Lived I,
Dreamt I
With Bobby
On my mind
And in my heart.
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A cigarette-smoker
Life is smokes,Smokes, smokes smoking,Life filled with ashes and smokes,Smokes and ashes.
Whose urn is this? ,
Hanging fromThe peepul treeBy the banks of the hamlet river?Whose,Whose asthi-kalasha is this,Whose,Whose urn is it?
Eklavya, your thumb,
As gurudakshina!
Freeing tension, pressure
Untaxing the mind,Offloading the brain,Freeing from all tension and pressure,Let you prevail in silence,Silence, silence enveloping you,Encircling youAnd you silent, all silent,Free, free from it allThat binds you,Keeps you in pressure or tension.
Bob Dylan as a poet
Poetry as the songs and lyrics of modern culture and livingA representative American for the country, folk, chapel, jazz, rap, rock’ n’ roll & bluesLyrics as the discography of Music
Joker, you too have turned into a research guide here in India
On your area,On the use of ridicule and the sense of humour,The use and application of wit and humour, fun and pun,Comic sense and the innocence of laughing simply,I think many will get Ph.Ds.,They will not write,But you will,Collaging the matters,Cutting with the scissors,Like a barber and a gardener,Falling short of plagiarismAnd as thus will…