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If you have forgotten water lilies floating
On a dark lake among mountains in the afternoon shade,
If you have forgotten their wet, sleepy fragrance,
Then you can return and not be afraid.
A snake came to my water-trough
On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjamas for the heat,
To drink there.
In the deep, strange-scented shade of the great dark carob-tree
D. H. Lawrence
A Servant To Servants
I didn't make you know how glad I was
To have you come and camp here on our land.
I promised myself to get down some day
And see the way you lived, but I don't know!
The more opportunities you give someone,
To be disrespectful towards you,
The more chances are there to lose respect for your own self.
The more you depend on others for getting respect;
Pray For Me
She rushed into a house
darkghost where haltup
evildims where hiddown
Her room was tumultly dreadful
Saviour A Willie
THAT HE SANG AT THE COUNCIL ROCK WHEN HE DANCED ON SHERE KHAN'S HIDE
The Song of Mowgli-I, Mowgli, am singing. Let
the jungle listen to the things I have done.
The Girl She Once Was
she doesn't feel herself anymore
shes now like a frozen version
thin and pale
she slips and fell through the cracks unaware,
I went back to the clanging city,
I went back where my old loves stayed,
But my heart was full of my new love's glory,
My eyes were laughing and unafraid.
The Printing Machine
It begins at the brink of the dawn,
with the sound of chrring printing machine.
Chrring bloody scenes into bold black ink and we drink to that ink that make our stomach sink yet the machine harps happily.
and there goes the busy printing machine louder and louder, More louder than the screams of a woman screaming for help in a warehouse while she was raped, brutally but the fair and lovely ad gets more space snootily and strangly we go on reading the newspaper with our daily cup of tea perpetually.
Set My Limits
I made myself limited, limited to the words eyes and attention, there was no better creation then your presentation. The presentation of your personality was what majority never had. That was what made you limited edition
I made myself scares. I was afraid to lose myself in the darkness of the world. that is why I hid in your light for safety and warmth. In your light my eyes were open. My teacher of life. It was tough love that tought me there is no such thing as love . It was you who thought me how to fight for things that could but that was pure selfish . Who was I looking for knowledge from. A greedy human who knew nothing but herself satisfaction
Upon A Snail
She goes but softly, but she goeth sure,
She stumbles not, as stronger creatures do.
Her journey's shorter, so she may endure
Better than they which do much farther go.
Love Is The Most Important
It's sadness in the world, despair, pain,
Nothing is easy, nothing is certain,
Only the sea, the sun and the sky makes me happy and i think,
That's worthy to fight and for life to win.
Venus And Adonis
Even as the sun with purple-coloured face
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheeked Adonis hied him to the chase;
Hunting he loved, but love he laughed to scorn.
People pray to each other. The way I say 'you' to someone else,
respectfully, intimately, desperately. The way someone says
'you' to me, hopefully, expectantly, intensely ...
The baby bat
Screamed out in fright,
'Turn on the dark,
I'm afraid of the light.'
Be the man the nation needs,
Lead an example to the upcoming generation
Be the voice of the voiceless woman
instead of being the pain of the painless woman.
I Am Strong After All
Am in a realm I can't escape.
Having so many night mares am even afraid to sleep.
Have to wait for that superstitious time to pass.
It's perfect. Then i can sleep in and pretend am lazy and let everyone misjudge me.
Young Fellow My Lad
“Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad,
On this glittering morn of May?”
“I'm going to join the Colours, Dad;
They're looking for men, they say.”
It's a journey . . . that I propose . . . I am not the guide . . . nor technical assistant . . . I will be your fellow passenger . . .
Though the rail has been ridden . . . winter clouds cover . . . autumn's exuberant quilt . . . we must provide our own guide-posts . . .
In Virgil's Sacred Verse we find,
That Passion can depress or raise
The Heav'nly, as the Human Mind:
Who dare deny what Virgil says?
It was deep night, and over Jerusalem's low roofs
The moon floated, drifting through high vaporous woofs.
The moonlight crept and glistened silent, solemn, sweet,
Over dome and column, up empty, endless street;
Said Abner, ``At last thou art come! Ere I tell, ere thou speak,
``Kiss my cheek, wish me well!'' Then I wished it, and did kiss his cheek.
The three stood listening to a fresh access
Of wind that caught against the house a moment,
Gulped snow, and then blew free again-the Coles
Dressed, but dishevelled from some hours of sleep,
Who is she, the poor Maniac, whose wildly-fix'd eyes
Seem a heart overcharged to express?
I feel so vulnerable in this world full of perfectionist
Still don't understand why I can't be my own person
why do I smile with my face covered
why do I try the same clothes 100 times after which I change into another
IT is not Love, this beautiful unrest,
This tremor of longing that invades my breast:
Ego Dominus Tuus
Hic. On the grey sand beside the shallow stream
Under your old wind-beaten tower, where still
A lamp burns on beside the open book
That Michael Robartes left, you walk in the moon,
William Butler Yeats
Tin Wedding Whistle
Though you know it anyhow
Listen to me, darling, now,
Proving what I need not prove
How I know I love you, love.
Do not despair of man, and do not scold him,
Who are you that you should so lightly hold him?
Are you not also a man, and in your heart
Are there not warlike thoughts and fear and smart?
In The Droving Days
"Only a pound," said the auctioneer,
"Only a pound; and I'm standing here
Selling this animal, gain or loss --
Only a pound for the drover's horse?
.life Is A Dance In The Rain
It's raining, it's quiet, only i can hear the rain,
Freshness of air is invading my breath,
The echo of drops falling, the purity of the sky,
It's giving me peace and relieves my pain.
He gave a picture exhibition,
Hiring a little empty shop.
Above its window: FREE ADMISSION
Cajoled the passers-by to stop;
I thought of you when I was wakened
By a wind that made me glad and afraid
Of the rushing, pouring sound of the sea
That the great trees made.
Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know
what despair is; then
winter should have meaning for you.