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 Jul 2015
Chris
~

Sometimes I don’t say it
as eloquently as I should

Words run from me
disappearing over mountain tops

In the last phrases of my day
when moon light seeps in

Through opaque glass
and curtains of lace promises

I clutch tightly my pillow
wishing it were you

Hoping that tonight’s dream
will give me a hint

Like some painted message
on marshmallow clouds

Drawing lingering lines
in star to star whispers

Chasing firefly flickerings
with a mayonnaise jar

Trying to capture your heart
in a twilight whimsy

Within the verses of a poem
written on a breeze

Floating across
midnight skies of woven stanzas

Eloquently or not…
*of my love for you
Good night beautiful
 Jul 2015
Sourodeep
The moon is now bright and full
showering silver romance,
to the leaves of tree so dull.

A cricket humming his chants
deep in meditation behind
the dark unknown shrub's branch.

Somewhere in a nest, a hatchling can't sleep
letting out feeble hunger cries
her mother did not fetch enough to feed.

While on my walk, I see those eyes
hiding behind a trunk, peeping
I assure it safety, I know may be lying

Night is the time for them to be,
struggling to enjoy independence and security
this unending night leading them to the unknown
what will remain I wonder at the crack of dawn.
What future can we give to these plants and animals, we have already invaded every inch of land and air.
 Jul 2015
Ignatius Hosiana
We spent trillions of time searching for love
And forgot It's a product of patience and peace
We wasted years contemplating what we'd have
Whether awaiting us was sorrow or bliss

Atrophied centuries trying to overcome fear
Rather than welcome it and with it learn to live
We followed from behind so that they wouldn't see a tear
And we would have no long explanation or fake smiles to give

We used the lonely routes for none could be trusted
But walked armed incase anybody showed up
We waited for our trumpets to be blown till they rusted
Like the entire universe and Galaxy was having a nap

Until we actualized that pain and risk is the essence of living
None of our wrinkles were from smiles but grieving
I stand by the period bed
where Dupleix rested his head,
wondering at his kind of life,

if he lay there with wife
or some native maid.

doesn't hint his bronze bust
if he lay there bare
in ebullient lust

stirred by a girl darkly thin
bowing himself to her embrace
finding in his war beaten mind, happiness,

or, there wasn't any such thing,
he lay there staring at the ceiling
far from even one warm kiss
storming his brain to defeat the British...

I think of the kitten that survived a few days,
it still pains.

In the museum, I rhyme dust with lust.
 Jul 2015
Ambient Destruction
Rain that falls as dust
Rain that feels like ashes
Wasted on skin that might as well be dead
Not feeling it
Not the life of the party
My life a crime scene
That nobody bothered to report
Knuckles glossy red
Unplugged like spilled lemonade
Face-planted on papier-mâché curbs
And I didn't even get to keep the balloons
No more wicked games
This was my ship
To wreck
Just raise it from the bottomless pit
They say
Live like an adult
But I'd rather
Die like a child
Rain isn't stopping today.
And I'd like to jump in the puddles, but I'm not supposed to do that.
I'm an "Adult".

Childhood series #8
Her wails rent the air

O God how unfair you are
to have snatched him from me
the only man that truly cared
never treated me badly.

Without him is a life to grieve
empty meaningless
take me too O God relieve
this pain of no redress!


Shouldn't we bring a costly cot
of mahogany or such wood
asked the men what was her thought
about carrying her man so good.

Shouldn't the pyre be of sandalwood
the fuel a pure ghee
your husband ma'am was a man too good
to be burned ordinarily.

She paused a while frowning dark
a shadow passed her face
a hint of wince made its mark
a pall of uneasiness.

He's gone to never return
the onus is now on me
to run the days with meager earn
and not spend wastefully.

ordinary wood would burn as good
kerosene would do well
prudence demands not one should
be lavish in funeral.
 Jul 2015
Ian Beckett
Living
On the edge
Of adrenaline
With caffeine
No sleep.

Torture team
Manage manager
Calm customers
Shoot supplier
No sleep.

Fixes fail
Skype saviour
Possible plan
Fanatic focus
No sleep.

Forget food
More madness
Temper tantrum
Solution soon
No sleep

Rock & roll
Back broken
Problem past
Adrenaline addict
No sleep

Go to bed – write this poem.
 Jul 2015
nivek
Dolly Parton wails out the radio of a car stopped in the street
out of sight it revs away
taking the singing Dolly with it
and I realise its the first human voice I heard all day
 Jul 2015
A Lopez
I'm pretty sure the timing is right
To tell you how I feel.

I think it's time to reveal to you
The secret that keeps my lips sealed.

I want to tell you
But I don't know how.

A good idea is what I wish
My mind would allow.

I guess I could try to put together a plan
That, in the end, would probably just sink.

But instead, tonight, I'm gonna find the courage
To just tell you what I think.
Don't have noone to write for but can have hoping
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