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  Sep 2015 Amey Rajeshirke
Gigi Tiji
foul bug
grab it and tug

you're a flyin' tooth
hockin' loogies

Disregard that! I'm a loonie!

Meow-cat, can't take it and
snap! goes my brain like
crack! goes the coffee mug
falling from the counter and
swoosh! goes the butterfly
flapping it's wings...
screech!

see
the
blossoming magnolias...

and we're all bubbling up
from the inside out!

we're left downright sideways!
looking for the sun to come out...

silver lining -
fluffy cloud,
blue sky fall,
hop skip and
jump! to high heaven:

falling... backwards,
in a grand attempt to
leap! into a pool of faith
from the highest cliff...

and when the tables are turned...
you are scratches in the vinyl!
skip, skip, skip to my
loop -loop -looping thought patterns...

Meow meow
meow
Dressed-up words
misguide our naked thoughts
far more than naked thoughts
influence the use of dressed-up words.

Words can be a narcissistic cover-up
or
masks expressing secondary emotions,
even if the wordsmith
is begging to be
needed.

If one desires to communicate
with a purer intent,
to cut through language's sinew
of misinterpretation,
and into truth's marrow,

such communication can happen
within wordless silence
where blooms
touch
waves
salt
sweat
true north,

pantings
in the cold;
the swelling heat
of iron ignition.

When my tongue dissolves the words,
laps up innuendos
and syntax errors of reality
from in-between
the honeyed surface
of language,
over-stimulation
spins me deliriously.

If
this
needs a pause,
a breath to breathe,
to feel the distance,

our wavelengths
will never cease
to communicate.



September 12th, 2015
over the past weeks
a gentle autumn sun
has painted colored leaves
upon the ground
and thinned
the bright abundance
of the wooded ranges

most of the harvest
is securely stored by now
or sold at morning markets
by weathered men and women
in country garbs

vintners are busy with their lots
fermenting grapes
and entertaining those
who see their visit
as pleasant pastime and escape
from daily urban chores

hunters and lumbermen
are waking up
to shoot and mark

schools by this time
have settled into the new year
teachers are happy still to share
the knowledge of our world
with students still inclined
to listen

businessmen
remembering their vacations
on the Bahamas or in Saint Tropez
step sprightly into offices
womanned by secretaries dreaming secretly
of beautiful Mallorca summers
and of those never-ending nights
on the Algarve

I guess it is a human thing
to find a new beginning
and do best
when nature’s breath goes easy
to collect the strength
for yet another fruitful year

or were it better
that we also took a rest?

           * *
I ain’t like those any other story
That you put on a shelf
And read whenever you please
I’m not the kind of story
That collects dust
And wait for someone to pick me up

I always try to find my way
In every way possible
In every human I meet
In every heart, bones
In every ink my pen produce
In everything I see

I am that kind of story

That kind you can’t leave in the best part
That kind you will cry with the worst part
That kind you can’t forget even if you tried
That kind of story you will be wondering why

I am that kind of story

I’m a best seller
A limited edition print
A classic
A nonfiction
A real romance


I have battled dragons
Pirates and Evil queens
Uses magic to conquer them
By all means

I am that kind of story

My intro is soft and sweet
Altered chapter
Read between the lines
I promise I’ll patch the conflict
And build suspense
For now enjoy my ******
Cause I’m still rewriting the ending

I am that kind of story

But you still put me on a shelf
Just to purely fill space in your library

Someone else has come around
And never put me down
He have seen the value I see in me
He go beyond the cover
See me as more than pretty words & poetry

And come back & find I’m gone
Not a trace of my ink, my page or my words
And you’ll realize
I was best story you’ve ever been apart of

because I am that kind of story.
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