Category: Love

women wearing white and brown swimsuit standing on seashore
Love, Nature, poetry

Las California

Tanya'sopinion

” And therefore I’ve sailed the seas and come

to the holy city of Byzantium’

-William Butler Yeats

Drifting towards las California

surfing coast to coast,

in a state of frenzied hysteria.

In the city of cock-tail

baby it’s gonna be all hearty and hail.

Now don’t you believe those blind poets;

who proclaim surrender and succumb,

and miserable kindness is all the worth.

Truth is in youth, tanned body is all the mirth.

Ember sun, droplets of sweet-sweet wine

that cerulean azure sky-line.

The low hanging palm palanquins,

and the glorious home coming queens.

Before the golden Aprils begins,

sun-city is the new Byzantium;

and beams of warmth my holy mausoleum.

Sinful Dips
Love, Nature, poetry, sensual, woman

Sinful Dips

Tanya'sopinion

I took sinful dips in vast seas of love embracing

you tightly, with a terror of drowning in the

deep waters of desires. Wines from your

lips did wonders, for I went and came back

from the hell fires, taking sinful dips

in the waters of love.

 

Shedding all vestiges of shame, clothed only

in translucent moon-light while holding

you tightly, trying to sooth the amber

of my flesh with your cigar breaths.

 

I performed holy ablutions to wash off any

lingering doubts of cravings, let raven

hair loose to sway in directions unknown,

only to clasp a caress in my nets in the

deepest pits of desires.

 

While softly twirling on the rubenesque flutes

of thirsts, closed my eyes and swam to the

farthest corners of desire to discover a

dated relic of yours resting in the

sea-beds of my whims.

 

Knowing that magical things might happen,

I allowed myself to completely penetrate

in the realms of darkest fantasies to,

accomplish once a flawless rapture of bodies.

While you played your wicked games

I let lose more shames just to capture a

whiff of your perfume, to break an ancient

spell of absence while taking sinful

dips in vast seas of love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Harp's Nylon Strings
Books, Love, poetry

Words Never Fail

Tanya'sopinion

I’ve filled the voids of my soul with

slants of words, the curvatures of

alphabets to gratify the endless

nights of effervescent

passions.

 

In the deepest abyss of malevolent

nights, I’ve implored the meanings

of your desertion through the

arches of letters.

 

The denied kisses through the

strokes of symbols, the dearth

of touch with caresses of

half-formed letters on crisp

blank papers.

 

At times I am riding on scripts

while others overwhelmed

under their weighty connotations,

you see my love words 

never fail!

 

For they can fill up empty papers,

hinge together differing

borders, like the elastic  

ropes you can stretch

them to suit bleak

realities of life.

 

 

holding hands
Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, life, Love, poetry

Let us

Tanya'sopinion

Let us leave the hand of misery,

and pledge to never gloat in self-pity.

Life is tough, its hard,

but lets just never judge.

We all are victims of both hate and lust.

And this is life nothing more that that,

it is stiff for those who always doubt.

Whatever happens, happens….

So why fret let us love and hold

hands of those who are left behind.

Smile and for once just be kind.

feminine, Humour, life, Love, Nature

Miss That Girl

Tanya'sopinion

I miss that girl who,

would run wild, and

was always ready to

smile without  breaks.

She loved without care

When the things 

got tougher simply

cried her heart out.

and life would get 

straight again, ideals

were lofty , heels

higher and memories

ran sharper, food

was always warm 

and drinks forever

bubbling…

Now many springs

later that girl

seek reasons to 

laugh, tears don’t

descend to heart’s

desire, lovers have

gone senile, running

requires plastic knee-

caps and heels are

trimmed to two inches

mark ,forgetfulness is

the way of busy life,

while food requires

a careful watch, the

bubbling drinks be

better left off…

Life might never be

straight again ….

I miss that girl!

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?

life, Love, Nature, poetry

Cheap Bars

Tanya'sopinion

In cheap bars,

few words are exchanged.

Men and women are

lip-locked, desiring

a quickie and

some cheap booze.

Few roadside poets

aroused and induced

by blue gin and tonic,

pretend to dabble in

classical sonnets.

There are no

masterpieces here,

nor heroic tales.

Words are concieved

on the rough edges of

burnt joints.

Midst rivers of woes

and poetic verses

lingers a stench

of dead fish.

Everyone comes

here….

Poets have homes ,

Men and women

have homes but

nothing is going on

in those empty walls.

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.