dance of the lost soul anew. The star flickered again and winked twice. For I could not take the entire message. I winced as I received a secret surprise. Wondering the signs might be good for my passage. I cleared my eyes and focused on that star. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom).

3

мечты: March 2010

http://saszz.blogspot.com/2010_03_01_archive.html

I tell stories. In verses. Thursday, March 25, 2010. The patrol of the police. And the pyramid of force. Are stifling the bold. And snatching their power. The laws and the orders. Are cold,old and retold. They smiled and stood atop. With less interest to fight. The fool is all tight and set. And is on a liberal holiday. The learned has long left. Baffled in their mortal coil. They eat their breads, day by day. Unknown is the world outside. For they have less of concern. Links to this post.

4

мечты: December 2009

http://saszz.blogspot.com/2009_12_01_archive.html

I tell stories. In verses. Sunday, December 20, 2009. Raw places and unlike times,. Paths cross and paths mire. A lunatic meets a fanatic. Over a drink mixed with wine. The reasons they had within,. Time jested at them,. A finding flowered therein. An opinion is smooth,. If sensed for long. To follow up on a view,. That they felt so strong. Glad and drunk they are,. For the grounds unknown. Slightly twisted and torn,. A handsome thought is born. Up above the December sky. Bright specks cleared the way.

5

мечты: Dreams,Dreams

http://saszz.blogspot.com/2015/06/dreamsdreams.html

I tell stories. In verses. Wednesday, June 3, 2015. Had I the heaven's gilded clock,. Enwrought with the past, future and the present,. The dusk and the dawn and the nature's scent. Of gods and demigods and the devil's age,. I would spread the clocks under your feet;. But I, being poor, have only my time. I have spread my hours under your feet;. Tread softly because you tread on my time. Due apologies to Mr Yeats - I borrowed your rhythm. For they say that imitation is the best form of flattery.

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praveendhawan.blogspot.com

On Second Thought...: December 2008

http://praveendhawan.blogspot.com/2008_12_01_archive.html

EVERY MOMENT IS ANOTHER SHOT. Sunday, December 21, 2008. Question the intent, not the ability. Write something that all desire. Happy ending to say the least. Try not to explore the dark side. Instead go for “love in your arms”. And “happy animals in the farms.”. No big task, as it seems. If movies can do it, why can’t I. Just make up a story filled with sorrow. But end it with tears of joy. All those pitiful souls out there. Will look up to my work in need of inspiration. To fill their sad lives with joy.

praveendhawan.blogspot.com

On Second Thought...: My First Experience (SUB: Tired Mind, Own Master)

http://praveendhawan.blogspot.com/2015/07/my-first-experience-sub-tired-mind-own.html

EVERY MOMENT IS ANOTHER SHOT. Tuesday, July 21, 2015. My First Experience (SUB: Tired Mind, Own Master). Why was I even doing this? And the trickiest of all- was there a higher meaning to all this I was indulging in? THE CITY AND THE RACE. I had already packed some breakfast options from Mumbai, as I did not want to have something unfamiliar that might just break the balance. I did go out to the city-centre at night, just to distract myself and gobble up some burgers in the process. Talking about...The n...

praveendhawan.blogspot.com

On Second Thought...: June 2015

http://praveendhawan.blogspot.com/2015_06_01_archive.html

EVERY MOMENT IS ANOTHER SHOT. Friday, June 19, 2015. THEATRE OF DREAMS (Théâtre du Rêve). Not the sleep I wanted,. Or maybe I did;. But the dream was negative. The shouting was sore. Even behind the window pane. For the observer, it was a bane. The fight was intense. The faces were red. And when the breath was fed. Came out the words. Could disperse the herds. In all its glory. Looking to get a grip. To hold on to it, or flip! Unlike the girl across the door. That serene smile she bore. With a sudden pop.

praveendhawan.blogspot.com

On Second Thought...: February 2014

http://praveendhawan.blogspot.com/2014_02_01_archive.html

EVERY MOMENT IS ANOTHER SHOT. Saturday, February 8, 2014. The Novel. (Prequel). Motivation, none to be found. For writing a book is not the aim. Effort to put, with all details. Never liked the writing game. Pushing the pedal on the trail. Elevation too much for the frail. Maybe the body, maybe the bike. Maybe the rain, or the psych. Could be anything to blame. You keep on going, not giving up. Peak is the aim. Hoping for the descent, when the grip can go lose. The rotation stops, the pressure is off.

praveendhawan.blogspot.com

On Second Thought...: THEATRE OF DREAMS (Théâtre du Rêve)

http://praveendhawan.blogspot.com/2015/06/theatre-of-dreams.html

EVERY MOMENT IS ANOTHER SHOT. Friday, June 19, 2015. THEATRE OF DREAMS (Théâtre du Rêve). Not the sleep I wanted,. Or maybe I did;. But the dream was negative. The shouting was sore. Even behind the window pane. For the observer, it was a bane. The fight was intense. The faces were red. And when the breath was fed. Came out the words. Could disperse the herds. In all its glory. Looking to get a grip. To hold on to it, or flip! Unlike the girl across the door. That serene smile she bore. With a sudden pop.

praveendhawan.blogspot.com

On Second Thought...: December 2013

http://praveendhawan.blogspot.com/2013_12_01_archive.html

EVERY MOMENT IS ANOTHER SHOT. Tuesday, December 31, 2013. The story is there;. For 20 years of instances is a lot;. Some imagination to bring the flow;. And add fiction for story to grow. The travels and travails;. People and spiritual highs;. In the mountains, sea and dust. Still nothing on paper, ink untouched;. Why to write' ruling the mind;. When you'll get your answer;. Pick up that pen and will be born;. The greatest story of its kind;. Links to this post. Friday, December 27, 2013. Time is. go...

praveendhawan.blogspot.com

On Second Thought...: September 2009

http://praveendhawan.blogspot.com/2009_09_01_archive.html

EVERY MOMENT IS ANOTHER SHOT. Thursday, September 17, 2009. WHAT MATTER THY NAME. For the past has made you sick. To what you were and you’ll ever be. You cling on, on to it with force. But unforgiving is the carnage. Coz for people you’re along with. What matter thy damage? What you lived for, for all those years. The magic the touch, the touch of class. Your glory and name, name. No mood no time, no time is just an excuse. Single miss and you’re forgotten. The case is not supportive. Links to this post.

praveendhawan.blogspot.com

On Second Thought...: August 2011

http://praveendhawan.blogspot.com/2011_08_01_archive.html

EVERY MOMENT IS ANOTHER SHOT. Wednesday, August 17, 2011. You knew it won't last. Or now you so, that you knew. That once made you smile. For that extra mile. Seems surreal but yes it might. Immortal life, myth, hurts. Life: read love,) fight the floods. When feel fails, not the words. Things you do, you wish you won't. First to go, blessed. Them, reason or excuse. As you take the blues. Thinking not of what to come. Which might not be real. Yet happy whatever be the deal. Again from the past. Subscribe ...

praveendhawan.blogspot.com

On Second Thought...: November 2008

http://praveendhawan.blogspot.com/2008_11_01_archive.html

EVERY MOMENT IS ANOTHER SHOT. Sunday, November 9, 2008. That rebellious mood is back again. But the same two choices in front of you. Either do what you want to do. Or do what the world wants you to…. 8220;Fuck the world”, is what you’ll say. But one more option is added to the game. What you always wanted. The world expects you to do the same…. Now who would believe you followed yourself? Strangers taking credit in what you do. But one way out of this situation. Is to kill your wish, go for something new.

praveendhawan.blogspot.com

On Second Thought...: March 2009

http://praveendhawan.blogspot.com/2009_03_01_archive.html

EVERY MOMENT IS ANOTHER SHOT. Wednesday, March 25, 2009. Twenty-One or Unlucky Seven. Nothing for a change. To do or say. Never planned for this one moment. What to work for, what to expect. Sitting idle typing rubbish. Trying to be imperfect. Turn around 5 years back. You had a point to prove. Envy or insanity, nothing was untouched. Single focus, grand ambition. Took the task as a mission. Turn around 2 years back. Life as it never was. Friends and foes, plenty of them. For every stint and every cause.

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мечты

I tell stories. In verses. Wednesday, June 3, 2015. Had I the heaven's gilded clock,. Enwrought with the past, future and the present,. The dusk and the dawn and the nature's scent. Of gods and demigods and the devil's age,. I would spread the clocks under your feet;. But I, being poor, have only my time. I have spread my hours under your feet;. Tread softly because you tread on my time. Due apologies to Mr Yeats - I borrowed your rhythm. For they say that imitation is the best form of flattery.

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