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At the watering hole
the wildabeasts
are gossiping the news
it's somebody's
BIRTHDAY
and he may have the
Blues!

so they all told the
zebras
who in turn told
giraffes
they all told the
elephants
they even told their
calves

pretty soon the whole
Savannah
knew that they must sing!
all the lions and the
bears and every bird
on wing!

so they sent up a chorus
all the grasslands
RANG!
even though it was
raucous
this is what they
sang...

HIPPO, BIRDIE, two EWES!
HIPPO, BIRDIE, two EWES!

HIPPO... BIRDIE
DEAR FRIEND,

HIPPO, BIRDIE, two EWES!

and many BOOOARS...
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!
a funny game i wanted to play with me

writing poem within mouth holding
a seed of blackberry.

the fruit was fleshy sweet
till tongue exposed its bone
staled, made it insipid,
as if, was never grown.

spit it out i could not do
that seed utterly dry
for i had given word to you
a poem to write must try.

as i thought up cutish rhyme
that must pleasure fetch
****** grew the seed with time
my mouth was messy wretch.

my tongue was thick of blue
too intense was my plight
but i had given word to you
must hold till end of write.

it's over now this awkward game
what a relief to throw it out
and never again shall i write a poem
with a blackberry seed in mouth.
Warning: never try :)
 Jul 2015 Bharti Singh
Ocean Blue
Once, you wrote,
And if I may quote
('Cause after five minutes,
There was nothing left, only peanuts),
That you and me play a game,
That has a universal name,
Love.
No, D. for Darling,
Love
Is way too serious
To be called a game.
'Cause throughout the day,
You are my only aim.
Trust me, this is not funny:
This feeling, or is it a pain,
Is my everyday reality.
 Jul 2015 Bharti Singh
betterdays
stones, sticks,
and the lick of a whip
were her daily penance

imagined, wrongs
but the pain and scars
real and never healing

the door was always
left unlocked, freedom
just steps away

but courage,
is a hard needle
to find in a haystack
made of barbed-wire

courage is a hard needle
to find,
and to pass through it's eye
is to walk through fire

is today  the day...
that fear succumbs
to desire?

is today, the day
when the scent of jubilation
overcomes the ground-in,
ground down sense of hesitation?

for those who watch
and not so secretly know
for those who wait
with baited breath
for blood to flow
for those whose hands are tied

they,can only hope so...
i write this for those, who know of some one trapped in domestic violence....those who help women see a pathway out of the closed cycle...but know that the decision to walk away has to be that of the abused....and watch and wait with hope of freedom....and a fresh start....but sometimes see the fate of those who are unable to flee
this piece is written from experience as amember of a domestic violence support group....whilst i myself have not been in this situation...i have seen many who have...
and it saddens me...
that the incidence of fatal domestic violence
continues to rise
"I love you"
"Don't fight this"

"I hate you"
"You're worthless"

"Save me"
"You're everything"

"Leave me"
"I'm nothing"*

What people seem to miss
Is that life would be simplest
If thoughts were kept inside the head
Because everything is better left unsaid
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