Beef, Beef, Beef, Take It Beef And Write You The History Of Medieval India

Poem By Bijay Kant Dubey

Your sun dress on Saturday
and the way you move on summer streets
walking to the market place,
I thank hidden deities
I've seen your face.

I want to live in a city
of perfect smiles and bouquets
and to simply hear you laugh.

The lies I've told myself
about never wanting to fall in love
get blown away like autumn leaves
when I know you're in the room.

I never thought I'd contemplate again
wedding rings or spring chapels
but everything about you makes me believe
happiness still can breathe in air of all my dreams.

Every lonely tear at dusk
and weeping midnight candle going out
is worth the day you meet someone.

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A Different Sky Is Waiting

We’ve been in the rain so long
That our eyes are sore and red;
When joy is missing,
We gaze down too long at our feet

A Stranded Girl On A Friday Night

She was weeping when we met
Outside a party store
Where the lonely purchase their wine;
Her boyfriend had left her behind

Feminine Mystery Of The Eternal Goddess

I’m writing the poetry of fragile souls
Sitting quietly in the broken sunlight
Of hopeful but fleeting romance.

Bob Dylan Heard The Voice

Bob Dylan heard the voice
Of a poet who died in the gutter;
That dying voice
Then seeped into his soul

Beauty Of Life

I don’t desire to wear a sad face too long
When I know I live in a world of flowers and birds
And that the evening will usher in a sky of scattered stars,
When I know hopeful prayers and songs

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Misfortunes can be intense
In the hour of sadness,
But even earthquake ravages
Get rebuilt until a skyline