The Awaited Agony: Beauty and the Beast - A Gothic Etymology - Part VI – Beauty's Farewell

A Sleeping tree awakes to dawn set free,

Pigeons fly to proclaim the sky’s essence...

A caterpillar breathes free to a butterfly with glee,

Beauty flays her hair to the Beast’s relish of floral fragrance...

‘With Flower Knitted Beads.’

The Beast weeps of the departing flies,

Beauty’s sympathy he felt were lies.

Craving is cupid for her Blessed eyes,

The Beast fails in courage as he recites her smile...

The shadows awoke to crimson that rode down the path,

 His Stallion wept as the leather in pardon captured its wrath...

The Beast watched as much to love that could last,

His palm bled as the thorns relished his lonely grasp...

The Papa Poem

For World Peace! I Dedicate this Poem for Love and Papa, My Mother Teresa. Ave Maria. 

His Eyelids are free!!
In Peace He smiles back to me..
Call it a Smile, His Eyes are a Blessing,
And his return,
He sings a song to me of courage and strength,,,

He sings to me,
I sing back in return...
I dedicate this poem to Courage...

I miss you so much, That word can’t define in itself...


He is with My Lord and My Blessed Mother, God and Doves...
He writes a precious poem with my Mother and My Best Friend Kavitha,
With Aunt, God Bless All Their Smiles Always in Heaven...

I am a Free Man, Born a Brought up to never give up on my dreams....
I never Will... EVER...Papa taught me to.. I learnt and made my mind fixate.

The Hope Poem

This poem is dedicated to all who lost their lives due to Hate preached, For Sri Lanka and the lives in Heaven lost due to the Cyclone.

Why is there pain?
Why the Sorrow?
Don’t hate God for the pain.
It’s taught in The Bible, The Quran, The Gita and the Blessings,
I’m reading and till date I’ve have not any preaching of Sorrow.

Hate is never preached,
It’s a man made decibel...
Yet comes the greed in money’s teach,
Least to realize there’s always a Blessed Bell!

From Heaven they smile to us,
I pray in return...
God Bless to Heal Plus,
Hate is never taught in the turn!

The Sister Poem

This poem is dedicated to My Sister Lakshmi Priya and her Blessed Home...

Her Eyes sings to the sky,
The sky sings back a poem....
She makes me eat a mile,
She sings life a song in Heaven’s thrum....

Her Hands boils me Pongal,
Chicken to sing her keerai ping ball....
In a porcelain glass she drops Heaven’s ensemble...
My tongue open’s hunger’s Blessed Stall....

Her eyes is a Blessing,
The thyme is a Brother’s missing...
Her smile is Heaven’s kissing,
A sister she is to me in God’s blessing....

Hope sings to me precious,
She is my Life and my breath...
Her smile is the most gracious,
Plenty I shall rhyme as her arms is the most spacious...

Hope and Acoustic

.

"These are precious poems by my Precious Aunty and Superwoman, Premila Gupta.God Bless Your lightened Soul in Heaven and my sacrament Sister, Dingy."  

The way was long,
The night was dark,
Clouds dark grey,
Streaked with silver rays,
Stretched from end to end.
 
The trees bend, as the haughty wind howled past,
I stood on the rugged pathway.
A lone watcher of this wonderfully terrifying scene...
Eagerly awaiting some familiar sight
Something like that of a watchman’s light,
Finding one terror filled my heart.
And then I chose to be the blind –
To be led by you,
With confidence and trust I walked
The lengths of the rugged path
Trusting you and trusting my heart.

As I walked on the rugged path;
I stopped and gave a thought;
To the world I had left behind.
I thought and thought but nothing came –
To my mind as to what I had lost.
What I had gained;
Suddenly, A fever entered my head,
That I could not see anything ahead;
I stood still waiting for a passer by
But in vain, all passed by and by
Then a shining star should me light –
And I I knew then God had my plight.
As of saying:
Unborn tomorrow & dead yesterday.
Why fret about them;
If today be sweet!
If not on earth, then in Heaven we shall meet.

Once in a while a friend is found
Which turns out from the start,
to be just the kind of frind
Who really wins your heart.
Once in a while a while a friendship’s made
That’s I really lasting too
And that’s the kind of friendship
I know since met you.
 
Time comes, Time goes
Day comes, Day goes
And yet......
There is solitude in my heart?
Oh! when will sun shine again
Promising something better for the day?

For I do not know where to look and found
The person who gives me courage from behind.
Say, when will you come?
Singing a better day?
God don’t let that dat be away to long
For by that time I may have come and gone.

My life is mine
What shall I make of it
The world is a dark place
With many cruel phrase.
The person one’s love is beyond one’s reach
Hence so may suicide on the bench.
The wearing of love is not known.
That’s why people are unhappy and along
They attack people with trucks clever.
Promise not love but diamonds forever.
Seeing this state of the world.
My head moves in a state of whirl.
God either change the people under the moon.
Or call me to your boon.
Let no man shed a tear for me
For I shall be happier with thee.

The Imaginary Poem

In looks outside is a rhapsody,
The sky is Heaven’s precious Blessing...
A fruit sings to a choir’s melody,
Every Breath is The Gracious Lord’s kissing...

Eyes sing a minim rhyme,
Asleep are two pigeon birds...
They sing a song to a kite sublime,
Clouds walk in winter herds...

Breath sings to the sky,
The blue note rhymes a poem...
On a cheek parks a fly,
Fingers walk in a static loam...

A cloud speaks to the other,
The wind is the Moon’s Brother...
A song sung with Angel Feather,
Sleeping is the wing’s slither...

The waves speak to the water,
A Chicken eats her liver...
Pained is a saddened blister,
The winter sings to the dark in silver....

A Note to Her

A Girl, A Woman is as equal as to a Boy or a Man.  They are very strong proven in every aspect. It’s sad to see them forced to make believe they are a weakling in the society we live in. It’s in the equal spirit that is a Blessing she smiles and stays strong even when things go bad or in state of mental hurting. She has the spirit to give life with destiny carried in her womb for a Blessed 9 months and give breath to a new life with a smile and Sacrament Love.

She can make it though all dreams to come true to become a spirited Astronaut, a Mother to spread the word of peace, a Sister to smile and speak of peace for her wrong doers and all who are have and will always be an inspiration to me.

‘The path from dreams to success does exist. May you have the vision to find it, the courage to get on to it, and the perseverance to follow it. Wishing you a great journey.’ – Kalpana Chawla

‘It is not how much we do, but how much love we put in the doing. It is not how much we give, but how much love we put in the giving.’ - Mother Teresa

‘There are two powers in the world; one is the sword and the other is the pen. There is a third power stronger than both, that of women.’ – Malala Yousafzai

She has the right to do the same equal things and it’s sad to see cases of death due to dowry or some monetary scrap need. A Girl, A Woman and Her Spirit can be bought or sold only with Love and Peace and not Dowry.

Her

This poem is dedicated to Asifa and for all victims of harassment and abuse. For World Peace.  Ave Maria.

A quiet empty street,

Her precious breath’s a song...

The pigeon finds Heaven’s fleet,

Her orchestral eyes rhyme along....

Her eyes are a sacrament blessing,

She smiles precious to the sky....

A star is the moon’s kissing,

Her eyes sleep in a porcelain cry...

Waiting for the moon to smile,

She looks up to the sleeping star...

The street lamps lights paint a mile,

A chime to rhyme Heaven a par...

Her Breath is a Choir Note,

Dreams breathe in a silent register...

A gale rhymes a poem float,

She sings in a Heaven’s Melodic whisper...

Birth

This Poem is dedicated to my Precious Sweet Mother (I'm sorry for the anger, I was immature. The person that I am today is what You and Papa have sprouted precious. The talent and the poetry that I am Blessed with today is from you, Ma! I Love You Plenty, I Miss You ), My Best Friend  Kavitha (I Miss You a Lot) and my Sweetest Aunt Premila Gupta. I Love You.  God Bless Your Soul Plenty in Heaven. 
My Superman – Papa who is life and the Breath to me! 
Ave Maria!

Eyes named by an innocent sky,
Fragile hands sing to the wind’s Blessed rhyme....
Exemplary is her eyes to the new born cry,
She looks down at her precious handsome shine...

The sickness eats her plenty,
She weeps to the night in seconds...
Hope in expectation’s box spelled empty,
She smiles as God’s Choir plays Heaven’s beautiful record...

The sickness eats her knee,
She cries inside a heart for aching to be free...
Superman* comes smiling with Ghee*,
An Angel’s milk uproots Heaven’s gracious seed...

Her knees weep to the pain’s weeping death,
Hope is thus painted with her precious colour in bed....
Superman pens a poem naming the cotton forehead,
 Her pain’s thus subdued to Sacrament Bread...

Her eyes hurt with pained illness,
A cloud writes a note to a wishing well...
Pigeons weep to the saddened stillness,
 Superman breathes to her eyes’ aching swell...

Heaven’s choir comes to a subtle roaring,
Life writes to itself a Father’s story...
The rain sings her precious pouring,
Blessed Mother thus sings the Lord’s name plenty in Glory...

*Superman – Father
*Ghee - Clarified butter made from the milk of a buffalo or cow, used in Indian cooking.

The Rain and Hope Poem

Blessed rain drop,

How precious ‘areth thee?

The cloud enriched in Heaven’s crop,

Hiding is the moon for her stars crying to be free...

The Rain’s a sky painting,

She sings a song to the cloud...

A kite weeps on a sting thus aching,

Heaven’s choir chimes aloud...

A purple polished wind,

Asleep is the lonely sand...

A wager payer a hand’s stipend,

The Rosary chimes pleasant ‘neath her hand...

Plenty are the eyes that look up,

A pigeon recites the Lord’s pathway...

The sky is Heaven’s blue syrup,

To the left is the Blessed children’s parkway...

The ice cream sings to him,

A wafer dissolves to the milk’s up bring...

A boiled egg speaks to the loaf slim,

Rhyming outside is the Blessed Mother with Miracle Wings... 

The Winter Sea Poem

The windmill sings to the sky,

She writes a poem...

Water to a shore’s imply,

Sands with footprints that roam...

Amazing is a pained line of shores,

The boat stipends an oar...

People smile as a kite roars,

Alas wept the rain as the cloud thus tore...

He runs for shade,

A road where cream was made...

The ice sinks to a fruited shade,

A tree dismembers her leafy fray...

The traffic is out fishing,

A coin looks up its wishing well...

His feet sings to the earth’s kissing,

A cat sings to her brittle bell...

The street is a walking road furnished,

A Stone bench reads itself a book...

Painted winds are not replenished,

A loaf of bread is the butter’s cook...

A Rosary sings to her bead,

His fingers give in to the shiver...

The sidewalk plants a seed,

A nightingale sings to an apple’s liver...

The rich play with greedy dice,

A poor woman begs for rice...

Her little child pays the price,

The street lamp speaks to her twice...

She sells no shells on a sliver shore,

The chicken smiles to the butter pour...

A purple dress to the moon she wore,

The fish attends to his allergy sour!  

The Mid-Winter Night’s Dream

A train of clouds subdue,
The pillow is biting bread...
Drops of rain speak to each in feud,
The walls speak to itself in a silent thread... 

Sleeping bread in a wooden jar,
The moon looks afar...
A knitting cloud weeps a par,
A lonely breath is a crying star...

He waits for her,
The moon still waits a grim...
Eyes pained in spur,
A pale candle sings to the rim...

The crying star spells the rain,
Her eye paints his brain...
The moon wept in her terrain,
None is lost when all's to gain...

Sleeping despair in a painting,
A curtain writes a book in lazing...
Crying are grey roses in wedded plating,
The weeping sky in a purple slating...

The mist thus stitched the winter rim,
A photograph nails a porcelain dart...
Empty is the leaf on a tree that’s grim,
A snail therefore crawl its art...

Asleep are doves in craving,
A tulip finds her root,
Swollen cobwebs in Satan’s painting,
Blessed Mary crushed his pupils with a boot.... 

The No Hand Peace Stroke

‘Peace cannot be kept by force; it can only be achieved by Understanding.' 

-        Albert Einstein

Youtube Keyword - The No Hand Peace Stroke

Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/search_results.html?q=Peace

The Peace Poem – Part 1

"Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” - Mother Teresa.

The dawn spells a quiet November morning,
A Child breathes life’s precious earning...
The light shines to enrich the crowning,
A Mother satisfies her aching yearning...

The damped clouds weep as the rain falls,
His hand waves to God’s blessed call...
Heaven’s Violin rhymes on furnished walls,
The milking Mother looks past her labour small...

A sky is where the birds flew,
A Father’s forehead is the Child’s blessed rue...
The rain still weeps outside as the wind blew,
A White Dove sings for peace to come true...

With Bismillah and Jesus to redeem,
A *Diya smiles to God...
The moon sings to the night’s eye beam,
Outside is Satan’s mausoleum eating peace’s rhyming chord...

The clouds cry as the sky dies,
His Mother smiles as his Father tries...
A tree outside with honey flies,
The fire outside cook’s greed the wicked rice...

His eyes wait for hers,
He waits for her in return...
The Father sings to a bed’s rehearse,
Hunger gives his stomach a burn...

He looks outside the window,
The Church Bells thus rings...
A Mosque is God’s beautiful pillow,
Blessed Hanukkah is where his breath sings...

The Winter Poet’s Note – This poem is dedicated to World Peace. Religion never divides, it unites.
Ave Maria.

*Diya - A small cup-shaped oil lamp made of baked clay.

Thank You - http://www.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/english/

The Sample Shoes

Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty. - Mother Teresa.

Pickles in a pickled jar,

A song sung to a star!

His eyes breathe to the sky’s par,

Birds thus sing afar...

The wind sings song a bell,

Dreams are his cloud’s waiting tell.

A coin talks to him from a wishing well,

On a road is where the rain thus fell...

Fingernails are agony’s weep,

He writes a poem in his sleep.

The street cries to a song that’s deep,

Freedom speaks to him indeed...

The moon and her treaty,

Asleep is the bed of a needy.

A tree lofts the root neatly,

The wind speaks to him all greedy...

His eyes leave behind a footprint,

The street lamp smiles a tint.

Silver’s where no gold’s a mint,

His hair in a lonely sprint...

His yarn sings to a pillow yearn,

His feet cried to a waking burn...

Heaven reads as his nails learn,

A toe smiles in return!

All that’s gold is not wheat,

Waves can make agony complete!

Birds thus find their fleet,

Hence sang the sky to the shoring greet...

Thank You! http://www.brainyquote.com/

The Winter Stray Poem – Part 2

“This poem is dedicated to all who are in need and the ones who died waiting. For World Peace”

He waits for the smoke to clear,

His eyes brown as a Blessed pear...

Could the dusk cleanse his fear?

 His mother comes home raped with lust’s tainted spear...

The wind aches for freedom,

A tree weeps in her dying breath...

The children crave for wisdom,

Bullets relish peace’s empty death...

The crying sky aches for a cloud,

Rain thus comes down to wash a tear...

Eyes look for the moon’s *laud,

Birds hide from the war’s painful sear...

The poor is naked as the rich eats,

A new sky paints his precious feet...

Hungry as his craving heart beats,

The birds fly again their previous fleet...

His fingers cry to a blood clot,

The broken nail speaks to him...

A pencil to fill the waiting dot,

He finds beside him a precious grim...

Eyes wait for Heaven’s dream,

Her breath is pale in need...

His face scratched with the crying seam,

An ice-cream is theirs indeed...

She looks at his empty eyes,

An Iris waits and cries...

The cream speaks to the ice,

The birds now sing in anxious tries...

His eyebrows look at her,

Her eyes still look at them...

The sky’s now an exemplar,

A tree now grows her stem...

The Winter Poet’s Note – We do not fail when we don’t give; we fail when we can give yet we eat greedy.

Key from the Oxford Reference Dictionary:

*Laud - Praise highly.

*Exemplar – a person or thing serving a typical example or appropriate model.

The Poem

Plural is a verb to blind optimism,
Hope’s the candle in an empty prison.
The dusk sleeps with a lonely prism,
Alas, died the sky to a moon’s treason...

A palm pale with pained sickness,
The birds outside sing free...
Death is failure’s drowning weakness,
The window shut as the walls breathe...

Sleeping Madrigal thus sealed no lip,
A Garth cries a weeping bliss!
The empty moon in a sorrow dip,
Pale are my lips we hence kiss!

Sleeping silkworm thus breathes a knit,
How sad could be agony’s grey pencil?
My awaiting cobweb has your candle lit,
The empty sky is hope’s painted stencil...

The waiting dawn aches to breathe,
A night paints a portrait grey.
The amused streetlight sets life free,
Heaven’s *wreathe to his empty prey...

The wind’s a spelling on a chin,
Flowers died before the wedding...
The nightingale has a monopoly sing,
A Rosary to look up the blue bedding...

The Evening

His fingers run through the book slops,

A bookworm in between...

The place where the food shops,

A hungry stomach’s cream...        

He looks around the sea shore,

The lighthouse is a queen...

A sky is where the clouds pour,

His moon shines where its seen...

In the sand where the snail snores,

No cobwebs in a seam..

For kites the tragic wind roars,

How dead could be a dream?

A fountain’s where the lights glow,

He watched as it breathes...

The flight of her water flow,

A Smile less as he recedes...

In a garden where the fruits grow,

A place across the sea...

The sand in an eyebrow,

And thus the princess had a pea...