‘War Of Languages’
War of Languages are words woven, though in target of the same subject, differ according to the levels of tone and social class, there’s no conflict on the subject… it is not individualities__sociolects not idiolects; the linguistic approach are in opposition that could invite explosions, fragmentations, or settle in surrender… apparently depend on the eyes that read, and the ears that hear. _ade c.
a good warrior of languages is one who is…
an artful anarchist:
suspicious of all meanings, an insurgent, agitator, subversive, guerrilla, terrorist of words; a suspected nihilist of rhythms; a Bolshevik ; a rare lover and one who is capriciously romantic.
a top chef who, out of whatever are available in th pantry… swings the fork the spoon the mixer the frying pan the casserole… puts a dash of this and a dash of that, et… violà __ the poetical excitement of soda popping the cork… a fulfillment of poetry.
a magical sculpture:
a lover who being ignored by an angry beloved, creates a mounted lips out of sands… place a wild fresh flower on top of it with a short placard, “my lips thirst”… a semiotic poetry.
my poetical lacing:
“a symphony of dark clouds, heat, wind, creating rains… tickling my torso… uuuuhhhh… an imposing lightning… a fiery bursting flame, killing me killing me to orgasm!
that night… a graceful samba
spirit of champagne grinds… crushes… sways
a gentle timid tall lean silhouette oscillates
rubs his nose to mine…
delicious symphony… contagious
klieg lights… magnify distort scintillating torsos
painting clouds scorched in fire
i faint… i yield… i surrender! _ade c. 2018 sydney
War of Languages from other poets
Bhaskaranand JHA Bhaskar
lives in Kolkata
followed by 3,309 people
manages Bhaskaranand JHA Bhaskar
A pail of pang and pain
casts its shadow
in and around
during one’s partings
The coterie of love,
where hearts joyous
is fabulously flooded
from her soulful presence
before my eyes
in love with hers
with all feels
during beauteous moments
of the rendezvous
affinity is united,
in newer ways,
after ages and ages
of the wistful separation.
Truly they say…
Separation brings us close
and so am I to all –
those sweet hearts
I always love
in deep depth of my heart.
@Bhaskaranand Jha Bhaskar
Aruna Sri Medipally
Hurt by your words like hell
Tears are falling down like streams
Saddest life sometimes becomes worse
Worst to bear the deeds of madness
Oh God unable to bear this pain
Let me rest on your lap in vain.
©®Aruna Sri Medipally
Lead me there
Where Love blossoms
And spreads its fragrance ; Where Harmony sings from heart And Peace dwells like eternal spring terrain .
Lead me there
Where in merriment
Relationship whistles ;
Dreams shelter broken hearts ;
Hope boosts the frustrated souls
And Joy pours profound pleasure with drizzling rain ;
Lead me there
Where milk of Kindness oozes non-stop ;
Help extends help to wipe tears ;
Righteousness shines like the sun
And Trust binds hearts without bargain .
Lead me there
Where Truth prevails unquestionably ;
Character like pieces of diamond glow
Humanity rules to the tune of Happiness
And Life in full glee hopefully does sustain. .
Ashok K. Bhargava
Poet Writer Author Organizer
Nothing can prevent
to write poems
and to sing
“we are the champions …. …. of the world”
Copyright @Ashok Bhargava
Professor Organizer Poet Writer Author Lecturer
“I give freedom to my words
Let them fly to the worlds they like
I’m ready to stand and stare…….”
Copyright Gopichand Paruchuri
[ an excerpt from a poem]
Poet Writer Author Lecturer
There is a text in my mind,
I stand in anticipation Of storms, lightning and thunder, I sit in my garden Here I have planted a tree.
My hope of every day
when cattle or crow play mischief
its lustrous rise in world’s heart
the wind too roars causing fear
I run to see
whether it is eaten or fallen
Distracted I am curious to find
its blooming youth
Bearing fruits and flowers.
The mind is a dark continent
I slide each day endlessly
Sit meditating like a saint to see
its sacred rising under sun.
I avoid the truth
Things created are destroyed,
I set the plant if it is leaning
Water it every morning
Clean the leaves to shine green.
My heart and hands
stretched out for its growth
I am the primeval lover to find
me in its fruits and flowers
of course I don’t know
How the years will pass by!
Composed and copyright by Rajendra K. Padhi
Saroj K Padhi
Professor Poet Critic Writer Author
As the tint of the Sun’s last glow is erased
by the warm sighs of a lean Summer river,
the last legion of diurnal birds on their return
take last suck from her chest in soft quiver;
the tired breeze tries to soften its husky voice
in the clefts of ripples aching for a little rest,
in the folds of sands at the desolate banks
where inside dozing flowers, bees enjoy arrest;
sporadic sparks from smouldering heart of hills
reveal but lines of half-hidden trickles of tears
in cloudy corners of the weighty Sky’s wet eyes
when to the wind, the river whispers all her fears;
we lie as dreaming snails on her sinking floor
when trickles from sentient clouds fill sands’ pore.
COPY RIGHT : @ SAROJ K. PADHI / 06.04.18
Dr. LANKA SIVA RAMA PRASAD ( Dr. LSr Prasad)
Cardio Thoracic and Vascular Surgeon by profession, a popular author of many books and essays.
PROBLEM IS NOT A PROBLEM AT ALL
BUT THE PROBLEM IS WITH THE
Look at the hunger or anger of the world a simple but perennial problem,
But all solutions are volatile gasses, like the fumes of a hissing volcano in a dream,
If anybody care to collect the leftovers and the wasted food from the tables of rich, The hunger of the all African and Asian children will vanish like a shower in the desert ditch!
Look at the wars and scars of the worlds on cyclic perpetual motion,
What weapons and warcraft and what not they have devised in emotion,
Every invention they used to murder the life instead of watering the scorched mouth,
The hunger of the all warlords and dictators has almost decimated the life on the earth!
Look at the conquests and the scientific quests to find the life in other planets,
What birds, fish, animals and plants of earth we resisted not to devour in the extinction nets,
Every religion we inherited taught us common good and God but we sing virile sonnets
Of war and dream about peace in glory, with blood running on our crimson bonnets!
We create ourselves problems when they do not exist here and there or anywhere,
A simple solution solves the problem but we like grand solutions of aware and unaware!
Copyright @Dr.Lsr Prasad 6.4.2017
Poet Writer Artist Educator
“Serenade me with your silence… where Time becomes fluid in the tempo of our emotions and spectres of self-evolving.” (AMB) April 3 at 11:10am ·
“Earth Teaches Me to Remember
Earth teaches me stillness
as the grasses are stilled with light.
Earth teaches me suffering
as old stones suffer with memory.
Earth teaches me humility
as blossoms are humble with beginning.
Earth teaches me caring
as the mother who secures her young.
Earth teaches me courage
as the tree which stands alone.
Earth teaches me limitation
as the ant which crawls on the ground.
Earth teaches me freedom
as the eagle which soars in the sky.
Earth teaches me resignation
as the leaves which die in the fall.
Earth teaches me regeneration
as the seed which rises in the spring.
Earth teaches me to forget myself
as melted snow forgets its life.
Earth teaches me to remember kindness
as dry fields weep in the rain.” (Ute, North American)
ade caparas manilah,
a.k.a., Maelan Koia, SamAda, ade c., Gandah Manilah, Ade C. Orosa
War on Languages can be an articulated elaborated woven words that bear the linguistic power of the writers poets artists… sending effective successful messages__termed encratic discourse; languages commonly used and much more easy to understand, but differ in its aesthetic presentation: the power of voice, the body language, the semiotics, where some graphics come useful. In this modern age, there is no limit on the artistry of communications… creativeness is a must!
My thanks to our poets featured above whose poetries (encratic language) carry the aesthetic power of communication. More languages more power Poets! Notice each poet in their dotism portraits.
ade caparas manilah
saturday 12:24pm 07 april 2018’
sydney nsw australia