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 Feb 2018
Druzzayne Rika
Get me to be
a soul liberated
from every
attachment
it could be.

I want to want
nothing from anywhere
not want to get
tempted
by things unnecessary
get myself bound to
what will be my
downfall

The soul needs nothing
it is to be free
but my own flaws
have made it
not so
that it could go
as it pleases

What is that one really needs
with no one else be depleted
all the seed, sign of lives
but with greed
everything dies

Devoid of true knowledge
what is I seek
I see myself so very weak
my vision so blinded
my eyes itself closes
that I cannot see

the lies will bite
the anger will burn
my own journey
with karma
it will come back on me
I wait
as I expect them
coming to me

My sins who will wash for me?

my thoughts
why they never sided me
they followed the down path
got me to fuss on things
over all the nothings
never mattered to me

the body detoriates
every day, every second passes

My mind forget
what it remembers
I speak no tales, but riddles
what sense
I try to formulate

This time who will be
the one to get it to decode
the mysteries
the real truths
which could liberate
but to think deeper
what really is
the answer lies very deep within
much closer than
who you are actually really.
 Feb 2018
betterdays
the lightning tonight, when it came
was hidden behind the clouds
like old fashioned flashbulbs
those boxy ones, we used to steal
and setoff under the bedsheets

the rain came and went
in a windblown front
pasing through without
taking the heat from the ground
just making the evening more humid

the thunder lived up to expectations
loud and growling at the world
but brief like a dog called to heel

now it has passed out to sea
and the water drips from the leaves
and the humidity continues to rise
 Feb 2018
Sally A Bayan
Am

looking at the ceiling

eyes are fixed on the

white rotating blades

turning around slowly

......oh so slowly

......the monotony

..........hypnotizes me



everything around me

every sound or action

is moving like a snail



the ticktocks of the clock

are droning

the water inside the kettle

is boiling without a sound, i think

thin slices of pork marinated

in soy sauce and lime...frying,

doesn't scare me...the fight between

heated oil and soy sauce

is not as noisy...not as violent

as it had been in the past mornings



i feel them all...slow and hushed

..........as a snowfall in winter

i am thinking of winter this early hour

...yet, it's summer...so hot and humid

...........hot coffee has failed to alter

.......the weary, and dreary airs

....of this early wednesday morning...





Sally



Copyright Feb. 21, 2018

rrab
something that came up at 3 am...
 Feb 2018
lmnsinner
Of you, I am certain


can it snow if the skies are cloudless blue?

will I kiss tomorrow the person sitting bus opposite,
who now gifts me love at first sight?

can my children’s children love me more for who I am,
and not just for who I am?

knowing does true love have an uncertain beginning and a certain end?

would I recognize peace of mind if I ever so blessed, had it in my possess?

if the sun never returned, is happiness possible?

can a broken heart mend itself without new love?

Of all these, I am uncertain. Of you, I am certain!

will this scrip of letters be beloved or overlooked and forgotten?

will the day come sooner when self-rising,
my eyes will be pleased at no new scar ‘discovery.’
my ears hear no snap crackle or pop, and
my blood, pre-warmed, by a lover’s attentions,
to happy coffee cooling and a poem-done at my feet?

will my flaws be healed, scars laser erased, my muddled past,
fall obedient to a blue skies, a white full moon embrace, yours?

will today be the day, two feet identical, left and right banished,
ten new colors invented and rainbow added, and sad illegal?

will I awake somewhere over the rainbow one day,
dreams coming true, troubles melted, way up high?

*
Of all these, I am uncertain. Of you, I am certain!
***
 Feb 2018
Sjr1000
Nature's code
No rosetta stone.

The blind men
The elephant.

In the mirror
I see your face,
you standing there,
depending on the lighting,
the mood of the day,
Aspects
I'm sure,
But knowing you?

While macro systems
control the tides
We're like sea grass growing
from the rocks
bombarded by the
waves
automatically
springing back up

There's probably
a pathway back
to when the meek
inherited the earth
and
bequeathed it

If we can ever figure it out again.

From darkness to darkness
it's a purple puzzle
mystery

All we're left with is,
Goodnight
Sweet dreams
Sleep tight.
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