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 Jan 27 Kalesh Kurup
To the Bees -
it's about time
you took a break;
I'm quite worried about your health.
You are so dedicated, working
all day
to visit the flowers and trees.

But Bees -
I hate to tell you -
I really do;
But one of you,
yes, just one,
makes so little honey.
In a lifetime.

So Bees -
why don't you take a break
from humming, flying,
serving others
and no benefit you yourself.
Take some me-time bee-time,
the flowers will live;
Don't worry,
someone else
will come...
So u scared me for a
With  those evil eyes
Looking into mine
But u won't devour
My blood
U want blood of a
Well ur out of. Luck
13 days I've cried
Over u
Now 13 days I die trying
Get over u
Extricate myself from him
And sink right into you.
Each layer that I disengage
Builds several ones anew.
I should twist and point myself
Towards the coming dawn
Away from shaded city streets
Away from all your wrong.
I sense a brimming something drifting
Past my searching gaze
Your drawing out the truth in me
Is soon to cause me pain
Past midnight...
apart from a nocturne playing
i hear a symphony of peaceful breathing
and snoring...rhythmical, this quiet evening,
it sends me soaring up my own universe,
with eyes closed, it grows more immense
creates some kind of a calm, in the silence
surrounding me, and my muse's presence.
stardust and moon provide me a crown
while i float...and probe around,
seeking something i don't know about,

in this journey,
i feel the absence of souls, slumbering deeply,
dreaming their simple, or strange fairy tales.
the firmament, wears a navy blue veil
stars are dots, they glow and scintillate,
like a warmth in the cold....emancipates
my invisible wings flap and fold,
a door **** hands take hold,
my destination...bright, resplendent,
"Cosmic Coffee Shop," a place, transcendent,
brewing a blend
-the dark, the positive
-the sweet, and the negative
a sign says, "write....there's pen and paper
in every corner..."
an invite, for people to create prose and poetry
where coffee is free, smells...tastes heavenly
a place to share...with brethren, in poetry.
(an old poem)
1:01 AM

☕️ Sally ☕️

Copyright November 21, 2016
on a sleepless night,
  ...a plane roars
     ...breaks the silence-
I have been imprisoned by you
Not of chains but linewy line of letters that appear four in your name
Your name contains flower that enchants my heart
They are thorns that pierces deeply in me
Causing claps of thunder to echo love in me
am i really in love with you or it is your name that I love?

Written by
Martin Ijir
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