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 Feb 2015 Autumn Whipple
ryn
He almost let out a sigh of dismay,
Knowing this stint would be short lived.
The common sense in his head seemed to say,
"No one could be this lucky, don't have yourself deceived".

His wheels wobbled and shook; squeaked and wailed,
Under the collective weight of the two.
Screaming threats from worn bearings that ailed,
He did not want to appear weak so his legs pummelled on through.

The ease of cycling was only temporary
He pedalled harder to gain more speed.
Then the ground began to ***** gently
His lungs felt like bursting as he pounded his iron steed.

The journey uphill had been more laborious than he had expected.
All the while, the beauty hadn't uttered a single word.
His mind had drifted off even though he was worn and ragged,
The thought of emerging as a couple seemed less than absurd.

The crest of the hill was a cool, long anticipated welcome.
He could finally ease up on the pedalling.
The view from there was nothing short of handsome,
The downhill would take charge and he could catch up on his breathing.

The wind met his face and whistled itself tuneless.
The bicycle rattled as it rolled down the uneven trail.
He felt a sense of flight, there was an air of calmness,
Almost had forgotten about the quiet guest on his tail.

At the bottom he thought he should check on his passenger,
He looked ahead as he addressed the lady.
When he had expected an almost immediate answer,
No response came, despite his calls for her repeatedly.

He pedalled with little effort as if there wasn't added weight
The bicycle slowed down to a clearing where it was dim.
Fatigue was setting in as the night stretched late
His curiosity won the battle and got the better of him.

He stopped his bicycle and maintained balance with his feet,
He twisted his torso so he could speak to his fare.
The moment he did so, his heart had almost ceased to beat,
To his horror, he found that the lady was no longer there...
Based on a story I heard
Wish we could cement moments in honey,
And have them shine like amber
In the sunlight of our memories.
Why such a twain will unite as one?
When the words that describe haven't yet to come
Why does a bird will flap its wings?
When it cannot grow neither feather nor string?

A twain is a pair both had chosen
What love can i give when in fact i was forsaken?
Birds only fly with wings on
Stars only shine on the absence of the moon..                                        

Hence i was confounded by such fickle mind
Heed from my eyes to teach me not to be blind
A love that is unspoken is like a page without a word..
How can you bind each heart without a cord?
 Jan 2015 Autumn Whipple
pam
“I would never be like those girls, they’re crazy.”  
Thats what I told myself when I saw every girl fan girling over some boyband.
I always wonder why they have to cry even though their idols just tweeted a picture or releases a new song; music video.
I always wonder why they have to waste their time to vote.
It annoys me when they try their best to get their idols attention by spamming them.
Fangirls get to my nerves, but I stayed quiet.
I hated it.
I hated them because they’re dedicating their life to someone who doesn’t even know they exist.
I mean I like some bands, but I never ever did those stuff.
"I would never ever.”
I told myself.
But one day, I woke up…

"Hi, we’re 5 Seconds Of Summer."
Then everything started to change.

  —
*And then and there
I knew… Im such an hypocrite.
dont judge my music taste because I wont care.
I walk alone                                                                                                              All in my imaginative realms                                                                                 Like an adventurer who looks for                                                                           The impossible in the possible ...                                                                             I walk alone                                                                                                              All in my dreams ,but                                                                                              I find only horrible nightmares ...                                                                           I walk bare-footed                                                                                                    All in my impossible kingdoms ,but                                                                       I find only uneven ways in front of me ...                                                          I walk alone                                                                                                          All under those heavy rains ,but                                                                         I lose my pretty umbrella over there ...                                                              I walk alone                                                                                                          All in that gloomy darkness,but                                                                         I find only scary shadows near me ...                                                                 I walk alone                                                                                                          In the realms of my words ,but                                                                           I find only emptiness over there ...                                                                       _____________________
Snowflakes.
Snowflakes that are each unique
Yet thousands upon thousands
Each it's own
Lie unfound
In a snowbank called Earth.
Just waiting to be admired
But in the end expire
As all life eventually does.
Write about your friends and use #ourfriends
Stuck to an icy
   history of thought,
   the habitual web caught
the Fly in its enticing
   display of verbs
      that match the pattern:
      language is the matter,
   betraying ourselves with words.
   A tongue to its Work tied
      might make the spider
      think twice before biting;
   those venomous lies
we tell our Selves about
   helplessness and somedays
   victimization and blame,
empowering our self-doubt;

                    ∴

Devouring our might as writers,
    we have nothing if not pride;
      We take flight to the deepest parts
        of the universe of literature.
Neither nihilistic nor cynical,
    our linguistic is made of visuals.
      Verily we write with studious care,
        veracity a common trait we share:
We are an orchestra,
    a symphony of synchronised melody.
      Epiphanies emphasize tragedies
        that consume us repeatedly --
We seek to
    link our verses
      and feel deep connections
        when engulfed by depression
Verse 1 - M.P.D.
Verse 2 - Jamie King
A beautiful flower of peace shone bright
Along with the morning  sun rise full of light
But a naughty bee came to sting the flower
As jealousy crept in its eyes
couldn't withstand the sight of glowing flower
And a heavy wind blew away all the petals of peace.

Next morning again sun rose to its peak
Spreading the rays of warmth and delight
The flower of Peace once again woke up
On seeing the rays of powerful light.

How can a flower of peace die,
When every sun rays cheers it from all the sides.
Flower of peace is the reflecting diamond,
It will pass on the reflection of light everywhere,
which it receives from the sun.

Flower of peace cannot wither away,
As there is always someone to water and nurture it well.
Please keep on passing this flower of peace one to one
Keep on passing as long as humanity sustains.
Let it spread the message of peace and love.

Let not the Flower Of Peace wither away!

Geetha Jayakumar

©ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY GEETHA JAYAKUMAR 2014
© 2014 Geetha Jayakumar
Peace
Have you ever held your breath,
Just to know what drowning feels like?
They told me that you can't
reach out and touch death,
but death has ghosted his hands
across my fragile skin.
Life is a delicate thing
and it can so easily be lost.
His cold hands on my cheek,
his frosty breath down my neck,
Death is watching.
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