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Linking the spotlight into the dark score
Rutting out the jagged envelopes that
Refuse to be opened, clinging onto their
Sticky tape with a passion;  Don't ask me for
Release, I'm shuttered up, swathes of emotive
Blankets worn out from their duty to keep me
Warm; to blot out the morning light from
Penetrating my skull.  Shame.....sorry self
Introduced to the firing line.  BANG....the snaked
Tongued 'Medusa' who entangles her mind
With vipers, serpents dishing out their forked
Shots of maggot infection, generating wormy
Warriors burrowing into the ruby red warmth
Chewing and bubbling neuron to neuron
Exploding at boiling point into a vast mix up
A collision on course, snapped in two, vibrating
With sheer panic, wrapped in destruction.......

Utter bilge.......built this bridge
So I'll knock it down..............
                                              ­    to start anew
And so I smile.......
How thy litheness dimmed by the light
but with gleams of c'rious insight
And shalt then thou start to sparkle
Grab victory, win the battle

Thou art just a little devil
Whose story gives people a shrill
But still thou never lose thy thrill;
abound with tricks, traps and bad will

How thou dwelt there within my heart!
Delights it and tears it apart!
Thou art the sky to my blunt night
Thou hold my fear and squeeze my fright

A little devil, just as thou art
Unloved by many holy hearts
But to me thou art not a fiend
At times thou art my only friend!

Thou liveth both my body and soul
Mocks the good deeds but praises the foul
When I am hurt thou start to grow
Give my en'mies a gravely show

How t'ose tears wrapped along thy eyes!
Blame the sick moon and moorish skies!
They've no love despite their promise
Our suffering's just what they shalt wish.

But I dear you, my little mate
Thou art my laugh and childlike path
Although unpraised just as we are
from each other we shan't be far.
I want you to know that I remember you.
I remember the girl who blushed bright at being called cute,
Who was told she was nothing but tried anyway.
I remember the girl who carved names into trees,
Who slashed down the names of people who left her,
I remember the girl who fought to remember.

I remember the girl who punched those trees.
The girl who tried to run and run and run,
Who scared the boys at school with her anger.
I remember the girl who could bleed and bleed,
Who would hide her face behind her hair,
I remember the girl who fought not to care.

I am the girl who carries her past inside her.
when this beach is stained ******,
lit only by stars at midnight,
no one will know in the morning
because the tide is coming in
and will wash it all away.
No, I'm not a psychopath. :P I went fishing with two of my brothers last night on a beach to try to catch a shark (they are out at night), and it was really scary because no one was there, and the boardwalk to get there was surrounded by dense forest/swamp stuff. I get scared easily and I have a fear that a psychopath is going to **** me (yeah...I'm weird) so this was what was going through my mind that a psychopath would be thinking if he/she saw us standing alone on the beach.
In those days all thinking took place in his heart.
It had no favorite suburb, no shelter that was home,
immersed, as he was, in the Mojave of humanity,
memories of only former places through which he'd drifted.

Yes, there were women, storms of passion, brevity in bed.
Today, they only took him back in time,
reconstructing scenarios more of actions never taken.
Bedposts served as bivouacs for the nomad.

Here in this desert water assumes a circumstance,
the nomad becoming as fond of it as ambition.
Here silence need not be kept at bay, rather welcomed in,
though it looks down upon him in uncertainty.

Out there on the horizon he hears a sigh,
a mother tongue corresponding to his own.
You told me that I would never be abandoned.

Tell that to the boy I left behind.

Because he never knew what friendship was until God appeared in the form of harsh words.

Now he doesn't know what to say.
Gypsy living. wandering, giving. love when you can, leave when you must, you can do the impossible if you trust.
 Jan 2013 Aditya Bhaskara
ᗺᗷ
It feels the days have been weeks, the weeks have been months, and the months have been years since we last met. And though we have left each other, the river of love flowing through my veins have never stopped running for you. I remember times when the sun rose to wake me it was you the first thing that caught my gaze as the hunter for his doe at the first of fall. The times when you were the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes to the melody of moon; I could not dream without you there. The times I would stroke your smooth curves and praise the One who created the beauty that is yours and yours alone. The times your scent made my pores throb and eyes wide, a scent we shared whenever you let me have you, a scent I longed when you were gone from me. The times my lips would touch you and tongue would taste you casting me without breath in throat and sweet air in lungs to the instance of choking; ironic as the world surrounding us the drowning while we the afloat. With you before me the world as we knew it vanished I could not begin to tell what century I was from. There is no need for time with love as eternal as this.

And yet I wait,

Wait for the day I will have you back in my presence, back in my hands, back to my lips, uplifting the very existence of my being. The day when I once again will be able to reach, reach far into the depths of my pocket and summoning the $4.31 it take to see you once more. . . my ever sweet breakfast burrito.
Breathing unconscious the air permeating
an oxygen right into lungs finely formed fed
waters so carelessly drunk quenching thirsts,
revitalizing with hydrogens exact innards all.

blood red coursing true from vital forces aplenty
Terra firm formed so right for me to walk straight
finely tilted earth enough for my days and nights
turning over for summers and my springs bright.

Now fine bodies and limbs,a heart pulsing sound,
minds capable bestowed by a time eternity bound
given lovely comrades, mothers, sisters, lovers and
brothers, friends, angels all for me destined especial.

the universe cosmic pandering to me, kind totally,
creating never a God,a cast,creed or a religion sole
but all and everything to survive as a man whole.
why then did I fragment,divide and multiply false?

and How! the mind shut first and then did heart too
geniuses both, discriminating unholy, inventing evils
dividing colors,crazed gods,cruel prophets,races divine
religions irrational unmeant for me but claiming us all
in a class uncaring obscene,a kid now just dead hungry!
what purpose is then of us,the grand senates and fiscals,
our temples,mosques and churches shining,vaults monied.

claiming then minds,hearts,honor, integrity and the self
stating grandly, survive you shall as you are the meek!
and so shall you be starved.*****,killed,burnt! Hell I am,
meek no longer! survive I shall as a king, a queen free!

I reclaim all now,taken from me in false names dastardly
show just my finger mid,for where I was led unwilling
the whole creed sole human,the religion only just humanity.
my will is what i make of my consciousness eternal revealed,
slowly peeling off layers and burdens yolked,reemerging now.
to freedoms anew today, and soon to that day of Armageddon.

*I just wanted to count and write a small poem on the numerous natural blessings of Universe and time,but then realized all these are taken for granted and turned to horrible human made curses...now this is neither a prosy poem nor poetic prose. a state of mind?..so here I am..with what ever it is..
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