I started climbing lessons are not 23 years old but didn't really take to my instructor or cold so very well at first until I met him in person I didn't personally. Then we started going out for coffee after our climbing lessons and we will talk about different climbing techniques and stuff. Sooner relationship became deeper and deeper and one time when I was climbing he, at 40 kissed me softly and sweetly.  It was my first case since high school and I was an older gentleman his name was Paul he was very good looking very intelligent we had deep conversations about life and poetry we both love poetry and we will talk about that for hours in my room soon he asked me if he could make love to me after one of my lessons. I had to sneak them in my house because he was not allowed in the house because of my parents I was still adult another time and had to put up with my parents rules and that meant no boyfriends after the screwup in high school. And I told him that I would have to sneak him in to my room. You want to discuss poetry and life. He promised me everything he promised to give me a nice deep kiss  on the summer mount Everest as I meet my goal.  Every time we talked about poetry after a lesson of climbing we would end up making love I was always on top of him climbing on top of him riding him dearly and sweetly as if he was fragile but I knew he was in fragile but I just wanted to slow sensual feel of his flesh inside me. As we discussed the topic of the sixth Dalai Lama our lovemaking became more passionate and he actually climbed on top me and got between my legs and gently and slowly thrust his harness and his lines into me I took him by the year and I kissed him on the mouth and I said I want to whisper in your mouth and kiss you as you thrust into me. I always wanted to be in love and this is my first time that I was in love since high school. The lovemaking was sweet I was able to enjoy every minute of it and every touch. One thing I didn't know about my Climbing instructor was that he was a Reiki master and he would always kiss where my chakras were Stopping at the root chakra which would be my womanhood I had to keep quiet because my parents are asleep or watching TV and they had sharpie hearing. But I wanted to moan so lovingly and want to kiss him and scream with pleasure. As we made love we always talked about poetry and we always kissed but I was in between cases that we were talking about the 6th Dalai Lama and his poetry.  I wanted to read the six Dalai Lama's box so badly that I asked him if he had them and he said he did and he was going to give them to me as a special present after the next climbing lesson. Just the thought of reading those books made me so hot and bothered that I made love to him again Paul I mean.

Kristina first falls in love at age 25 with her Everest climbing coach over deep discussion and poetry by the 6th Dalai Lama, but this romance won't last as when she is in Kathmandu, Nepal, she is taken by a junior lama Dorje, a buddhist monk.  They fold in love but what if the monk Changes his mind.

"Give back the paper, not the one that was entered in the competition." Said Dewa
 "Alright, this is good," replied Ningsih
 "Don't be (with a frown)"
 "Alright, this is it?"

 Until Dewa gave up persuading Ningsih.

 "(God said with a melas face), OK"
 "So that's it, love you with Dewa."

 And they both walked to the office and when they got to the office they immediately gave nasakh of Dewa's poetry to the committee.

 "(Handing out a poetry manuscript, Ningsih said) This is a poetry script from our class."
 "(While receiving their script, Mrs. Neli also said), we accept this script."
 "Thanks ma'am" they said in unison.

 After giving the God script they headed straight to the class.  Arriving in class, they talked.

 "Ah, you mah, right because of you I was scolded by that IPA girl" complained Dewa to Ningsih.
 "Well, sorry Wa" said Ningsih
 "Even though yes, I wanted to send a love poem, only I already gave that one, okay?" With a sad face
 "Huh ?, love poetry for whom?" Asked Ningsih in surprise.
 "For you, hahaha, oh yeah, ask for your WA number please"
 "What for?"
 "Yes, just make friends to chat"

 Not thinking long, Ningsih immediately gave her WA number to Dewa.  And after school and when he arrived at Dewa's house, he immediately chatted Ningsih.

 "Hmm, this is Dewa" Said Dewa in chat Wa
 "Yes Wa, what's wrong?" Asked Ningsih to Dewa
 "Nothing, save my number," Dewa ordered to Ningsih.

 Two days later the class meeting began.  And the first race on the first morning is futsal.  However, the gods who were the reserve players didn't care.

 He immediately looked for a quiet place in the classroom just to read the novel "I" while his friends supported another friend who was playing futsal.

 After the futsal match, Ningsih went to class and found Dewa there reading the novel "I".  Then Ningsih went to Dewa.

 "Wa, how come you don't support our class anyway?" Asked Ningsih to Dewa
 "No, because I'm reading a novel," answered Dewa
 "The novel continues"
 "Hehehe, because this novel is good"
 "How about it, I want to see (While getting closer to the body of the god and poking the belly of the god)."
 "What are you?"
 "No, look at Wa, I also want to read"
 "This (While bringing the book closer to Ningsih)"

 They both read novels together.  When they are enjoying reading the novel, they are unknowingly watched by one of their friends, Deri.

 Who was watching them from the classroom window.  Not long after, Deri entered the classroom.  However, before that Deri called the other classmates first.

 "Ciee, ciee (Compact with other classmates)
 "What are you doing?"  Asked Deri
 "Why aren't you dating?"  Asked Ilham
 "Nothing," answered Dewa
 "Alah, lie, could it be that you guys want to do something perverted?" Asked Arif
 "Are you crazy, Rif?  (Asked Ningsih), yes, we want to do pervert, after all, where does Dewa want to be with me?  (Make no mistake) "
 "Hahaha, ciee Ningsih, ciee, apparently you secretly like Dewa, huh?"
 "No, just kidding"
 "Alah, lie (said Dita teasingly)"
 "You really like me, do you?" Asked Dewa
 "Nope. (While leaving God with an embarrassed face)"

 After a while the bell arrived home from school.  And after the evening prayer, the gods chanted Ningsih.  Because Dewa also thought about Ningsih's words that had been ignored at school earlier.

 "Assalamualaikum, Ningsih" greetings Dewa
 "Waalaikum greetings, Wa (Ningsih replied), what's wrong?" Asked Ningsih.
 "Sih, do you really love me?" Asked Dewa
 "Hmmm, what do you do, Wa? Actually, yes, it's just that I've been going out with seniors, Wa (Ningsih lied just to test how much God loves her)"
 "Well ... then why did you even say that you like me? I brought feelings, you know."
 "Hmm, really, really, Wa?"
 "Yes, because I really love you"
 "Seriously, Wa?"
 "Yes, Hmm"
 "Actually, Wa, I don't have a boyfriend, I just lied to you just to test how much you love you"
 "Hemmm"
 "If, you really love me, after the announcement of the winner of the poetry competition, tomorrow you shoot me directly in class"
 "Hmm, really ?, but is it accepted or not?  (Ask Dewa to confirm seriousness, Ningsih) "
 "Yes, God, dear"
 "Okay, tomorrow I will shoot you directly"

 The next day when the announcement of the poetry contest in front of everyone.  Dewa approached Ningsih who was alone with Dita.

 Not long after that, Dewa's name was called out as the first winner in the poetry creation competition.  Dewa went to the stage to stand in front of everyone.

 However, Indri already stands there as the 2nd winner and Indri looks at Dewa with an annoyed face, but they don't talk to each other.

 After the distribution of the gifts, Dewa approached Ningsih just to express her feelings in front of everyone.

 "Sih" Said Dewa to Ningsih
 "What, Wa?" Asked Ningsih.

 Dewa immediately revealed his heart to Ningsih through a poem that was read in front of everyone.

 "I am a writer and you are a rising sun that drives away the cold morning dew.
 I am a writer and you are a dove in a cage.
 You are alone and contemplating the fate of those who eat the carcasses.

 I am a writer and you are a flower that spreads the flowers to make them look beautiful.
 In this garden life is a story to tell and time is as short as a short story.

 However, I am a writer and you are a waterfall that falls from the hills you wet my body with love.  But I don't understand longing, you turn into a bright sky and I am a writer who doesn't understand pictures.

 Life is a gamble that has to sacrifice something for something.
 But, I am a writer and you are a book, I spill the words for me to stick in you so that you will become verses of poetry. "

 And because of Dewa's poetry, everyone except the teachers looked at Dewa and Ningsih.

 "(In low voices the students said) accept, accept, accept" said the students, clapping their hands.
 "(With an embarrassed blush, Ningsih replied), hmm, yes, I want to be your girlfriend"

 After that incident, Dewa and Ningsih were dating and were often together at rest time and often joked during study hours.

 Until they both often get punished.  However, their relationship didn't last long because when they exchanged HP.  She gets a man who claims to be her senior and also claims to be Ningsih's girlfriend.

 Because of that they both broke up.  Then he composed a poem to reveal the incident and gave it to Ningsih through the paper he wrote.

 "Resurrection
 I made it rain
 Fall lost in the forest
 Incarnate early morning dew
 Didn't say anything.
 Turns into an empty hallway
 Silence without a sound.
 And does love always leave scars?
 Memories are only shadows
 Face is just a memory
 A grin is just a clap of hands
 I left in the story.
 Because the horizon and horizon always promise light after dark comes.

 Because of the incident, they both became enemies.  Doni and Jepri are aware of the incident because they are in Indri's class, namely biologic 2.

 So, Doni and Jepri invite Dewa to the class.  Until Dewa too often played to their class, not only to meet them but also to see Indri.  Until he asked for Indri wa number.

Synopsis

 Love fortitude

 Dewa and Indri are students at a high school in South Lampung. When Indri first met Dewa, Dewa was very ignorant, and spoke a little that was the character of Dewa.

 When in 11th grade high school and one night Indri was robbed and Dewa helped him but Dewa lost and he was seriously injured and rushed to the hospital.

 When they had graduated from school they separated. How is the continuation of their story? Because this is my first novel, please keep updating it, please like and follow, so I will be more enthusiastic about writing it.


ig : oipratama._1
blog : hujansajak.blogspot.com
e-mail : riyanoi833@gmail.com

71. Later, you will meet me prostrating in the third of the night. While the others are sleeping, but I pray. Just asking that I be able to make you happy from the previous days. Until I made God and His angels as the only witnesses of the love I have for you until this moment. Until the angels are willing to say aameen to him. Until God smiled, then blessed him. (1394th poem, 09 May 2017)
72. Cheer up dear, live today with the most beautiful smile you have. Don't worry about the ugly dust, I have removed them. Don't worry about the sharp gravel blocking the road, they have been fixed by me. (1404th poem, May 10 2017)
73. Do you see, God? Her smile was so beautiful, it was full of charm. (1378th Poem, May 08 2017)
74. Now, nothing else is mine that is completely mine. Nothing is more complete than all of mine. Now, mine is yours. My world, my poetry, the sky and even the sky of my heart, has been filled with everything about you. (1398th poem, May 10 2017)
75. And I have embedded my poetry on your body. May you be not only a place for all my poetry to rest on, but a place for me to live and settle down. Hopefully, your harbor is a place for me to always return to. (1424th poem, May 10 2017)
76. I love you through the verse of poetry. Simple, if my poetry stops writing, then at that moment you will know that I have stopped loving you. (1410th poem, May 10 2017)
77. Sometimes when you sing, I ask questions, come back guessing. Who is the lucky boy who managed to penetrate the cavity in your chest? (1382th poem, 09 May 2017)
78. I don't greet you directly, it doesn't mean I don't care about you. All my attention has been devoted to prayer and poetry. Where my little writing is always implied the deepest meaning of affection and sincerity. (1269th poem, 27 April 2017)
79. And if the river of letters that I write always leads to a sea of ​​poetry that has definitely bonded with you, then what should I do to stem it? While you also know that no matter how far the river flows, no matter how fast the river ripples, it still passes away to the crashing waves in the middle of the sea. (1330th Poem, May 04 2017)
80. I write poetry here not only to amaze you, but as a way to make you smile. At the end of the twilight, I have come to help solve your problem. So that when the night picks up and the twinkling of the stars begins to appear, you can fall asleep along with all the beautiful dreams and stories. (The 1134th poem, 16 April 2017)

My poems were the first I wrote. Track record of how I became a writer. About love, sincerity, ignorance of what people say; the most important thing is my world is calm. Starting from the meeting stage, loving secretly, until the stage of letting go, now (me and my feelings) are immortal in poetry. || Temporary hiatus, currently composing poetry into a story.

Indian English Poetry is not just a branch of Indian literature in English. It is now an essential part of Indian- English literature. In fact, it primarily defines Indo-Anglian literature in the sense that in its birth, Indian-writing in English came to the force with a global recognition. Like American poetry, Indian English poetry is highly distinctive in various aspects.  It is not a product that sprang into being in a span of a few years or a few decades.  It is a well-furnished product, thoroughly polished from its raw state into its present having undergone an evolution for more than a century since its inception in the early nineteenth century.
 India is a multicultural, multi-lingual and multi-racial country and its varied regions, cultures, races, languages and religions contributed amply to the enrichment of Indian-English poetry. In the early nineteenth century, the poets were severely assaulted and mercilessly ridiculed for their so called anti-national Anglophile tendencies. They were condemned. Nevertheless, the Indian English Poet quite heroically, weathered all the humiliations, winning global recognition and reputation.
The evolution of Indian English Poetry makes an interesting history that goes back to pre-independence India and links it up to the Post-independence India. The various socio-cultural factors played a very significant role in shaping the sensibilities of the educated in India during this period. With the introduction of English language as the medium of instruction in schools, colleges and universities, the people in India came in contact with the whole world outside India and interacted with the intellectuals of different countries in the world. They grasped their country's position politically, socially and economically.
 
With Derozio, who  was a teacher in senior section of the Hindu college, there came a regeneration in Bengal with  "The Fakeer of Jungheera" which  is a long undulating poem where Nuleeni the heroine who is a young Hindu widow is on the verge of mounting the sacrificial pyre whom she never loved, thus escaped with the bandit Fakeer to his cave but with the twist Nuleeni's fear came true and Fakeer's life is lost when the army arrives at the abode of Fakeer and Nuleeni cradles him in her arms and dies together. Derozio thus depicted the inhumanity of sati, the false morality of the women and the hypocritical chanting of the brahmins.
Derozio's intense awareness of India's past glory manifests in many of his poems. In "To India my native land" Derozio goes to the extent of imagining India as a goddess beauty of the halo of her glory. Derozio  desires to review and recollect India's past with passionate devotion.
"well-let me dive to the depths of time,
And bring from out the ages, that have rolled
A few small fragments of those wrecks sublime"
Derozio's another sonnet, "The Harp of India" recalls the glory of the past of India through an image of the musical instrument which produced sweet sound once upon a time but is totally silent now:
'Thy music once was sweet-who hears it now?"
Recollecting India's rich heritage, he considers it his prime duty to regain the country's noble culture
"Those hands are cold—but if thy notes divine
May be by mortal wakened once again,
Harp of my country, let me strike the strain"
These sonnets are more attractive to the reader because of the theme of love, death, patriotism and Indianness respectively and the language being English in its medium which makes the line linger in the readers mind.
 
Toru Dutt represented a very crucial period of Bengal and her poetry shared the quality of being 'distinctively post-colonial'A major displacement in various aspects had occurred: change in religion, place and learning foreign languages like French and thus she translated many French works into English. "A sheaf gleaned in French fields"; the only book published during her lifetime brought her well deserved international acclaim.
Toru's seven miscellaneous poems put together at the close of 'Ancient Ballads' are more or less autobiographical and the experiences and the impression of the poetess in this poem is extremely personal.
The two sonnets 'baugmaree' and 'the lotus' have been praised by one and all. In the first the poetess displays her love for nature where he calls the garden as 'primeval eden' which is girt round with its sea of foliage and amidst it one is bound to feel refreshed and cheerful and is finely executed :
"One might swoon
Drunken with beauty then, or gaze and gaze
On a primeval eden, in amaze."
The lotus professes to give the origin of 'the queenliest flower that blows'. To end the strife whether the lily or rose were queen, psyche at last went to flora and asked for a flower that should be 'delicious as the rose and stately as the lily in her pride'. The result was the lotus, rose-red and lily white.
'Our Casuarina Tree'  expresses a poignant grief for the loss of her sister Aru and brother Abju recollected thought of the sight of the tree under whose shadow they played as children  are no more and might have reached to an 'unknown land' and thus wishes that the wail of the tree should reach them as she is confined to bed with her illness lying awake all night. The last stanza of the poem unfolds her desire for the immortality of the tree and thus ends like
'my love defend thee from oblivion's curse'
Toru Dutt's poetry intrinsically relate to a nation's language, to its life and tradition. Toru Dutt's poetry circulates between various literatures French, English, and Sanskrit that she read, wrote and translated and the Bengali tongue she was born into.
 
Prominent poets named henry Derozio, Toru Dutt, Tagore, Aurobindo, Vivekananda, and so on have stretched and refined the domains of Indian English poetry and the major elements in their works are nature, love, separation, Hellenism, nationalism, humanism and freedom which formed the framework of sensitive minds. They steeped in Indianness bit by bit and revealed the evolution of a unique poetic approach that probe the inner and outer world and exhibited immense ethical commitment to society.
 


As usual today I  started reading gossip about my parents, now again my mom is on the negative side. Well, this time I even can't refute, my mother actually didn't know about my dad's talent. Everyone in Europe knows that my dad writes poetry and it used to be published in the editorial column before these blogs and tweeters came into the picture. I clicked the link of extended scenes, my parents were sitting in the garden area near the fountain. 
My dad pouted and in a fake sad voice he said, "What type of wife you are, how can you don't know I write poetry?" 
Sukhwinder shrugged her shoulders and replied, "I don't remember because I never read it." 
August's jaw dropped  in surprise, "I used to write  poetry in front of you, and my diary was always on the bed."
Sukhwinder, "I am a good girl, I didn't want to ruin my mood and yours after reading all your private thoughts. Don't know how many bad things you must have written about me. I don't want to embarrass myself. Oh, I forgot that poet's name who has written bad things about his wife in his poetry which made him successful. "
August couldn't control his laugh, "I think you should ask Sophie or Anjali about my poetic skill and my theme of poetry." Then he closed his eyes to take a nap on the garden bench.
The video was over and in the upcoming episode  Diljit will disclose the mystery behind why he learned Mandarin.
The next episode was aired in the evening. The scene started with Ricky asking Diljit why he learned mandarin. Diljit with a sad face started his narration, " There was a girl in my college she was very pretty. I fell in love, many people called her Chinese, so I learned Chinese to impress her. I went well prepared to say my love confession. But the twist of the story is that the girl was not Chinese but was from Mizoram which is a state in North East India. The girl thought I was making fun of her looks, she was so angry that I got a slap on my cheek, and also she called me racist. After that, I took my Indian Map seriously."Everyone couldn't control their laughter, but seeing his serious face everyone's laughter grew louder and louder.
Even me and Erin couldn't control our laughter, really today's episode was hilarious, not only this even my mom also made everyone laugh. The thing happens this way as per my dad's saying. My mom asked Sophie and Anjali about the poetry my father has written. Both of them told my mom that his poetry was available in Newspapers and Anjali told the most interesting fact that Sophie also didn't know. Anjali told them that August had written his first poetry when he was 19 and it was romantic poetry about how a girl was drying her wet hair and was wearing a very short transparent white dress .while he was staring her from the door. Anjali was praising the poetry when Sukhwinder said, "I feel it is creepy that someone was sneaking in a girl's room"
Sophie Miller first time agreed with her and even Keiko felt that it is creepy but during that time it was considered romantic if the hero is doing something creepy, people romanticize and if the villain is doing the same thing then it will be considered as a sin. Listening to this Anjali felt a little embarrassed. But this was not the end, my mom straight went to my dad and confronted him.
And Sukhwinder said in a very stern and disappointed way, "August how would you do this."
August with a confused expression looked at her while Sukhwinder continued  "I never thought that you used to peek on girls in their bedroom."
August lifted his hand up to his chest while his palm was facing Sukhwinder, gesturing for her to stop. "Hold on a second, tell me the whole story from the beginning",  asked August.

Synopsis
“An International reality show where two exes accidentally arrived having their own motives.
One had come for fame and others because of a bet, will they be able to achieve their goals or past emotions will ignite.
Will they overcome their emotions or start a new relationship? 
Let’s follow their journey in the game show where will you be able to see reel and real  romance”
Disclaimer: Credits for the picture goes to my sister. Don't copy without my permission. Don't post my work on other sites.



Announcement:I will be posting this story on RoyalRoad
https://unisonofgeekshow.wordpress.com Please visit this site for side stories.

"Tell me your experiences and let's see what fate holds for you and them."

     She stood from that end of the cave and came to sit close to him. The walls of the cave were no longer cold and emotionless, they were then warm and have got life seeped in them. 

Vulcan could savor the life therein and was going to complement the fairy's words:

      "That which I'd love to tell or which I wish to forget?"

       The fairy had changed back into the beautiful lady she used to be. He did love her in that form, and not in some forms which was lack-sanity and kill-emotions. Some deep dipshit.

 He was sure that he knew what she was thinking about. 

      "The one you wish to tell because you won't forget, and the ones you won't tell and wish to forget."

       He smiled. He had no idea what did intrigue her to wield words in such manner. Twas something which ought not to intrigue. 

He seemed to be addicted to words and only push motions that would complement the addiction. To him, it did seem as though all the spiritual figures he had been seeing had been playing around words. 

And so was the fairy. Probably twas a ritual in the spirit land. 

       "I write poems. I am poet."

      "What are poems?"

      He turned to her. He wanted to convince himself that he wouldn't have to explain every word he did mention to her, else he would quit speaking. How would he explain all the words?

     "Poems are offshoots of poetry."

       "Answers that give questions are better steered cleared of."

       She decided to pick a stone which was lying by her feet. He had no idea what she was going to do with it, but he did know that she obviously understood his stance in the argument. 

       "Poetry is a beautiful maiden with grits and glory. It's draped in such fame that only few take note of it. Few dotes, even devoutly dotes on it."

       She aimed the stone at the wall of the cave as the stone fought its way through the wall of the cave and poured out a cup of water from the hard wall. 

In a jiffy, she was already there and had her mouth to the dribbles of water from the wall. He looked amazed and knew know what to do. 

       "Many mercies for the stray."

       She was already by his side again. She nodded him to the continuation of the explanation. Then at once, she did seem to have something to say:

        "If thou dote on poetry, even devoutly dote on it, why then do you have a wife?"

      He smiled. He wasn't so shocked with the question. He knew already that he was chatting with a fairy, hence, the distinction of thoughts. 

He tried to sort a soothing answer. That was all that he did need. He did seem to find one:

      "To me, formerly, idolatry is not much of a deal. Man must do whatever he does like without a pause. Man must have ways with what he did want to do. Therefore, I dote on poetry and poetry only."

     She was no longer at his left side anymore, she was rather at the right.

 He didn't know when she did change her position. Of course that should be owed to disappearing. 

      "I do not esteem idolatry. That was why I sent the eldest of the tigers who was very experience to mar the breath of Myclops. I won't be a toss of idolatry. If you will dote on poetry, devoutly do so. If thou would dote on me, devoutly do so. Do not be tossed about like the wanky winds blown hither and tither."

      She wore a felon frown. He was trying to understand if she did love him or was just playing around the words. 

He understood what she was saying and wasn't ready to maintain an argument. He would never quit writing, neither would he quit having sex with her.

 She did want him to choose, how was he supposed to do that. She was merely selfish. She shouldn't be so.

 Why would she think that she would be the only one to have her? He wouldn't make his face tell the tales of the throbbing thoughts. 

       "Then I wrote about poetry of fear and death, of pain and rage, of sea and terrors, of venom and wiles, of destruction and annihilation, of disaster and earthquakes, of duels and of war, of Poseidon and of several gods, of Nymphs and Mermaids, of Centaurs and Imps, of Satyrs and Faggots, and then of the one who lived above the apt azure and the body of misty silhouettes."

       He paused to sweep his thoughts into a whole. He wanted to arrange them and figure out where to start from. But she snapped at the chance:

       "Do you devoutly dote on me or on idolatry?"

       He continued. 

        "Then was I  caught in the claws of merry, a day when Cupid met with Dionysus on the wings of the worn winds about the affairs of the earthens. 

A joy was birthed at their meeting and so, a light was pointed, whose ray lit the gloom of all the villagers. I, a culprit as well to the cave of Myclops went, to celebrate his installment and figure out what he would be basked in. 

Not to be acquainted with the gods or something, but to know the places all were placed and confined even if they were not visible.


        Then did I fight my freedom from the claws of merry and leapt at booze. Generous booze held me worthier of all those who leapt at him and smothered my wits, chopped my sanity into confetti.

Then was my vision boozed then bruised. That I, the maiden of Anthony called, the three Nymphs of the gaunt grotto. 

And the cave of Myclops to me was a body of a rude sea. And sea in my eyes, went down I to swim and swim my way out of this world.

 And so did I! Swam my way out and was transported by generous waves to what was called my fantasy."

      He paused. He felt his throat was drying up. He needed something to damp it with. 

He looked by the right, the fairy was no longer there, she was already before him. She did speak up again:

      "Do you devoutly dote on Poetry and me as well?"

      He wanted to run through the course of his experience:

      "Then saw I a lawn of sea which contradicts that which on the earth is. It's like a glass and callous crystal. When I wondered for naught what it was, I wandered. Before I wandered, I saw the lips of the sea spoke (for it has no waves), though I did not hear. Fear made mess of my grit and was I quaking, anticipating my death. But felon fate whose wits had been plagued by lust tossed an eerie form. A dolphin note did the lips of the sea croon and I was pissed. Then I wandered. 

        To eat only, for hunger would always find a room for itself everywhere. Both in reality and fantasy. The place was a spell of time for strange sight never bore out the sight.

 Then saw I a fruit, ate and ate my want to fill. A fruit only there equates twelve square meals here on earth. Saw I a spring and would go there to fetch water for remonstrating throat. 

But then, after my heart, weary of several calls lured the lips to a song, heard I a shout from the sea. Like a crazed panther, toppled I through the path till there I was borne.

       And I stood before fear and awe. Oh no! Get it not wrongly. Stood I before one who sent fear through my spines and the other who seeped awe in my reins.

 Hence, the odds. Poseidon, even odd Poseidon, was before me with his serpent. A clown firstly I mistook him for and yet doubt his authencity, for he's wavery and knavish.

 Dragged me he on the Leviathan and drove away in a haste to my fantasy where he did tell me that I would act everything I had written back on earth. 

But few foils were made too. For I made love with several Nymphs in my fantasy, and I'm sure that I didn't write about that. 

Why would I? My daughters read my poems. What treachery to virginity would the imagination of sexual conference be."

     He was done talking. He knew that. He didn't know if the fairy would still be interested. He wasn't even sure. The fairy stood up immediately and spat rage into his face. 

      "How inconstant and lack-propriety you are. To leap from several maidens to me. From Poetry to the Nymphs and now to me. Be gone now and let us cross paths no more. If you won't be gone, for love I'll give you my home, but for honour of fair love I'll be gone."

     The fairy vanished. He had no idea what to think. He already knew. Everything happened o
too quickly. He couldn't be sure if the fairy would return to him anymore. He stood up.

"What would you like to be? A toad, serpent, bench, signet, papyrus, pot of Cauldron? Say."

 What kinda crazy list was she making? How crazy she was. She couldn't even make any soothing and pleasurable form. He would take those as a message from a cherub in hell. 

 "A necklace!"

 "So be it."

 She touch his erection (the closest thing to her) and he turned immediately into a necklace. A necklace with a green blob. 

She wore it around her neck and slid it into the path between the two enormous boobs.

 That was all Vulcan had ever wanted. That moment should never pass away...

 * * *

Vulcan was a horror poet when he was alive. On the day when Myclops, the village priest was to dedicate the cave to Medusa, Vulcan got drunk. And in his subconsciousness, he was caught up into his fantasy. There he was met by Poseidon, the god of the sea, before a sea of glass. He was welcomed into his fantasy. There he was to act all the things he had written in his poems. 

 It aint as easy as whichever way you are looking at it. Remember he was a horror poet. Enjoy his fantasy with him. How he met Medusa, several nymphs and fairies and discovered the secret of the wierd priest.

 He would fight Poseidon, Leviathan and maybe God too, because he wrote all those in his poems.

 * * *

 DISCLAIMER

 TO ALL THE READERS. ESPECIALLY TO THOSE WHO THINK THEY KNOW ALL. {APOLOGY IF THAT WAS RUDE}

 FROM CHAPTER 2 - 50 PERHAPS, THE USE OF WORDS IS QUITE REMOTE AND COULD BE A LITTLE BIT ANNOYING SINCE THE WRITER MADE AN EXCESSIVE USAGE OF "THE THIRD PERSON OMNISCIENT NARRATIVE TECHNIQUE". THAT IS, THE WRITER EXCESSIVELY PLAYED ON THE THOUGHTS OF THE CHARACTERS BY REPEATING AND REPEATING AND REPEATING WHICH COULD PRETTILY BE ANNOYING. 

 THEREFORE, TO SAVE YOURSELF OF THE STRESS, YOU CAN SIMPLY START READING THE BOOK FROM CHAPTER 60 OR SO. DO NOT BE BOTHERED. YOU WON'T MISS OUT ON MUCH. IT'S A BOOK OF STAGES OF FANTASY. PLUS THE BOOK WILL EXTEND TO 1K CHAPTERS. 

 SO, NO READER SHOULD GO TO THE REVIEW SECTION AND START COMPLAINING ABOUT REPETITION OF THOUGHTS OF THE CHARACTERS BECAUSE IT HAS BEEN DISCUSSED HERE. DO NOT DIMINISH THE REPUTATION OF THIS BOOK. READING IS BY CHOICE. 

 PLUS, THE WRITER MIGHT FIND TIME TO EDIT THE MENTIONED CHAPTERS AND HELP THE READERS TO UNDERSTAND WHAT HE WAS TRYING TO DO WITH THE EXCESSIVE PLAY ON WORDS. 

 WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF AN ANCESTOR.

 TO BE FOREWARNED IS TO BE FOREARMED.

 THANKS FOR STOPPING BY.

Sven brought me to a part. He brought me to a fricking park. It is winter. Cold! Freezing outside! And he brought me to a park. Who brings a girl to a park during winter? Is this even legal? I knew it. I knew it from the beginning, he wants to murder me. Murder me in the snow. Well at least my sister has a picture of him. Why would he even take the picture if he wanted to kill me? OH MY GOD this isn't his real face he's probably wearing some sort of prosthetic face. Damn why didn't I think of that before? I haven't been watching enough crime shows lately that's why. As soon as I find a way to get out of the situation I am going to watch all the crime shows in the entire world. Oh NO but I'll need to change my location because he knows where I live. That means I'll have to change my identity as well.

"Umm why are we here? You do know this is a park and we are in winter right?" Annoyance was sipping through my voice.

"Yes I know but I promise I have a reason and we don't have to go outside" 

"Okay" I rolled my eyes.

"Umm so if you didn't notice by now I'm not from here. I came here at the age of 10 and the first day I arrived I stumbled upon this park. I like to come here to think when I'm feeling emotional. The beauty of what's Infront of me really gives me peace. I thought since you was feeling a bit emotional earlier I would just swing past her to just admire the surroundings. I also made something for us to eat"

"Oh okay I'm sorry I reacted that was earlier"

"It's okay I understand" 

I stared out into the frost window taking in my surroundings.

"It is beautiful"

"Yup"

To the left there was a greyish stone statue with a stone what looks like a wheel that you stare with on a boat. The view was amazing. Buildings could be seen across the horizon. All looking dull grey with white icy fluffy snow covering them.

"During the summer seeing the clouds in that direction just makes you feel so warm. Almost like you can ride on the clouds. It's so beautiful"

"Mmm"

Just a little direction away a bench white a light pole can be seen but that wasn't the spectacular part. Out in the distance the sun is slowly making its way to the surface. Giving the buildings in that direction a rich glow.

"That view makes me want to write a beautiful poem" I said in awe.

"Well you can"

"Maybe not today"

"Over there was a cherry blossom tree so pink and vibrant. Oh how I wish I met you sooner to show you the magnificence of it all. And that lake before it was frozen over the water used to reflect green and blue. Ducks swimming away but the real beauty for me was the trees. How they just stand there withstanding everything is just marvelous"

"I love trees they are my favourite. They remind me of something important. That no matter what life throws your way you can still be strong. In fact it makes you stronger. We were born survivers"

"Yup that's a very important message"

"It's so wonderful how much nature can inspire you and teach you so much lessons. Just simple yet powerful"

"Yup very much so"

"The sun rise
Kissing the lonely sky
The trees stand
Wrapped by the arms of the land
The flowers are freeze
Waiting to be loved by the bees"

Sven just stared at me as I made up the poem on the spot.

"Waw that was a beautiful poem. You are amazing so much talent"

"Thank you" I said blushing.

"When did you start writing poetry or how?"

"Well I started writing poetry at the age of eleven. I used to write stories at first but no one wasn't really interested in it. When I was in grade six in primary school the reached introduced poetry to us and I wrote my first poem. Everyone fell in love with it and it made me feel good. You know. I felt appreciated like everyone was really seeing me for the first time so I continued. Entering secondary school though my poetry changed. I was using poetry as my therapy. It was my way of speaking. Everything was getting harder. Everything was changing and so poetry was my comfort. It still is"

"Waw I guess everyone has that one thing they can count on to make them feel better. Mines are music and art. Some days I just play my soul away on my piano or guitar. The melody of the sorrowful song and how it can touch your soul and release all your pain. Is magic to me. They way I can express myself by a single brush stroke. It really is magic"

"Yup it really makes us feel less lonely in the world" 

We fell into a comfortable silence while eating egg and bacon sandwiches and drinking coffee.

It's nice having someone to talk to. It's been a while since I've had such a thoughtful and wonderful conversation. Usually boys would want to talk constantly about sex and that really annoys me. Sven however is actually having a conversation, a meaningful conversation with me. I think I like him more already.

We stayed for a while in silence watching the sun rise. Lost in our minds.

"Yes so we should be on our way to our first official location. I hope you enjoy the day I have planned for us. I picked some things I thought you would like but also not having you moving up to much to get you tired"

Sven started the van and we was on our way.

"Can you play some music?" I asked him.

"Sure"

The radio was turned on and NF if you want love was playing.

"Yes I love him. One of my favourite rappers" I shouted.

"Me to"Sven grinned.

🎶I just need some time, I'm tryna think straight
I just need a moment in my own space
Ask me how I'm doin', I say "okay," yeah
But ain't that what we all say?
Sometimes I think back to the old days
In the pointless conversations with the old me
Yeah, back when my momma used to hold me
I wish somebody woulda told me🎶

And then the chorus started playing both of us joining in on the singing.

🎶If you want love, you gon' have to go through the pain
If you want love, you gon' have to learn how to change
If you want trust, you gon' have to give some away
If you want love, if you want love🎶

We laughed.

"Damn Sven you can sing so well"

"Well you wasn't to bad yourself" Sven told me smirking.

"We have arrived"

"I see a grey building with nice architecture but where exactly is here?"

"You would get to see when you enter. I have a feeling once inside you're going to love it. First I'll need to blindfold you"

"Why?"

"To make the surprise even more grand"

"Okay if you say so"

"Get up you both quickly. I have some important task for you both. If you do my task then I promise to show you my new mathematical invention." The boy barged inside the room, quickly waking up the two sleeping boys.
"Huh? What is it?" spoke up a boy, startled at the impatient man.
"What is so important, that you are even willing to show us your invention for that?" the other boy rubbed his eyes, waking up instantly.
"I want you both to keep an eye on that boy Gothis. He is definitely up to smoothing and I think it is related to that new girl Marigold." Fasik spoke up in much frustration and anger.
"Oh, the king's sister? The one you have your heart upon?" the sleeping boy got up instantly looking at Fasik with worried eyes.
"Yes and guess who else has started liking her? None other than Gothis. That boy is very clever. He always takes my things away from me. Now he also aims to take away the girl I adore by writing those love poems. But I do not know how to write such letters, so what will I do?" the boy sat down on a stone made seat, in much perplexity.
"Don't worry about writing and poetry. I will teach you such amazing poetry that you will remember the art of writing in your every next birth. You just tell us, how do we keep an eye on the boy?" spoke a boy as he took out a paper and a feather from his desk. "We need to see one of his copies to how he writes. I can then easily copy and write a better letter for you."
"Ok. So this soled half the problem then. Now we just need to see, when the boy gives the next letter. As soon as he runs away, I will be standing in front of the girl's room and will pretend to have gotten late and then will recite a beautiful poem to her. Write me few nice lines, so that I learn them by heart." Fasik smirked in an impish manner as his friend had already started to write the poem.
"Ok. In meanwhile, I will go and keep a check on his room and let you know when he gives the next letter. He might do that on the way to his class." The other boy too got up from his bed, straightway walking out of the room, towards Gothis's room, settling himself in between the dense trees.
In the meanwhile... Fasik was waiting for is fried to finish poetry so that he can learn it by heart and give proof to the girl that he was the one sending her letters. "How long will you take?"
"Give me ten more minutes. I am writing something amazing for you." The boy quickly wrote a few more lines and after ten minutes, handed over the paper to Fasik. "Here learn this all by heart. I am the master of literature student; nobody can beat me in writing. The girl will surely fall madly for this, if she loves poetry. After school I will start teaching you other tricks of writing and in a few days, you will be an expert yourself and will not need my help."
"Wow. This is beautiful. Thank you. I do owe a lot to you" Fasik quickly held the paper I his hand, and started to learn the lines by heart, without even understanding its meaning.
Meanwhile...
Gothis had quickly gotten ready for his class, and was now sitting on his bench inside his room, writing another letter for the girl. The boy was totally unaware that, one of Fasik's friends was already keeping an eye on him.
In another one hour, he wrote a beautiful poetry for the girl, and smiled reading it with much satisfaction.
"I don't love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, 
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom but carries
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
from the earth lives dimly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don't know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death."
The boy smiled happily, and quickly got up from his seat, and picked up his linen sack filled with his books. The weak boy had a very simple dressing, and was always dressed in a plain and baggy linen gown. He always carried a simple sack with him, in which he always had several books and other mathematical tools in it. He walked out of the room, happily walking towards his class. This tie delivering the letter was easy for him as most of the students had already left for their respective classes and in his point of view he as the only one left.
He was casually walking towards the girl's room, when Fasik's friend had already informed the boy about his letter, in his hand and Gothis did not know that Fasik was slowly following him. 
"I hope the girl is still in her room, when the boy knock and runs away. And I hope he runs away this time too, so that I show my face to her." Fasik took deep breaths in much nervousness, as he slowly followed the boy from amidst the dense trees.
Gothis halted outside the girl's room and slid the letter from underneath the door. He knocked again twice and instantly ran away in full speed, towards his classroom. 
Fasik quickly ceased the opportunity and sprinted towards the girl's room standing outside it. He could hear somebody's quick footsteps approaching the door, and Fasik quickly pretended to run away from the room.
Marigold instantly opened the door and yet again turned left and right and gasped in shock as she saw a boy running away from her room. "Please stop. I have seen you already. There is no use of hiding your face now." The girl spoke a bit loudly, pointing her finger at Fasik.
Fasik yet had his back towards the girl and he was now smirking devilishly as his plan had just gotten successful. The girl had already considered him as the boy who had been constantly delivering her the letters. "You... you did not go to the class? I thought you must not be in your room." Fasik had yet not turned to look at the girl, as he pretended to be extremely shocked and petrified.
"No. I had already known that you would drop another letter thinking that I am in class. So I stayed back to see your face, please turn to look at me, I want to see the face of the man, who can do wonders with his lines. You poetry has kept me awake all night and I really wanted to see your face. Please turn to look at me." Marigold spoke in much curiosity as her face blushed finally having the man she wanted to meet.
"I am scared. My love for you is so pure that I am scared it will get wiped away with you anger. My love is so pure that it just cannot bear any separation from you." Fasik spoke in an anguished tone, yet not turning to look at the girl.
"If you love is pure then you should not hesitate in showing your face. Pure love needs no validity and it will always shine, no matter who tried to destroy it." The girl smiled a bit, looking at the boy's back. The boy was dressed in a royal silk gown, which was decorated with precious gems. He had today specifically chosen to wear the most elegant and rare gown, that anybody could wear. He then stopped smiling and finally turned to look at the curious girl in much happiness, though his face only showed his fake nervousness. "This is just because now you have questioned the purity of my love for you. I can do anything to prove, how much I adore you and how much you mean to me. If you remember I had approached you earlier, but you got rally angry at me. But even at that time, my each and every word was true for you." The boy took deep breaths finally turning up his lowered head to look at the surprised girl. She had immediately recognized him.


This is the continuation of Vol 2, of 
"He is a Nymphomaniac" from chapter 768.

It is advised to read the first book, "He is a Nymphomaniac"
 to understand the contents of this book. 

**********

How will the life of the kids of your favourite characters turn out to be?

Will they have to struggle like Rose and Rhehan or will they have to fight there lineage like Kareem? 

Are they strong enough like Stefen and brainy like Raol?

Read to enjoy another heart warming and rollar coaster journey!

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