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 Feb 2018 Seema
Vale Luna
(read forward, then backward, line by line)

I ran.
Not knowing what else to do
There was so much blood on my hands
It was mine
The kitchen knife
Caught in my chest
Guilt
Consumed by
Fear
I was heightened by
Adrenaline
But running on
Wasn’t enough
While trying to stay calm,
Losing control
It was me that would end up
Dead. Because
He was
In front of me
The whole time
It was too late
Trapped
I found myself
Locked in chains
My fate was
Death.
Forward: from the victims perspective.
Backward: from the murderers perspective.

This TOOK ME FOREVER TO WRITE
 Feb 2018 Seema
Audi
Valentine's Day
 Feb 2018 Seema
Audi
The day for the happy to appreciate
What they have

The day for the broken to wish
They had never lost what they did

Another day for the unlucky
To try and find a meal

While the wealthy and privileged
Fill their stomachs and hearts

With sickly-sweet tastes, scents,
And people they don't know how to love
 Feb 2018 Seema
L B
The Request
 Feb 2018 Seema
L B
Drinking wine by candle light
Small flame that might've
toasted music
Holding off instead
a flood of grief
Some wall I must retain
Some hope I still maintain
called life
...or was it love or...

one of those foolish things....

It's not important now
I am not known for caving-in
complaining
Not one for asking
nor for needing much
to hold my own...

I just need everything--

Boundless days of youth
forever slipping  
Only one dream yet remains

Wash over  
tender tide
The sea has found the breast
Seals it with its mouth
a hunger
lunging toward its home
of earth-warm woman
a deep surround

Longing there to cry
to take her back
to take it out on all
the taking

hurt of it
the bitter
and the knowing
loss of song

I can't recall

...The music that I cannot make
for lack of everything
 Feb 2018 Seema
Sally A Bayan
Worry
 Feb 2018 Seema
Sally A Bayan
(People Alone)


Maybe it's normal...maybe it's not,
maybe, i overdo it....yet, i still do it.
i always think of things to come
...at day time....even late nights,
thinking too much of my children
my children's children...my siblings
i even think of my siblings' brood
my dear friends and their worries
...thinking how i can help them.
....later, i get weary....fed up at times,
exhausted from worrying......wondering
how i could remedy even a bit....when
my hands are not that long to reach out.
...........................................
then, i think of people who live alone,
their thoughts...their predicaments.
there are those who enjoy and
progress in their solitude....then there
are those who are given no choice,
forced.......or suddenly found themselves
in that space....souls that cope with consequences,
alone at nights...while their frustrations
breathe on them...and stare back at them.

some end up too absorbed
in their own darkness.
........................................
those lovely night falls...those resplendent
moon-glowed nights, are joined...stained
by silent lamentations.....muffled cries,
yet...playing loud as thunder,
in the high open air...
.........................................
moments of hiding and seeking linger on,
they try to seek some fun,
yet, their ghosts, make them run,
whether in the dark, or under the bright sun.
weary eyelids become heavy, like those of a swan
sleep teases like evil...a bit of painful memory, and it's gone
...one's night is done...
..........................................
and, i realize
as i think along these lines,
my worries are just pebbles, not big stones
like theirs that whir,
over and over,
like a drone.
........................
whether with company, or on their own
they are people alone...


Sally

Copyright October 24, 2017
rrab
"People alone may go very fast
But maybe not so far
Playing alone is still solitaire
Remember people alone
May reach for a love but only half as well
People alone may seem satisfied
How can they tell"

(People Alone-----sang by Randy Crawford)
Magenta sunset skies,
Delicate fluttering butterflies,
Clouds drifting past the moon.

Crimson treetops,
Random raindrops, like teardrops,
A storm, that you can sense,
Coming soon.

Wild flowers scattered
Across fields of plush green grass.

Old wooden shutters
Banging on windows
With dust stained glass.

Wind chimes tinkling
With the wind
On an old rustic porch,

Squeeky, creaky, timber floors,
Making use of a candle,
Or a gasoline lantern,
Instead of a torch.

Swings swaying
From magestic tree branches,

Haunted castles and
Victorian mansions.

Pebbles crushing under my feet,
Leaves rustling--a sound so sweet.

Stepping stones,
In a tucked away,
Beautiful stream,

Just some of the splendors
In which I often dream.

~ And then there's you!

By Lady R.F. (C)2018
 Feb 2018 Seema
Tash Mckay
Flowers x
 Feb 2018 Seema
Tash Mckay
The sunflower
Is so big headed
Sweet and Pretty
And she knows it.
I love looking at flowers in the garden x the sunflower is always big beautiful and bold then she is gone x
 Feb 2018 Seema
Cné
Love is
 Feb 2018 Seema
Cné
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it  will pass away.*
~ **1 Corinthians 13:4-8
Happy Valentines Day! ❤️
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