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 Apr 2015 Breonna Noel
Mirabai
Nothing is really mine except Krishna.
O my parents, I have searched the world
And found nothing worthy of love.
Hence I am a stranger amidst my kinfolk
And an exile from their company,
Since I seek the companionship of holy men;
There alone do I feel happy,
In the world I only weep.
I planted the creeper of love
And silently watered it with my tears;
Now it has grown and overspread my dwelling.
You offered me a cup of poison
Which I drank with joy.
Mira is absorbed in contemplation of Krishna,
She is with God and all is well!




O my King, my father, nothing delights me more
Than singing the praises of Krishna.
If thou art wrath,
then keep thy kingdom and thy palace,
For if God is angry, where can I dwell?
Thou didst send me a cup of poison and a black cobra,
Yet in all I saw only Krishna!
Mira is drunk with love, and is wedded to the Lord!




The heart of Mira is entangled
In the beauty of the feet of her Guru;
Nothing else causes her delight!
He enabled her to be happy in the drama of the world;
The Knowledge he gave her dried up
The ocean of being and becoming.
Mira says: My whole world is Shri Krishna;
Now that my gaze is turned inward, I see it clearly
 Apr 2015 Breonna Noel
Sky
Fallen
 Apr 2015 Breonna Noel
Sky
And so we watch everything fall
Explode around us in the air
Bone splinters and shards of glass
The remains of what never truly was

And so we learn to lose it all
The fire glinting off your hair
The spirits watching as we pass
Yearning for the life within us

And so we wish we could stand tall
Seek freedom from the darkest lair
And slay any who dare trespass
To survive we do what we must

And so we watch everything fall
Explode into our hearts and steal our air
Bone white and blood streaks and shards of glass
The remains of what everything was
 Apr 2015 Breonna Noel
Rose
Who'd of figured*
Oh, me, me, me!
I offer with my hand raised
I wake from a muddy haze
And clarity returns to me
I wore a lovely veil for days
Stared ahead, rose color my gaze
All glories fade

I miss it when the lights
Well the lights, they would come on
And I was thankful
just to breathe the beauty in
Now it's like I expect this
burning bulb to do something for me
But there's nothing to be done

There's nothing to be done for me
Longing for you I realize
It's time to put out the light
 Apr 2015 Breonna Noel
LJ Chaplin
The lights go out as another day
Draws to a close,
In the distance sirens of an ambulance
Ripples through the stillness
Of the night,
I ache,
I'm tired,
But I'm restless.
The staircase extends beyond my feet,
Up into a blank space
Where light cannot reach
And darkness can wait
For me to enter.
I can feel its eyes on me,
Fixated on my body
As I approach the first step.
I don't know why,
But the lingering presence
Is always there,
As if it waits with arms crossed
And draped against my bedroom door,
It sense my fear and I sense its intent:
To creep into my mind,
To feed off the chaos that stirs
Each and every day.
© LJ Chaplin
 Apr 2015 Breonna Noel
LJ Chaplin
Show me your flaws and I'll show you mine,
The moment is raw and I won't decline,
The chance to be open,
The chance to be kind,
A finger to my lips
To hush words I can't find,
Scars don't determine
Your final appearance,
Nor is perfection
Your final endearment.

I have wounds of my own
But alas you can't see,
Echoes of war that
Ripple through me,
Deep beneath skin
And deep beneath veins,
Tucked away safely
In the confines of a brain,
Kept in a box wrapped in a ribbon,
Collecting dust and carefully hidden,
Away from hands that try to pry,
Scratching at surfaces try after try,
Scrounching for scraps and forever hoping,
That pandora's box will finally be opened
© LJ Chaplin
I want to be beached
With you
Days on end
Nothing to do
Not caring about melanoma or wrinkles
Lost is the idea that this is all there is
Frozen without further body deterioration
Dressed for dinner
Undressed by desert
It’s all over to soon
Your dead forever
What is there besides *** and shopping?
 Apr 2015 Breonna Noel
Solaces
Down stormy road..
Let me begin to imagine the sunny day with you..
Its strange..
I can't seem picture the sunny day in such a storm..
Its as if I have forgotten what it was like..
But I do see us walking in the rain..
Its cold at first but we soon get use to it..
The rain stops and the lightning dances across the sky from cloud to cloud..
I remember us leaving and never arriving..
Without destination..
The leaving storms in the distance leave such a blue for my eyes..
I call it Storm on the horizon blue..
That is where I see us..
Running with the lightning in the sky..
You are my storm..
I have absolutely no reason to like you. Except everything you do fascinates me.*
Like how whenever you make fun of me or call me a stupid name, you smile at me.
******* it’s so cute how you call me a name and then look away and look back at me and smile, because you know I can’t stay mad.
Even though you completely destroy my self confidence, I just can’t seem to get enough of it.
I don’t mean to take a really long time to text you back, but you make me nervous.
So if you wonder why it takes me 20 minutes to reply, it’s because I don’t want to say the wrong thing to you.
I get nervous to spend time alone with you because you make me so nervous, so nervous that I typed nervous four times in this one sentence.
How it drives me crazy when you don’t text me back, because all I want to do is talk to you.
How you don’t care what you look like, how you don’t try at all, but you still look so good to me.
How every time you compliment me my stomach drops.
Even though its only a drill, because we made a deal that if you’re mean to me that you have to say something nice.
We’re nothing more than friends, but when I’m with you there’s no place I’d rather be.
And I hate how I don’t know how you feel about me, and I can’t help myself but keep chasing you.
*I have absolutely no reason to like you. Except everything you do fascinates me.
Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly
in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying
flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .
How did it go?
How did it go?
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