Pink Poems: Pink Sari - Poem by Sathya Narayana

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Pink Sari - Poem by Sathya Narayana

When took a dip in Ganga
that pink sari
imbibed a lot of Advaitha.

...glued to her skin
and lost identity...

became a mound of her mounds
curve of her curves
and dip of her dips.

I knew how euphoric that pinky felt
When dried up and separated from her
...retained her shape.

Comments about Pink Sari by Sathya Narayana

  • Agnello Dsouza 10/27/2011 3:21:00 AM

    And euphoric did I feel with that view.. Reply

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  • Siya Pande 10/22/2011 2:38:00 AM

    a brillant description i must say... Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Pradip Chattopadhyay 10/22/2011 2:36:00 AM

    An euphoria we all feel before rewinding! Nice poem. Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
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Pink Poems

  1. Pink Dominoes

    "They are fools who kiss and tell" -- Wisely has the poet sung. Man may hold all sorts of posts If he'll only hold his tongue. Jenny and Me were engaged, you see, On the eve of the Fancy Ball; So a kiss or two was nothing to you Or any one else at all. Menny would go in a domino -- Pretty and pink but warm; While I attended, clad in a splendid Austrian uniform. Now we had arranged, through notes exchanged Early that afternoon, At Number Four to waltz no more, But to sit in the dusk and spoon. I wish you to see that Jenny and Me Had barely exchanged our troth; So a kiss or two was strictly due By, from, and between us both. When Three was over, an eager lover, I fled to the gloom outside; And a Domino came out also Whom I took for my future bride. That is to say, in a casual way, I slipped my arm around her; With a kiss or two (which is nothing to you), And ready to kiss I found her. She turned her head and the name she said Was certainly not my own; But ere I could speak, with a smothered shriek She fled and left me alone. Then Jenny came, and I saw with shame She'd doffed her domino; And I had embraced an alien waist -- But I did not tell her so. Next morn I knew that there were two Dominoes pink, and one Had cloaked the spouse of Sir Julian Vouse, Our big Political gun. Sir J. was old, and her hair was gold, And her eye was a blue cerulean; And the name she said when she turned her head Was not in the least like "Julian."

  2. 'In The Pink'

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  3. Frequently The Wood Are Pink

    6 Frequently the wood are pink— Frequently are brown. Frequently the hills undress Behind my native town. Oft a head is crested I was wont to see— And as oft a cranny Where it used to be— And the Earth— they tell me— On its Axis turned! Wonderful Rotation! By but twelve performed!

  4. Pink

    Feather light wings that float softly through the air tickled by specks of dust. Bright white light inflamed with pink and laced with gold. Raising flowers, changing seasons, singing in high pitched voices that only children can hear. Little tiny people in little tiny clothes. Pink, White and Baby Blue, Only innocent eyes can see. Pink nail varnish, Pink lipstick, Pink eye shadow, Pink blusher, Pink clothes that reveal too much Pink skin. Standing on street corners innocent eyes forgotten. Long ago were the days when fairies were believed in. Lost memories and lost dreams, innocence killed, for a life of nightmares and love ripped at the seams.

  5. ***barbarism In Pink City Again! ! !

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