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Arun C Nov 2014
A
place for spilled
ideas to be caught
maybe even taught
A
wrinkled brown spotted document
rolled with tender bents
for this matrix sent
A
place for the noblest aspirations
to hold most secret motivations
it is really a sensation
A
venerated dusty brown parchment with words
words as powerful as sharp swords
bold words that points mankind towards

all
the
others
  Nov 2014 Arun C
Sylvia Frances Chan
So many loving words have been told
so much fantasy has been sold
to the most beloved of mine
to my only darling thine

not the darling of three years ago
this one I just met him
he saw, he came
and filled my cup to the brim
he just chose me, I remained the same

he was like a stargazer
idem-ditto a fire blazer
that one and that only I gaze
all time set me ablaze

not the lover of three years ago
he's one beau as I above said
believe me, though so
he is my only loved one who never makes me mad

for now
how much as many I get
it is oft too few the fun I bet
since his ever romantic songs
he treated the kilometers not his bed
it was not right but very wrong so I got mad

love across the miles
thousands of kilometers away
much fun you see
so many hugs, so many kisses his way
so much care and love to stay

anyway
these are my honest words
they have not gone  astray
I present these on a tray
my only game of the day
not only in summer or in the hay
but through all seasons each day

my only soliloquy
oh yeah it's really me
the words on my tray so clear
if I may
every month every year
so far and yet so near
so fresh as morning dew
so overloaded
so much and yet so few....



© SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN
Tuesday 18th November 2014
@6.56 hrs a.m. Morn Dew
Sheer Poetry, the Muse is Me
Nothing happened yet,
I have been thinking too much...in bed
but had this urge
to create and have to say these words
  Nov 2014 Arun C
Shannon Delaney
Maybe someday
I’ll write about somebody
Who loves me back
a 10 word peom
  Nov 2014 Arun C
David Lewis Paget
He’d worshipped her since Primary School
And through to the later grades,
He’d carried her books at High School,
And envied her escapades,
She was in demand with her Uni friends
And went with more than a few,
But always said, to make amends,
‘I think I’ll end up with you!’

So he waited for an eternity
For that all-committing kiss,
She plagued his dreams with what would seem
A life that would fill with bliss,
But she seemed to like her fun too much
And returned his engagement ring,
‘I don’t think I’m ready for that, as such,
It’s only a freedom thing!’

But he stayed content, he thought she’d relent
When her fun-filled friends all wed,
Until the day she blew him away
And dropped him, right on his head.
She married a wealthy businessman
Had taken a giant leap,
He said, ‘But you were promised to me,’
And she said, ‘Talk is cheap!’

But he bit his tongue, she was still so young,
And he nursed his sad regret,
Her husband, he was a ladies man
So things might work out yet.
He went to all of their parties, and
He ran all her errands too,
So when, of course, it came to divorce,
She said, ‘I’ll end up with you!’

But she won a great big settlement,
And wanted to have some fun,
‘I’ve done that housewife thing to the hilt,
Don’t stress, don’t force me to run!’
‘You know I’d wait for eternity,
I’d walk to the stars for you,
I’d give my life to make you my wife.’
‘Well, do what you have to do!’

He hung about on the fringes while
She played with a whole new set,
She flirted, went on her binges, and
He found he was waiting yet.
He cried all over the invite that
Had seemed to come out of the blue,
‘We’d welcome you at the nuptials,
Of Elspeth and Gordon Drew.’

Gordon drove a fabulous Porsche
Worth over a hundred grand,
And John could only wave as they passed him,
Off to their fairyland.
But he followed along the old coast road
Though they left him in their wake,
At a hundred and twenty miles an hour
A second is all it takes.

He found them, hanging over the edge
Of the cliff at Dead Man’s Tor,
A sudden move would help it to tip,
Crash down to the rocky shore.
‘Please help, you said you’d walk to the stars
For me, this cliff is steep.’
‘Too bad,’ he said, while walking away,
‘You should know that talk is cheap!’

David Lewis Paget
  Nov 2014 Arun C
Michael
These days
I am too cold
My palms are at rest
Down for the long winter
My coordination and
dexterity will hibernate
And I'll cloak this poor body
With anything I can

An almost married woman
Clings to the hems of my sleeves
With thin fingers
With scissors
There to cut away the warm wool
With wild eyes
and a bitter mouth

She gathers my coat in a basket
Unravels all the careworn fibers
To cast upon her empty loom
As though she'd spun them

Casts off newly sewn kisses
Threadbare affection
Muttering crossly about the weather
And how the sun
does not melt the snow

She is only my friend when
She can touch my bare wrists
Give me white hot iron to hold
And ask me if I'm warmer

Only my friend when
She can graze my skin in surprise
Wrap my hands up with stiff yarn
And ask me what burned them
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