Do you love me,
Do you love me
Touching the cheeks
And the nose?
Pulling the cheeks
And caressing the hair,
Trying to appease you,
I want to ask you,
Do you love, love me?
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Poetry is not poetry today,
Rhymed and unrhymed,The tidbits of talks.
With the head on the palm
Into a reclined stateOf reflection or delvingAnd dwelling ti farMakes it a philosopher,Gives the pose of a philosopherIn a mood of philosophizing.
My unkempt beards so poetical and so precious,
I want ot pledge before,Calling a lawyerAnd making a draft of itAs per my will and testamentThat it be giftedTo a poetry societyAnd if not, these be kindly keptIn a museumAs for put on display,After breathe I my last.
Blue Whale,
Killing the small children,Claiming innocent lives,What will you,Will you get,Blue Whale?
The song of poetry,
Changing times,Nuances of the language,The cadence of speech,The rhythm of life,Speech,The vibes of the world.Your songThe song of the guitarAnd you a guitarist,A musician performing,Plucking the wires of the instrumentAnd the music cackling.
In the Tiger Temple
The Buddhist monksRearingThe orphan tiger cubsIn the Tiger TempleWalking withThe tigers,Caressing,LovingAnd caringIn all friendliness.