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 Sep 2018
Valsa George
After years of aimless wanderings
Leaving behind the cities of midnight revels
And the fevered journey in metro rails,
I am back at the land of my people.

Wherever I went,
Under which ever roof I slept,
I had carried my land,
As a jewel in a casket
And ensured it rested safe
Ever under my pillow

As I moved with aliens
Unable to merge with their cultural mores,
I saw my land glimmer in darkness
Like a dew drop on a moon blanched leaf

When I sweated in the blistering sands
A patch of green landscape, like an oasis
Wafted me in a cool embrace
Then dreams poured in like star light
And I wandered in the meadows of my youthful love
My heart struggling to forget old longings
And memories lashing upon me like tidal waves

Pursued by that inalienable shadow
Suddenly being born in flesh and blood
I hastened to the streets of my youth
With hopes galore and plans vivid

But alas! There is none to recognize me
Oh! I am a stranger here
An unwelcome stranger among total strangers
Now I wonder which is truly my land?
The one left behind or the one just landed in?

Oscillating between these two worlds,
My fractured identity looms large
With worms of memories wriggling in my flesh
And a myth suddenly dying in my brain
I am glad to share with my friends here that this poem- My Fractured Identity- is prescribed for the 10th Grade students-English for Junior High School- entitled Voyagers, in the country of Philippines. The exciting thing is that my poem appears among the writings of eminent men like James Joyce, Rudyard Kipling, Shelley, Virginia Woolf, Jules Verne, Jean Jacques Rousseau and the like. I feel it a great honor !!
 Sep 2018
Thomas P Owens Sr
and in the days that are now few
nights hold old dreams
hope is a vanquished relic
the attic fills with
the memories of moments
that can never be renewed
or recaptured
I crave the flashes
of a long ago lover's smile
her touch, her whispers
accepting the ache
that shadows these moments I summon

I will not let them pass so easily
I will hold dear the gift of love
the gift of life
upon my return
and in the days that are now few
I speak with ghosts
10/2007 - kept 1st 2 lines and totally revised the rest
 Sep 2018
Yitkbel
Before I met you

I was merely an unaging larva

Adept at hiding

Terrified of living

That always closed itself in.


It wasn't until you suddenly rushed in

that I finally gathered up the courage

The desire, the hope, the need

To burst from my suffocating casing

And flew right to thee,

Thinking you were just like me.

But when I did,

I saw what I didn't want to see

I saw the fragile mirror

That your kind eyes were reflecting

And found myself to be

Not the beautiful butterfly I was expecting

But an ordinary worker bee.


So I worked and worked

With my every breath

Persevered for you to notice me

Pleaded that you stay with me

Instead you flew away from me

And the wind under your wings

Carried away every little thing

Sunshine, earth, and rain

Till I finally withered in Spring

Till I finally accepted my fate and gave in

Became a drop of honey

Content just to be

The unseeable sweetness in that warm cup of tea,

I used to see you land in.
The Metamorphosis of a Bee

By: Yitkbel

Sunday, October 1, 2017
She can walk
          between
             night and day
               never letting either
                  get in her way.
She learned this trick
                     many moons ago
                                by
                     going deep within
           and never letting it show.
Her soul is innocent
her heart is pure
she’s gone through more
than most could endure.
            She’s an angel of light
                 an angel of dark
                 you never know
              what you will spark.
                      You want to hurt her?
                         Please, go ahead and try
                           she’ll be the one to show you
                                  just how well she can
                                                              f
­                                                                l­
                                                                ­  y.
                                  Her soul innocent
                    her heart pure
      but never think for one minute
that she’s not secure.
                                Say what you will
                          please, do what you must
                       but your jealousy and hatred
                             won’t waver her trust!
~
Even Those Angels Out There Have Their Limits…..
 Aug 2018
Lily
Listen to me.
This is going to sound cliche,
But I think you need to hear it.
We are in high school,
We have our whole lives ahead of us.
Yes, I know you love them,
And knowing that they don't return
Your feelings anymore is heartbreaking.
I understand that.
But please, please,
Don't fall into the trap of
Thinking less of yourself because of this.
You are a beautiful, talented human
Without a partner.
Yes, a partner is a great thing to have,
But loving yourself will get you so much further!
You are simply YOU.
Nobody should be able to give that to you,
Nor take it away.
If they don't understand and appreciate you,
There will be somebody who does.
Just because this one doesn't work out,
Doesn't mean you have to
Give up on love.
I'm not saying go out and date right away,
But take your time,
Live your life,
Do the things you love to do,
Find yourself.
Once you find out who you are,
Nobody can touch that.
You will be unstoppable.
You are a determined and talented person,
And you are going places in life.
Yes, breakups are really tough.
But you are tougher.
Don't worry; if you're not in high school, the rest of the poem still applies to you!
 Aug 2018
eleanor prince
fireball burst
searing
probity

clenched coil
bleeds purple
rabid rage

fists itch
sue for
strike

temple warden
glares strained
calls culled

rampant riot
bristles broken
fervid

all exits
blocked tight
stifled screams

fade as winds
of sense
take command
the interplay of internal forces as one grapples with strong emotions like rage
 Aug 2018
eleanor prince
once more
layers of casing
are torn

papers culled
windows gleam
sheets smile

the cost is high
if not see
when to stop

can I find north
after all
I’d asked

so life’s paths
once veiled
in yesterday's grime

dispatched
to the winds
reveal

another vision
refreshing as
spring rain

seeking every fissure
quietly lodged boarders
not paying rent

evicted
as another corner
begs mastery

along with
a neater place
it dawns on me

atrophy
is the order
of things

vacate for a few
short paces
and face

it all again
wrenching me
from the lulling

status quo
of my stilted
blindness
sometimes when we ask for greater clarity in life, to be able to 'see' things at a more profound breadth and depth, a cleansing of sorts emerges on every level
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