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Rohan Gupta Poems
I pushed through. Her visage reflecting in my eyes. Her tears resembling my impotence. Vain masculinity.
You are gone. Your love for me is gone. Your smell lingers in my mind. Your breath, your moves,
Thoughts, they come and go. Like waves wash the shores, back and forth.
There Was Something About Her
There was something about her. Something, beyond words could capture. Something, so subtle...mysterious. Yet, so strangely definitive.
That Night We Made Love
That night we made love to each other. Love, in its truest, purest and fiercest form. It was clearly evident, How much we had missed each other,
Under the starry sky, Far from the din of the day. Closer, More intimate with, within the self,
Take me to your lands, O Goddess! Your lands beyond the clouds. Your lands of free spirits and no boundaries. Take me to your lands, O Goddess!
Content To Die
Tiring, these days have grown. There is a lot on my head. I sit under my porch,
I love the feeling, you know? when you run your hands through my hair. I love the spark, you know? in your eyes when I am with you.
Hard to understand, Harder to defy, LIFE!
Comments about Rohan Gupta
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
I pushed through.
Her visage reflecting in my eyes.
Her tears resembling my impotence.
Beholding her pain writhing body.
My soul drenched in her blood.
Battling her soulful cries.
I raped her.
I didn't tear her hymen.
I tore her dignity, her zeal to live.