Three sadistic poems
Nothing lasts foreverA poet is dead, he was really dead, come on you don't believe me, Anyways, who believes poet these days? No one, right folks!What if I say to you that I am not poet and the one whom I met on the way is dead?Here you go, you really do believe me now, don't you?Keep your mind open like open skyHundred years from nowYou and I Will no longer be hereYou and IWill no longer be here forBlogging, reading, writing, face booking,Social networking, tweeting, doing all sorts of nasty stuffsSo, why to bother?Does it matter if you are awarded or rewarded?Does it matter if your children's will no longer accept or they just reject?Does it matter if your society hates you?Does it matter if you feel sick in political downtrodden atmosphere?Your wisdom, knowledge, ideas, and theories Does it matter? It doesn't!Then what else does?Share your wisdom, love, friendship, affection, and Aid othersNothing lasts forever. Nothing, believe that who I sawThe one who looked very handsome, he is dead but his poetry isn't. ©2010, Santosh Kalwar
Self-talk
I like your poetry, But I don't like you.Anything what you say,I like it.But I don't like you.Your words, your voice, Your love, your sound,Your touch, your smell,Your togetherness, your laugh,Your smileI like everything about youBut I don't like you.You are nobody to meAnd I will only accept youIf and only if, you will showThat you love meBy showcasing your talent towards meShow me that you have gutsTo pen down few words for meShow me that you are still virginAnd you can ejaculate every timeI need youYou see, I always have told you thatI like your poetry but I don't like you. ©2010, Santosh Kalwar
Poor ManI am a poor man from poor country.I am nobody in my country.They don't have security, benefits,Social care, medical benefits, education,Government, political atmosphereEverybody is pulling someone else leg.They all want to climb Everest.And I find aspiring writers looking for fame.I am a poor man,I never belonged to my country.Neither my country belonged to me.I never understood the differences of territories,Boundaries, race, religion, culture, peopleI am blind and I don't see any.And I am a poor man in no man's land.In few days, I am going for warAnd I don't know what war's likeMaybe a poor man like me is born warriorMaybe I am warrior of light.But I still think, I am a poor man from poor country. ©2010, Santosh Kalwar
Self-talk
I like your poetry, But I don't like you.Anything what you say,I like it.But I don't like you.Your words, your voice, Your love, your sound,Your touch, your smell,Your togetherness, your laugh,Your smileI like everything about youBut I don't like you.You are nobody to meAnd I will only accept youIf and only if, you will showThat you love meBy showcasing your talent towards meShow me that you have gutsTo pen down few words for meShow me that you are still virginAnd you can ejaculate every timeI need youYou see, I always have told you thatI like your poetry but I don't like you. ©2010, Santosh Kalwar
Poor ManI am a poor man from poor country.I am nobody in my country.They don't have security, benefits,Social care, medical benefits, education,Government, political atmosphereEverybody is pulling someone else leg.They all want to climb Everest.And I find aspiring writers looking for fame.I am a poor man,I never belonged to my country.Neither my country belonged to me.I never understood the differences of territories,Boundaries, race, religion, culture, peopleI am blind and I don't see any.And I am a poor man in no man's land.In few days, I am going for warAnd I don't know what war's likeMaybe a poor man like me is born warriorMaybe I am warrior of light.But I still think, I am a poor man from poor country. ©2010, Santosh Kalwar
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