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Gone are the days when teachers
Came to school on cycles
Now every teacher owns a motor cycle
No teacher wants to ride a cycle
I am one of the few teachers
Who now and then use cycles

Riding a cycle is considered mean
Even my daughters regard it as mere fun
The cycle runs on human power
The motor cycle on electrical power
If it runs out of petrol
Somebody comes to console
If it develops a technical problem
It keeps mum like a tar drum
Human power is more reliable
Electrical power is always unpredictable

Bicycle is very easy to ride
It is a poor man’s pride
Riding a cycle is good for our health
It even saves some of our wealth
It saves environmental pollution
And releases our mental tension
I threw out
The flowers you gave me
Not because
They were fake
But because
We were

By Chloe Elizabeth
Now, I wish I would have kept them.
Have you ever
Truly, contemplated
The Void?
Have you?
Really?
Ever?

It's blackness
surrounds us
In all directions
Wrapped in its
Utter empty
Dark embrace

And we spiral down
within it
Like a lost soul
In a deep
Gravity well.

Around a yellow
Many-blessed star
Which itself
Circles the
Frigid centre
Of a Galaxy
A wide, Milky way
Saggittarian armed

Which itself
Is moving
Circling away
from a point
with its
Peers contained in
The Virgo cluster

Away, and away.
One day to unite
Violently
With Andromenda
2 million years
Of light away

Herself
In a collision
So vast,
the heavens will
Tremble
And worlds
Will spin
Off their axis'

And yet, this
Is as nothing
When compared
To the void.
The nothingness
The totality
Alpha - Omega
It watches us
Mutely
Waiting
Our turn
To return

It watches all its
Galactic children
As they
Run away
Gravity wise
Forever, eternally
From the point
At which they
Formed/born

Heat, energy
Perfect symmetry
Broken and
Shattered
Resulting
In the Void

That point
Is where the Void began
It's career of
Darkness and
Silence
Its airless cold presence
Embraces all

And ever since
Its......................
Nothingness has been
Increasing
Relentless
Light year upon
Light year

Yes, it is truth
Nothingness
Is the true nature
Of this Universe
God's creation
That we think
So mundane

The one we feel
Is packed with life,
Woods, hills, tree
Small towns
Pieces of paper

But we live in a special place
Places that are something
Are the exception
Not the rule
Which is no thing
We are so rare,
like a single teardrop
In a pacific ocean of
Nothing

Beyond here
Up there
Down there
Across there
It seems filled to
Brim with stars
Twinkle with promise
But be warned

All the stars and
Galaxies (red and blue)
Would not fill
A millionth of a
Percentile
Of the universal void.
It swallows them
All, entirely

Gently staring at us
Forever
From its dark
Black eye

Think on that
And then
Think again
And again
You cannot
Contain it
No thing
Can

The stars
And all the planets
Nebuli and holes
black and dark
Are as nothing
Human beings
Thought
Ephemeral
Taken whole

Compared to the real
Stuff of Universe
Which is void.

Think upon it
As much as you can
On a cloudness night
Stare into the sky
And realize
You are truly
looking into
Eternity

A void so utterly empty
That all things
that are, or will be
Mean no thing
To it, its deep
black heart
And complete
Perfect
emptiness

If you do not
Swoon with fear
And tremble
With excitement
At the reality of
This fact
Of your
true existence

And of
Your private
privililge
To glimpse
At this no thing

From a tiny
blue/white
rock-made ball
Of a home
Trapped in nothing
Then you have not
Truly
Contemplated
The reality of
The Void.........
Written on a dark night staring toward Orion, in a draft form
 Apr 2014 Alireza Zibaie
Jack
~

Beneath this dark…soft, silent sky (awaiting your smile)

  
Beneath this dark…soft silent sky
where starlight teardrops weep
in moon glow feathered sonnets…
my heart seeks
~
Clinging to every hope,
laced of tiny woven dreams
now filtered through weary eyes
and worried sighs
~
Collecting each moment shared
within my weathered hands…mixed
with essence of posy and
butterfly song
~
Woven together in melodic patterns,
colorful arcs on golden horizons
bidding me a good evening while
riding in on the sweetest of mystic zephyrs…
~
as another tear paints my cheek
in transparent worry
and desperate longing for that day
when your smile reappears
~
For here sits my whispered wishes,
behind tufted clouds of life,
touching me with poetic joy,
allowing me to breathe freely
~
Beneath this dark…soft silent sky
where starlight teardrops weep
in moon glow feathered sonnets…
I shall wait…for your smile
 Apr 2014 Alireza Zibaie
Allison
Can you give someone your whole body but still be afraid for them to touch you? If loving someone through thick and thin was true then why is that such a big deal? I'm sick and your helping. Your sick and I'm helping. I remember when the sun wasn't so bright when I looked at it. I haven't wrote in a while. Does that mean I'm happy? I only write when I'm unhappy. I'm sorry. Sometimes I'm not happy. What is happiness? Is happiness being with you? Is happiness when I see something or hear something I love? Is happiness just waking up in the morning alive and well? I think happiness is kinda crap. But I would say I'm content. I'm different then 2 years ago and I know that. I'm not better. Not worst. But different. Being happy is what I believe only children can be. Nobody's really happy. But content. Content with life. I'm not so scared anymore about being alone. It's not a fear I have anymore. Was it ever? I never was really alone other then lonely. But aren't we all lonely? Maybe. I don't mind being alone but Id rather be with you. Being with you is better then a lot of things. I don't think I ever wanted to touch someone as much as I love touching you. It's been 4 months since I've touch a blade and your really the only thing to thank for that. I think that's weird that your the only reason I won't touch one. Sure I would love to and honestly some nights I feel like I could and don't know why. Maybe I miss it. But I won't cause you would hate me. And I love you far to much. That's the past and I'm trying to keep it there. I'm trying to keep a lot of things in the past. The past is such a tricky thing. It can creep up on you and make you think of the stupidest smallest things. But they can hurt like hell. I try not to miss things from my past cause I can't go Back. So what's the point of missing things you can't have? And maybe I don't want them back cause they made me the person I am today and I don't like myself. I wish I was different though. Happier, pretty all that good stuff every 19 year old girl wants. I kinda hate getting told I'm pretty. And I kinda hate the fact that I still feel the need to be sad. I guess you can't change everything about yourself. I haven't cried in such a long time. I think it's okay to cry once and a while. Crying always helped. But I can't seem to cry and I'm okay with that. Crying is a sign that your body tried and can't be as strong as it think it is. And that's okay. You can't be strong everyday. Breaking down and crying is fine. I haven't been awake this late in such a long time. It's cause I have you holding me every night now. I really don't think a lot anymore at night and I'm okay with that. Night thoughts are the worst. Your far away from me tonight. But your right next to me. I can see the moon from my window and I love that. But lately I'd rather look at you.
Your worth cannot be measured
by the circumference of your waist
or the width of your delicate hips

And though his lips will plant onto yours
and others may call you revolting
it shall never measure your worth

And when it comes to valentines day
and the only roses you received
were the ones your mother sent you
It cannot measure your worth

Because your worth cannot be measured
you shall repeat it again
your worth will not be measured
by numerals,words, or objects
not ever
your worth cannot be measured
but you are enough, unbelievably enough
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