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I’ve given up everything,
apparently for the express purpose of  
finding myself here with exactly nothing
and no place to put it.

ljm
Tomorow may well turn out to be catastrophic.  We'll see.
 Nov 2017
Sarita Aditya Verma
Sugar and Spice

The moments of Happiness

Stolen from Mundane

Sifted from the Rigour

Tempering Done

Sweetning Some

Happy the Moments

Savoured every Flavour

Sugar and Spice
 Nov 2017
Seema
A ray of bright light
Beaming on my scared torn face
Through a small nail hole


©sim
5-7-5 syllables
Haiku
 Nov 2017
Anne Curtin
I am a poet who cannot write,
a reader who cannot follow a sentence.

I wear four sweaters yet cannot feel warm,
know secrets I cannot tell.

I want to run but have no place to go,
I am screaming but cannot open my mouth.
To continuously steal
Someone's tribal sense
Of pride and dignity,

Is the lowest act
Of narcissistic bigotry!

By Lady R.F. (C) 2017
The winter is slowly killing her
and me
but on the deck by her side
at the low tide
the river at three is a sparkling glass
feeding a belief
there would be no end of us.
With her on the river Bidyadhari, Nov 5, 2017, 3 pm.
High speed. Shouts and screams.
Cool air, and the art of lost rhythms.
Make up, blush, black doozy mascara,
An overdose joint production!
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