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What is poetry?
The matters of the heart and mindKeep you suppressed,Let them to be out.What it happens, takes placeInsideThat must be let out and shared,Poetry is feelings and emotions,Thoughts and ideas.
One of the Shakti Peethas,
And therafter remorseful Siva’s Tandava,Unable to control himself,So bereaved and grief-stricken,Wandering and staggeringWith the dead body of SatiAnd the limbs fallingAnd thus fell it the right foot of BhagavatiWhere the temple has come up.The idol of Tripureshwari was installedAfter the king Dhanya Manikya Debbarma who ruled TripuraIn the closing years of the 15th century saw…
My daughter,
I shall not stay it hereTo see it up,But you will, my daughter,As the daughter of minewhich but they know it notWhose daughter are you not,Your pains and pines and woes,What it troubles youAnd your self,What it hurts and wounds you, my love!
Kabirdas weaving from the handloom
Which Gandhi wheeled and sangThe songs of Rama zestfullyWhich Tagore too but without wheeling it.
If the rock-built temples can be so much so stupendous,
As the specimens of sculptural excellenceThen why to talk of poetry,What is it new to express?
Tears are in your eyes,
Sorry, sorry to see youIn tears,Very, very sorryIf hurt I your feelings unknowingly,If hurt I anyway.