When you left me, you took my life away
and made me a laughing stock on display.
When I left you, I started breathing again;
healed of every wound, relieved of all the pain!

~~
I'm going but coming to you again
when the train of love begins to start
then I found myself in love and live
such a bond that bound you to stand beneath the tree

I'm coming but going to you again
when my soul never found any goal
looking for a heart that flies like a bird
as a little bit of anguish which distinguished me without you

If I had not taken birth in this earth, I could not love
as long as I expect you that grew in me
an old empty silent tree even that never been free
from hot dust that always made a long thirst
even alone but still belongs
in the heart of mine

my darling! you know this is nostril
where I'm drilling,  
going but coming back to home again
to tell unspoken words which above all the intolerance of
in the desert burning grains

~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen

Knowing that you read my words,
My own words....
Consider my thoughts
Within time's moving context,
That you catch a glimpse of me,
From time to time,
Within the context of time.

The thought that you
Know me in some ways
Weighs heavy on me now.

Have you read enough to see me
Laughing or troubled,
Calm or aflame?

Have you glimpsed the coattails
Of Sunday, running
On ahead?

Have you seen me following
Hard after?

Can you see that I run on,
Convinced that
Though today is Friday,
Sunday must be coming?

An old mans regatta,  ancient ships bound for the park , reflect on wartime America in 1944 ! Cheerful for the most part , lips quivering occasionally ! Patriotic . Reflective . Your the same young man regardless of rebellious ways , I was the captain of my ship as well in 1938 ! Four years later , fighting for my life on Guadalcanal in a bayonet charge against a bold , determined enemy force ! The internet and the current culture , the world appears smaller , actually divided from within courtesy of religious faction , fascism and greed , now more than ever ! You may find yourself in my shoes in sixty odd years , convincing young people such as yourself of the fine line between war and peace ! Countries forever on battle footings , leaders pose with smiles while they plot against one another , mutual assured destruction they only thing keeping them from firing the missiles ! Each day more dangerous than the last , soldiers without uniforms , indiscriminate killing of civilians , **** of historical monuments , it's all quite familiar within this war torn mind !

I appreciate you for inspiring me.
For showing me what friendship means.
For showing what conditional Love can do.
If you allow it to work within your heart.
I am so very Grateful for each of my Friends.
I may never be married again my Friends.
But I have something more value then that.
I have so many Awesome Friends here.
On HP as well as Facebook thank you all.
For being so very inspiring as well as encouraging.

Realizing I am slipping away from her when she didn't text me happy birthday this year. Even though we haven't talked in four years, the very least we could do is say, "I thought of you today, and I hope it's going great." The absence of that sank its fangs into my throat.

Sipping a hot cinnamon dolce latte while sitting on the second floor deck of the student center. Watching students stream in waves to classes, and wondering what their story is.

Hearing the three chimes in 'Cassy O' and the guitar's chaos at minute 6:47 to 7:45 of 'Freedom' live at the Hammersmith Apollo, 2007.

Gazing at the sky when the sun is on the other side of the world, but a shade of crimson tinges in a terrifying drench.

Conversely, when the sky is so white, all one smooth blanket, I wonder what color will I see when I finally go to sleep- or will I be stuck in a black film?

Knowing a boy is near me so I stretch my neck, straighten my back, and hope he notices everything I want a person to notice and grow to love.

The disappointment people have in me swallows my whole body. Sometimes it's an act of cannibalism, and I can't push away regret faster than it starts to lick its lips at the sight of my glistening blood.

Seeing a picture of my younger self from sixteen, and it seems I have changed far too much to connect with the person in the image. She didn't know anything. I still don't know anything.

I stare at myself in the mirror, sometimes fully clothed and sometimes naked, and I wonder, "Who the hell is this? Who is she?" I detach my soul from my frame, and my face does not match my mind.

My eyes can just take a picture. I know the quality and the subject, my camera does not. I see angles and perspectives differently, and it frustrates me that I cannot get my vision out.

Some days my hearing does not affect me whatsoever. I don't even think about it. But others, particularly when I make mistakes, I blame my disability. And I hate to make excuses.

I want someone to film my passing moments, catch my laughter, study my ****** expressions. Expect me to glow and beam when I hear my favorite sounds, know where my dialect comes from, smile when I mention my friends.

One day someone will hold me and reach intimate places, and I'm afraid I will not be sufficient enough.

The scariest thing, however, and I absolutely have no way of explaining it, is life after death. We live for a fraction of time. We will forever live in white space, and not come alive again. Doesn't that terrify you?