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 Jul 2016
CA Guilfoyle
Sitting in this void
you seem to fill my love needs
empty calories
 Jul 2016
wordvango
?
what do I refer to, when I talk of something
not real or sensible, but need so god ******  much
people do **** for

we hopefully feel it like the need of a newborn to
cry and breathe, to wriggle for and seek
only hours old

written in song and  themes of novels
and tragedy wrapped up into poems with
roses thornless

Or affairs we do casually take lighter than
a coffee  break as we laugh at the young
things feeling it all out

And the body human the Mother Earth if
not for it would not revolve , and the  poet  
would not rhyme

And Philosophy would have never been born
a thinking man who thought of it all might
be just a normal man
 Jul 2016
Traveler
I dreamt you were an Angel
From a world quite divine
A light shone all around you
As water turned to wine

You came to heal the people
Of their hatred and disease
But you turned away in sorrow
'Cuz your touch could not heal me...

It all felt so familiar
As if it happened once before
You left me in the ruins
Of this bloodstain killing floor...
An old one,
Letter to an ex's.
Back when.
Actually it's a bridge to a song I wrote called, "World Unkind".
What for you need a pen that writes black?
The man at the counter shot back
What has the blue done to offend you?

Look up the firmament
Over there the kingfisher
Once I had been to the sea
She was blue
Surely you prefer over black
A blue saree for her
So many men have staked their life
For the blue eyes of women

And then as if volleying the winning goal

Why not color all your wishes with blue
To paint the world blue-wish?

As I turned to walk away
My eyes caught the writing on his wall..

Black ink for the black heart
For the fool and the dull
Blue for the man of art
With matter in the skull


I had come to the wrong shop.
 Jun 2016
Ignatius Hosiana
At times the little we crave
is too much
*& at times the much
is really too little
Beware:
some who try to hug you,
to pat you on the back-
may well be the very ones
fostering patient and tretcherous daggers
just itching to attack
A paraphrased passage
from Sun Tzu's immortal and timless classic
"The Art of War."

Be cautious of the sword concealed by a smile.
 Jun 2016
r
You walk across the room
in your black *******,
a cigarette in your hand
and turn off the fan
in the open window,
like an undertaker waiting
by the door for the headlights
in the driveway debating
another swig from his flask,
like a ***** blowing smoke
in the dark flicking ash.
 Jun 2016
chimaera
take me

to dance

barefoot,
on the sand

dionysian,
the fire

take
me
17.06.16
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