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 May 2014 binky
Zainab Attari
Without a Valentine
All alone I dine
So peaceful, so serene
But not too far, I hear a scream!

One guy stood her on their blind date!
Second came for dinner too late
Third one was way too afraid
Another slapped for his haste to get laid

Everything so crimson, hurts my eyes
My usual brown pie is red too, Sigh!
Pitiful eyes look my way
I can’t digest the hype of this day!

There another drunkard sings ridiculously,
Miss Curvy dances seductively,
The ugly blonde rejects “The Ring” snobbishly
While the old lady argues adorably!

Oh, sweet Valentine’s
Have you all lost your minds?
You've wasted months, days and hours
To sweeten this day which only turns sour!

Trying too hard to be someone else
Won’t ring any happy bells!
A few gestures of love can make it special too
So make it memorable for them and you!

-Zainab Attari
I had posted this poem on my blog on 14th February 2014. Really wanted to share it here. Didn't have the patience until the next Valentine's Day!
I am not anti valentine but just wanted to illustrate this perspective :)
Share with me your valentine days incidents!
Was so fragile-
She could be cut by callused palms.
Could be bruised-
With the stroke of her makeup brush.
Lays so sound-
She could wake up to the car door slamming in the garage.

She is so thin-
Light shines not just through her eyes-
But through her chest, hips, lips, and-
No warmth is transferred through her kiss.

She breaks like hardened mud.
You could sink into her like quicksand.
Her body, is built like a storm.

You can watch the blood in her veins-
Meet your fingers at the surface-
You can still see what you have drawn in the morning-
If you can even crawl out of bed to crack the blinds.

She likes thunderstorms.
She likes the smell of dirt.
Her eyes were gray-
And her tongue is stuck to the roof of her mouth.

She can dance in the sun-
clumsily-
And still be the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

She could sing-
Off key-
But her emotion is what makes those notes gold.

She lays like stone.
She moves like running glass fast forwarded.
Her voice is thunder-
And her eyes are the winter.

She lays hands on you-
Only to heal.
She can mend you-
as easy as bending a wire coat hanger.

Her skeleton is like flint-
How it sparks against mine.
Her body is so fragile-
A word could hurt her.
and a stick or stone-
would certainly **** her.
 May 2014 binky
Peter Cullen
If you could have one answer,
to any question in the world.
Would you ask about the past?
or what needs, to be learned?
Would you think in wonder,
bout those reasons never found.
Sometimes wonder is the reason
you can't seem to come around.
All thats gonna greet us,
the good the lost and all thats bad.
Those stories that are left untold,
are always gonna drive you mad.
But get back to that question,
what is it that you'd ask?
Would that sacred answer,
relinquish you from what you thought?

— The End —