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Promod P.P

Promod P.P

As late I rambled in the happy fields,
What time the skylark shakes the tremulous dew
From his lush clover covert;—when anew
Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields;
I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields,
A fresh-blown musk-rose; 'twas the first that threw
Its sweets upon the summer: graceful it... more »
  • member since May 4 2009

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Public Notes

  • Howard H

    Howard H says

    I enjoyed your Robert Frost poem. That is my favorite of his poems. I remember as a boy coming through snow bound roads, just like he described in New York State.
    Thanks for sharing.

    posted 6 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Anmol

    Anmol says

    A Road Well Travelled

    A road well travelled does not the journey ease
    Nor do well placed signposts aid our itineraries
    A road well travelled is rough and rutted where
    Others have passed by this way overburdened with their cares
    A road well-travelled may be full of risks and dangers
    You keep yourself unto yourself and never talk to strangers.

    This road well travelled has no final end in sight
    It can be sunny in the daytime but quite frightening at night
    This road well travelled can sometimes just disappear
    And you stop not knowing where to go shivering with fear
    This road well travelled sometimes returns you to its start
    And leaves you walking round in circles with a sad and heavy heart.

    My road well travelled has many toll gates on the way
    Each time I ask directions there’s a need to always pay
    My road well travelled is a lonely road at times
    It is a real road that I know it’s not just a state of mind
    My road well travelled is not just my road you see
    It’s a road that many others take and it’s called anxiety.

    David Keig

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Anmol

    Anmol says

    MY FRIEND, MY STRANGER - BY AMRITA PRITAM

    Suddenly one day you came,
    Surprised,
    Time stood still in my room,
    The sun about to set,
    Paused,
    Fated to return,
    The sun forgot its fate,
    The cosmic order complained.

    When time looked at that moment,
    Startled,
    It leapt from my window,
    We remember that incident,
    And wonder,
    Perhaps time will never,
    Do this again.

    Now the sun sets each day on time,
    And darkness enters my heart each night.
    But that moment when time stood still,
    Was the truth,
    Whether you or I admit it or not.

    That day, when time leapt from my window,
    Its knees were bruised and bled,
    That blood,
    Still stains my window...

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Anmol

    Anmol says

    Lamentations of an Upright Doctor

    Oh God, my lord, I want to be upright!
    Could I send patients with pockets empty?
    When poor and sick a person comes to me.
    My conscience tells me whatever is right.

    Though he be rich, could I him ever fleece?
    Where is the need for too costly treatment,
    Except to take back money for my rent?
    I can’t charge him hence, exorbitant fees.

    When cure can come for rupees only ten,
    Then all I need to do is speak kind words;
    Can I waste money ev’n if he affords?
    Where is the need to admit him often?

    God, let me keep my ethics in this world!
    Heaven is not attained by any gold.



    Dr John Celes

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Anmol

    Anmol says

    Listen



    Listen, my friend, this road is the heart opening,
    kissing his feet, resistance broken, tears all night.

    If we could reach the Lord through immersion in water,
    I would have asked to be born a fish in this life.
    If we could reach Him through nothing but berries and wild nuts
    then surely the saints would have been monkeys when they came from the womb!


    If we could reach him by munching lettuce and dry leaves
    then the goats would surely get to the Holy One before us!
    If the worship of stone statues could bring us all the way,
    I would have adored a granite mountain years ago.


    Meera bai

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Howard H

    Howard H says

    Hey, Promod P.P , You have a real cool page there, man. I am going to see if I can if I can find a poetry book by you on Amazon.com. Sorry to say, I am not a poet. Just a rambler with words. I don't even know where they come from. I guess I just write down how I feel.
    Say, Promod P. P, pull up Whitman McGowan. He is a real cool San Francisco poet. You know,
    North Beach, City Lights Bookstore, all that jazz. I used to hang out with "Beats" down in Los Angeles. I was just too square at that time. I had to work for a living. As you can see I have never completely kicked the "Beat" lingo..
    CIAO HOWARD H.

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Anmol

    Anmol says

    "If That Were Me"

    Where do they go and what do they do?
    They're walking on by. They're looking at you.
    Some people stop, some people stare.
    But would they help you and do they care?

    How did you fall? Did you fall at all?
    Are you happy when you are sleeping underneath the stars?
    When it's cold is it your hope that keeps you warm?

    A spare bit of change is all that I give.
    How is that gonna help when you've got nowhere to live?
    Some turn away so they don't see.
    I bet you'd look if that were me.

    How did you fall? Did you fall at all?
    Is it lonely where you are sleeping in between parked cars?
    When it thunders where do you hide from the storm?

    Could you ever forgive my self-pity?
    When you've got nothing and you're living on the streets of the city.
    I couldn't live without my phone.
    But you don't even have a home.

    How did we fall? Can we get up at all?
    Are we happy where we are on our lonely little star?
    When it's cold is it your hope that keeps you warm?

    Where do they go and what do they do?
    They're walking on by. They're looking at you.
    They're walking on by. They're looking at you.

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Anmol

    Anmol says

    Endless Summer

    There used to be a time that I believed
    The soft pouring rain was just the pouring rain, it wasn’t me
    But every new light that wasn’t shiny and bright
    We’ll suspend the storms and the clouds in sight

    Of an endless summer
    An endless summer
    An endless summer to be home

    Let me go, wasting time
    Let me go waste my time

    Once there was a chance that I believed you
    A kiss was just a kiss
    No matter how I missed you
    Shine a light on me
    Say a prayer for the relief

    From an endless summer
    An endless summer
    An endless summer to be home

    Did we go on too long
    Did we listen too close
    To a youth built strong
    With things children shouldn’t know

    And the fall out from your third degrees
    Of broken chairs and of pedigrees
    Where the sons kill sons, and the daughters stay wise
    ’cause when we rule, everybody dies

    In an endless summer
    An endless summer
    An endless summer to be home

    Let me go, wasting time
    Let me go waste my time
    Let me go, wasting time
    Let me go waste my time

    Now you can disagree
    With how I choose to live
    But freedom isn’t free
    Unless you learn how to give

    To the summer, summer, summer, yeah
    Summer, summer, summer, yeah
    Summer, summer, summer, yeah
    Summer, summer, summer, yeah

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Anmol

    Anmol says

    Sometimes

    Sometimes things happen,
    Sometimes things don't.
    Sometimes you want to,
    Sometimes you won't.
    Sometimes you dream,
    Sometimes you cry.
    Sometimes you scream,
    Sometimes you fly.
    Sometimes you're forgiven,
    Sometimes you're not.
    Sometimes you find peace,
    Sometimes you dont.
    Sometimes dreams become reality,
    Sometimes nightmares do too.
    Sometimes things are picture perfect,
    Sometimes they aren't.
    Sometimes you hope,
    Sometimes you pray,
    Sometimes you beg,
    Sometimes you say,
    'Sometimes I wish, and sometimes I hope.'
    Sometimes I fear, and sometimes I don't.
    Sometimes I smile, and sometimes I bleed.
    'Sometimes just isn't good enough for me.'

    Aleksandra Lachut

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Prerna J

    Prerna J says

    sure... thanks!!

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Anmol

    Anmol says

    People never see who i really am
    Cuz i only show them what they want to see
    But underneath the mask
    I'm so much more...

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Anmol

    Anmol says

    Wordsworth ans Shelley.. not bad
    How about The Bard now..

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Anmol

    Anmol says

    wish I could weave words

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Anmol

    Anmol says

    Time Hurts, Time Heals

    It was like the whispering wind, or averted vision,
    seen and felt most clearly when you let its flow take over.
    Breathing in and out…..
    sensing the secret clarity,
    opening the core and believing as others do that within you is a fire,
    a hot, right and purposeful fire.
    I am no different than you, nothing makes me extraordinary.
    Yet I feel it to be so.
    It was a kind word….a gorgeous here, a beautiful there, and I felt it stir….
    my possibilities.
    Thanks, gratitude, the warmth of something so wonderfully sublime.
    It made my body fluid, sweet, like the tongue having its first luscious lick of ecstasy.
    What moved me so can not be obtained in any material way.
    It is a perfect gift only possible with the taking of time and given with the joy of the feeling of an old dear friend, wrapped in hope and embraced by likeness in seeing inside.
    Finally I can exhale for a soul not lost in time, but found in peace.



    Blueeyed Songbird

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Anmol

    Anmol says

    Thanks..

    Life is a rainbow made of 7 colours,

    It needs just a touch of fresh flowers
    Life is run by it's driver sometimes

    the driver does quiver,

    So u, the driver, make your life as sweet as flowers,

    And pour upon it happiness Showers.

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Anmol

    Anmol says

    I read it some where and felt like sharing with you.

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Anmol

    Anmol says

    White is who I am not.
    I can create so many different feelings
    in anyone viewing me.

    In the eyes of someone staring at me,
    I may appear like a terrified deer
    waiting to be hunted.
    Pallor is how they would describe me.

    In the eyes of a child I may bring a smile
    and enjoyment as they make a mountain
    and slide off my glimmering sheerness.

    On the mere pages that I am written
    on I may be stared upon as being blank.

    When I am at the altar I bring joy and tears
    of happiness to those who gaze at me.

    I may bring sadness or anger to those
    who think of me as a color in a human race
    and not see me for what I really am.

    I may appear colorless to some
    and yet to others I am what brings
    them wholesomeness in all that they do.

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )
  • Dana A

    Dana A says

    That would be my pleasure too :) Thanx

    posted 8 months ago. ( send a note )


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