On this day :
1935 Babe Ruth retires, 1774 Parliament completes the Coercive Acts with the Quartering Act, 1970 Race car driver and designer Bruce McLaren dies in crash, 1815 Philip Kearny is born, 1954 McCarthy charges communists are in the CIA, 1985 Serial killing spree is put to an end, 1921 Flash floods ravage Colorado, 1865 American Civil War ends, 1886 President Cleveland marries in White House, 1924 The Indian Citizenship Act, 1953 Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II, 1997 McVeigh convicted for Oklahoma City bombing, 2012 Longtime Egyptian leader Hosni Mubarak sentenced to life in prison, 1989 Dead Poets Society released in selected theaters, 1977 Raymond Carver quits drinking, 1962 Ray Charles takes country music to the top of the pop charts, 1823 Ashleys fur trappers attacked by Indians, 1886 Grover Cleveland gets married in the White House, 1924 Coolidge signs Indian Citizen Act, 1985 English football clubs banned from Europe, 1965 First contingent of Australian combat troops arrives, 1967 Green Beret doctor convicted in courtmartial, 1915 AustroGerman forces attack Russians at Przemysl, 1944 United States begins shuttle bombing in Operation Frantic,

Poems

Unrequited

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All unfeigned relationships,

Commence, in celestial efflorescence.

But, passion unreciprocated-

Is like an exanimate corpse,

(vehemently 'lifeless' 'cause there are throbbing dead bodies in the present world!)

A fish out of water,

A sky without Sun,

A night without stars,

An orphan with no fortune.

 

All relations, mightn't be deemed towards eternity,

But only some, on echt, veritable grounds-

Jaunt towards eonian fraternity.

 

Friendship-typically reckoned-

To be the adept beginning,

Is proved by the modern-world,

To take the helm of counterfeit.

 

"No offense", best allies-

Germinated, life mates,

This isn't the Victorian era prolonged,

A long lost Shakespearean whim,

Nevertheless fancies a few, apiece,

Persistent remnants of the currently debarred-

"Golden Age".

 

Somewhere, we all have read,

"Love is a hollow sham. Life's a farce!"

That's almost nigh today,

When mostly heartless automatons-

Commune, indigent and insolvent,

In emotions. Mostly, the debated counterparts-

Are allies,

Who eruditely know each other,

Who bask a sapid walk together,

Who confide, and entrust-

Their inscrutable mysteries, to each other,

And, colossally more to go on,

Towards making the perfect match.

 

But still, one's proffer to other,

Is an effete disposition.

The other will indisputably twitch-

The unsought, abominable nerve,

Assaying to accentuate the better one's-

Impuissant frailties, and to bash it-

With all vigour.

 

Then follows,

The debouched,

Cold-blooded, jubilation-

Of the one who inflicted anguish-

Over the inauspicious one who still-

Haven't subdued his inner conflicts,

Grounded on the savage, flimflam sting,

Of petty coquetry, or the hollow, vacuous,

Sham of unrequited love.

 

Guys, to plunge yourself in-

Irrecoverable grief,

Might match an epic ballad's restating.

But, 21st century Rhapsodies,

Should be based on protagonists,

Who easily convalesce,

Wiping off ineffective dust from his torso,

Who care no more for lost sands,

Cause a lustrous horizon of Life,

Lies Ahead,

And 'cause'Robert Frost' had written invaluable verse,

For generations to emulate.

 

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