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It was another beautiful day went by
Forget all bad times that made you cry
Instead keep in heart all good memories
Be thankful for all troubles that you faced
Ma. Cristina Colima
My verses are all about you
Every word of them is nothing but true
I don't know when and how
Your dreams planted themselves in my sleeps
C K Rawat
Way To Go
She was born in the hills
dotted with villages quiet and small.
Her village was breathtakingly beautiful
With a scenic landscape,
C K Rawat
Quite A Habit....
Here comes the morning;
Blue sky, lush grass, dew drops
Yet thee not beholding my eyes;
Here comes the noon;
Last night I fell asleep watching the moon from my bedroom window
I imagined that you were watching it too
And for that moment
Rain On Me
Dry as a dessert i am
Would you rain on me once again
I chased you down the dark corridor
I couldn't find you
(16th January 1949)
I thank whatever gods may be
For all the happiness that's mine;
You lived for a short while and then you left me alone
I was not prepared for your demise
It came with its shock
And it still shocks
I hope to dust off sleep from my mind,
and think of you instead.
"If I raised my glass of liver toxins ,
Last Night I Cried!
Last night l cried!
Again I have lied not once, not twice, but more than the eyes on the dice.
Has I sit back and analyzed why do I lied.
Life like lies
impeaches man of little lies
why isn't she perfect that man should lie.
go tell life I have a light to lite
I'm glad these feelings inside stayed
For me to look back at those days.
When we didn't think of times being late,
When the heart shaped stars were our place.
Same night you met me in the park
We laughed, told stories not nightmares
Brought you next to my heart
You know my sweater still smells like you
The Searching Soul.
Slowly slowly my heart is drifting away
I don’t seem to understand anything anymore
Since you left to unknown
Your voice is all I want to hear
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!
Where and what is silence ?
In the stillness of nature,
In the dark night with the glowing moon,
In the cold grave,
Art thou abroad on this stormy night
on thy journey of love, my friend?
The sky groans like one in despair.
Because of my cross, I find this life a misery
Like every cast in this dramatic adventure
The sky is now cloudy
The wind has started to blow up
The birds are flying away in their homes
The tunder is ringing now
We Are But Different
As the time ticks,
A tale, fantasy or real unfolds.
As we share these sips,
Like our cups, these words pour.
Ode To Walt Whitman
By the East River and the Bronx
boys were singing, exposing their waists
with the wheel, with oil, leather, and the hammer.
Ninety thousand miners taking silver from the rocks
Federico Garcàa Lorca
The Little Hurts
Every night she runs to me
With a bandaged arm or a bandaged knee,
A stone-bruised heel or a swollen brow,
And in sorrowful tones she tells me how
Edgar Albert Guest
You are my poison
That keeps me alive,
From all the nonsense
This world subscribes.
Love entered in my heart one day,
A sad, unwelcome guest;
But when he begged that he might stay,
I let him wait and rest.
When twenty-one I loved to dream,
And was to loafing well inclined;
Somehow I couldn't get up steam
To welcome work of any kind.
The hulk of a man with a beer in his hand looked like a drunk old fool,
And I knew that if I hit him right, I could knock him off that stool.
But everybody said, 'Watch out, that's Tiger Man McCool.
He's had a whole lot of fights, and he always come out the winner.
A Short Poem or Else Not Say I
True pleasure breathes not city air,
Nor in Art's temples dwells,
A wind is blowing over my soul,
I hear it cry the whole night thro'-
Is there no peace for me on earth
Except with you?
White founts falling in the courts of the sun,
And the Soldan of Byzantium is smiling as they run;
There is laughter like the fountains in that face of all men feared,
It stirs the forest darkness, the darkness of his beard,
G. K. Chesterton
Her monsters, they come out at night
She tries not to fill her eyes with fright
Tugging under the pillow
Trying not to let the darkness make her feel low
Though we think alike
but our actions are nothing alike
Today, we march in unity
then the next day we are in disparity
Obscurest night involv'd the sky,
Th' Atlantic billows roar'd,
When such a destin'd wretch as I,
Wash'd headlong from on board,
Now ere I slept, my prayer had been that I might see my way
To do the will of Christ, our Lord and Master, day by day;
And with this prayer upon my lips, I knew not that I dreamed,
But suddenly the world of night a pandemonium seemed.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
On Mondays I want to be with you, to fade away the sparkles of evil for the days to follow.
Cuddle with me at night and let us slowly lose ourselves.
Am I coward, April? Am I a coward, because of my inability to confess this all to you - to confess my feelings to you?
The countless thoughts that linger in my head make me think this won’t be right - okay.
When everything's dead
and you're the only survivor.
When everything's gone
with no hope to go on.
Out Of The East
When man first walked upright and soberly
Reflecting as he paced to and fro,
And no more swinging from wide tree to tree,
Or sheltered by vast boles from sheltered foe,
So here, twisted in steel, and spoiled with red
your sunlight hide, smelling of death and fear,
they crushed out your throat the terrible song
you sang in the dark ranges. With what crying
Out Of Catallus
Come and let us live my Dear,
Let us love and never fear,
What the sourest Fathers say:
Brightest Sol that dies today
He rode through the woods on a big blue ox,
He had fists as hard as choppin' blocks,
Five hundred pounds and nine feet tall...that's Paul.
The clouds are always there
ringing three peaks
busy with lightning &
S. K. Kelen
The Corn-stalk Fiddle
When the corn 's all cut and the bright stalks shine
Like the burnished spears of a field of gold;
When the field-mice rich on the nubbins dine,
And the frost comes white and the wind blows cold;
Paul Laurence Dunbar
Never Bite A Married Woman On The Thigh
Never bite a married woman on the thigh oh my
Cause she just can't rub it off no matter how she'll try
And when she gets home at night her man will ask her why
Then she'll say it's just a birthmark or some other silly lie
LONG ago I learned how to sleep,
In an old apple orchard where the wind swept by counting its money and throwing it away,
In a wind-gaunt orchard where the limbs forked out and listened or never listened at all,
In a passel of trees where the branches trapped the wind into whistling, 'Who, who are you?'