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 Aug 2015 rebecca
Fish The Pig
so tell me
what do you think about love?
should it be something you struggle for work hard for
spend hours stressing and sweating
over how to make it work
letting it consume you
with fear
and anxiety,

or should it be effortless?
should it be comfort
and easy
should it excite you to the bone
and fill you with carefree procrastination
and a long
drawn out
well deserved sigh?
two peas in a pod, or opposing magnets?
...
..
Much before the door closed
Can be seen regularly when walking on the road
Though dark, see the mass of trash
But did not hear any noise ever

On the side of the sky touch wall
My constant movement
Though shadow yet trademark cynicism
I can go away even closed eyes

Closed eyes within the dark
Yet unbelievable, but brings a dream
A dream within the dark,
See a diamond crystal
Where only light and light dispersion
From each dimension

Suddenly, in dream
I am in front of the closed door,
See a footprint,
Known voice with tune,
Can hear the illusive song

Now neither there exists any tall wall
Nor any closed door in the mind
...
..
 Aug 2015 rebecca
Oxytocin
Swollen eyes
Tear stained cheeks
A dusty mirror
And a beating heart
Pinching my thighs and muffin top
Fat
Ugly
Unlovable
These words haunting me

Wishing
Wishing to unzip this skin
And emerge as thin
Beautiful
Lovable

My head feels dizzy
Hearts starts to race
Warm tears streaming down my face
Smash
The mirror is in pieces
Hands are bleeding
Heart still beating
A reflection
That cannot be fixed
This is how I feel almost all the time
 Aug 2015 rebecca
Seán Mac Falls
( Sonnet )*

At the end of night she bathes in light,
We tussle in the warmth of morning,
The blankets and she are of sea foam
And found shells, whispering lost ocean
Words.  Our bed is a raft, drifting aloft,
The coffee is brewing with mellow sun,
Her smiles, filling my silly, giddy mug.
Soon, we walk to the pebbled beach,
Her hair is waving at the friendly seas,
Gulls are circling in the moving skies
Reeling with the slow, slipping tides
And I skip stones with her as our feet
Sink in the milk of morning sands—
Must we be off to Dublin town?
 Aug 2015 rebecca
SelfOfTheDivine
Let your voice counsel my hand
To think, to utter and write down.
You, who is the tear in my eye
As, in dread-beauty, I drown.

You, who is the end of the line
From which all my virtues spawn.
You, who is my promised land,
Please guide me now, as I strive on.

Please give me the strength to find you one day,
That I'll be worthy of gazing at your face,
That we may joyously meet and embrace.

Engulf me in your fire! Cleanse me of my sins!
That whatever's left, be poised to win
Against the Tyrant that one day you will slay.
Written on the 6th of August, 1E 2015.

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