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 May 2014
Raphael Uzor
What I said...
What you heard...
Were light-years apart!
10w
 May 2014
Amitav Radiance
The morning sun rays bathing the soul
Waking it up from the dreaming consciousness
Eyes soaking in the awakened beauty
Taking off the cover of night, to reveal a new day
Sun rays swathing over the valley
A watercolor painting over the Earth’s canvas
Vivid colors are splashed to create a spectacle to behold
A wave of warm embrace caresses us
As we get ready to rise up to the occasion
To usher a new day and new dreams in our heart




© Amitav (Radiance)
 May 2014
nivek
my guardian angel woke me today
knocking on the front door
as usual I was too full of first thing in the morning
to be able to answer such a call
happens all the time
 May 2014
Jayanta
When they move towards
Wind impels over the
Bamboo groves and
A thunderous sound spread over
Everyone scare........
They come to take share of harvest,
They are branded as Tughami  !
**Every one disquiet and pray to almighty!
*Tughami*– a *Sema Naga* word means spirit of nature. *Sema Naga* is tribes inhabited mainly in Nagaland of India. Among this group there is believe that after the harvesting when wind started (it is usually common in North Eastern Part of India from second half of February to First Part of April) blow (as because most of their homestead area is border with crop field are bordered Bamboo groves) people heed a sound over Bamboo Groves, they believes that  *Tughami* come to take share of harvest, because only because of mercy of Tughami they can able get good harvest. So, they respect it, put some crop near to Bamboo groves (which support the wild life) and pray to god at that time. Practice was shared by the villagers of *Pherema* of Nagaland in last January, when I visited the place.
 May 2014
K Balachandran
Her cunning eyes
he spied, slyly write
the usual evaluation note
any guy is familiar:
"His eyes are right there
where the difference lies
grazing my curves
as if it is all his;
on the edge he is, I am sure
his eyes are heavily laden
with lust".His eyes,
are they any less?
"She has decided
in an instance to extract
a big price, need to conceal well
emotions like an unfinished sculpture,
till the exact time to unveil"
he gets his report, immediately acts,
her face falls with a thud.
 May 2014
Michelle E Witek
Quietly, they trace my veins
As they fall to my arms
These tears are too salty
To fool anyone
That I'm
Fine
 May 2014
Michelle E Witek
There is something about crying in the shower.
It soothes my crouching body in warm drops.
Erases my anxiety, makes me connected
To something.
I cant do that with people anymore.
Connect, you know?
****, when you've gone through so many close friends?
You kind of get used to being ready to move on.
Immediately.
My smiles, my made up face, are friendly.
Inside I feel the defense come up that keeps me
From feeling close.
And it feels safe, you know?
That disconnect.
It's just second-nature to me now.
 May 2014
Michelle E Witek
If I close my eyes tight enough I can feel your skin again.
My fingers can be locked tightly between yours again.
Your breath dances on my cheek...again.
I'm trapped in desperation to be close to you again.
I find myself wrapped in your shirt you sent me off with
Sprayed in your cologne that reminds me it wasn't a dream.
Not sure if I want to add more to this or not.
 May 2014
Michelle E Witek
Dandelions are for the hopeful.
Maybe it's because when they die
Fragile as they become
They still hold the power of life.
Maybe, it's the metaphor.
The idea that when we make a wish
When we gently blow the seeds of our dreams out into the world
They will land and prosper and grow.
Planting the belief in them becoming reality.
Just don't stand there and watch me fall*

Out of love
Or whatever this could've been

As the resentment builds
You hold so much power just by
Understanding

Just show me
The real you
 May 2014
Raj Arumugam
at Graveyard 659
the ghosts are floating in a meeting

“Someone ought to put up a
wall round our graveyard,”

opines one wise bearded ghost

“And why?” asks the Chair

“Why?” screams the reply
*“Can’t you see what's up
with those mortals? -
there's such huge demand
everyone’s just dying to get in...”
another poem in my series on ghosts, ghouls...this poem is particularly in the tradition of dark humour...or you could say, it's a kind of Zen moment, producing a flash of insight, a satori
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