Category: Literature

desire mightier
feminine, Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Inspiration, Literature, Love, Nature, poetry, Self-Help, woman

No Desire Is Mightier

Tanya'sopinion

I know not…

Was it a dream or a drowsy opiate slumber?

As I stood on a tortured sea-shore

and cast my eye on the swollen waves

passionately  kissing my naked feet

making love to me with a brutish force

taking me in its azure vinyl embrace

slowly grasping my flaming flesh with

a fiery I’ve never known before,

an uproar a stir in my fragile body

exhausted since centuries of decay

the foamy saline waters entering in me

through all nook and corners, fissures and holes

mixing in all the violent blues with the

crimson reds, crawling stealthily like million

serpents, wriggling gushing upwards

Oh! a sensation a loud roar within

a rapture somewhere, an euphoric elation

an electric jolt worth thousands bolts!

My enslaved body in an act of consummation

so strong, my heart-ached, soul-shuddered

at the violation so brutal, like a hapless bird

caught in a nib of a savage Falcon from the

far-east, I let it happen without any contest

Why? Because I possessed it too and let loose

the cinders of  ancient fire burning in me

for I didn’t surrender, and let it go on without

a single doubt or shame nor did I curse

the gods above, knowing that no desire is

mightier than the other, for yearnings

have the same frenzy everywhere.

But I know not…

Was it a dream or a drowsy opiate slumber?

Legend, life, Literature, Love, poetry

XANADU

Tanya'sopinion

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-

dome decree: Where Alph, the

sacred river, ran Through caverns

measureless to man Down to a sunless sea.

–Samuel Taylor Coleridge

As, I count my hours

with the endless jars’s

of poor man’s coffee,

I hallucinated about

Coleridge’s Xanadu.

May be it’s just

one meal a day or

is the opium that

Keats snorted.

As I lay bare

in grim winter

afternoon,

I see around me

a wasteland,

but I am dreaming of

Khan’s Xanadu.

Persian Laila
Humour, Literature, Love, Nature, poetry, satire, wit,

The Persian Laila

Tanya'sopinion

Having feasted past-midnight, Persian Laila got up lazily at the stroke of twelve. Wearing her sparkling tiara, she rose with a numbing headache resultant of a hangover,

Caused by the left-over French champagne that she drank greedily from the China glass of her Benevolent master.

Her master’s darling she occupied a special place in his cozy lap and abhorred the site of her pot-bellied mistress,

For Laila considered her as a staunch-competitor and purred when ever she dared come near especially at long intervals of midnight drinks .

She would adorn herself on the left thigh of master and lick heavenly nectar only from the corner his pinkish wrinkled hands.

A site to behold midst bubblingchampagne and the smoke of expensive Cuban cigars. Her blue eyes drunk with envy and rage, she fought hard and with everyone for her master’s attention.

On rare occasions of evening strolls, she would walk with snobbish air and displeased countenance on the cobbled streets of rustic New York.

Looking down with disdain on all other pussies in the town, as she deemed them to be too causal and boring in the appearance,

For Laila came from the Persian peninsula from the house of the grand pasha of Azerbaijan, her great-grandmother the dark-eyed Hoorie was a favorite of the sultan-Suleiman.

And what a cherished presence on all matters important of every concern but was slain on one moonless night by the jealous ladies of Sultan’s Harem.

All were fine, till troubles started to brew, for master was a man of excess and one Persian damsel was not enough and yearned for another beauty to occupy the vacant right thigh!

So brought a petite French this time, Annabella who had a legacy of her own, for she came-from the family of Master pastry chef, Monsuier Jean Paul employed in the house of King Louis XII.

Both pussycats couldn’t look each other in the eye for both was endowed with looks and style to charm any.

One fine day while the master was away, in a brawl with each other both got their tails entangled, the mistress had enough and decided to sail one of them away…

And who better than the Persian Laila, for she was never in her good books. Hence a plan was hatched and poor Laila was swiftly hurried off to live with an old woman in quite a corner

Of the town and master was told a tale of how she eloped with neighbor’s Valentino who had-no history to boast of. 

Annabella now the reigning queen while Laila spent her time remembering the days of glory gone by.

Great Land
life, Literature, Nature, poetry

RETURNING

Tanya'sopinion

Tired and exhausted as I batter life,

you’ve embraced me again with your;

small talks and effervescence.

A piece of great land even loftier

tales, you’ve tied me hard.

When I run far away to escape

the dreary stormier seas.

And embarked on long voyages

to the lands of one Bedouins,

and golden dunes,

I knew I’ll come back

one more time.

life, Literature, Love, poetry

Abuse Mechanism

Tanya'sopinion

There is no individual as far as I can see who has not been either abused or inadvertently part of abusing someone. Someone brilliantly remarked in life you are abused by some and you abuse some. I don’t know whether, I agree with the statement or not , but I do feel we all need to develop a thick rhino skin to be able to withstand the conniving abuse mechanisms of certain people unfortunately of few who are closely related.

In couples very often children are used as a ploy to threaten each other. I’ve been in a position several times where I’ve been threatened that my daughter will be taken away if I try to leave. Earlier out of fear very often I’ll give in due to fear of being separated from my child but lately I’ve decided not to let the fear paralyze me and allow things to unfold. I guess once bullies and abusers are shown that you don’t fear the consequences, it breaks the whole pattern of abuse. What do you 🤔 think??

As they say there is a bigger victory awaiting after fear… . It’s disheartening that the weakest individuals among choose such mechanisms to intimidate and weaken the spirits of others. Some of us give in thinking that may be this is the end and get caught up in vicious cycle of abuse mechanism. If you feel you’ve been in similar pattern of abuse, I feel you need to first get rid of the debilitating fear and seek help, I’m sure it’s available or talk to near and dear ones.

Most importantly break the pattern of your own fear and anxiety!

History, Legend, life, Literature, Love, Nature, poetry, Self-Help, Spirtual

Devil in a Sea of Men

Tanya'sopinion

Disguised in the

hollow curves of

your eloquent words,

do I hear a vicious

hissing ; whispers of

a conniving heart?

Why do I visualize

a serpentine on the rock?

I’m not beguiled by

your deceptive talks.

By the tinkering of your

silver coins.

For I’ve on my hump back

burden of enough winters

to mark a

Devil in a sea of Men.

Legend, Literature, Nature

Ozymandias

Tanya'sopinion

PB Shelley

I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

Lunacy
life, Literature, Nature, poetry

Innocent

Tanya'sopinion

“ The ceremony of innocence is drowned.”

W. B Yeats

Out of ceremonial fires emerged,

tiny amber sparks of soot.

Fires were lit to please the

dormant demigod.

Saintly priest offered one thousand

ablutions to the mighty

demagogue , enthroned

on a regal Peacock Throne.

A neck was twisted, a cord broken,

out of hollow spine;

gushed ruby coloured brooks of blood.

A spectacle of blood-bath assembled

to sacrifice an Innocent at the

altar of a strapping few.