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 Sep 2014
eunsung aka Silas
grateful for another day
with breath in my lungs

there were days when
I used to pray for death,
but today I pray to grow
so I can be more useful
and to help another who
is suffering
each day is a gift
 Sep 2014
Louise
It's so simple really,
'Let the pen write,
tell my tale,
explain how I feel!'

I cannot!
The pen is eager,
in hand.
My mind,  however,
is stubborn
and secretive

I don't want to write
although I feel the urge.
My thoughts,
are not clear enough.
I 'suspect',
yet I cannot express.
I'm sure this will not make any sense.  I've posted it as it makes sense to me and hopefully I can be rid of an uncertainty I've caused myself.
: )
 Sep 2014
eunsung aka Silas
i want to laugh uncontrollably with someone I love

run naked through the woods at night

make amends to people I've harmed

tell my wife I love her

give thanks to a God of my understanding for my life

hold my baby daughter in my arms
I've done everything except the last one, which will hopefully happen in a few months when she is born.
Have not seen them for quite a while
Breaking like a thousand springs
Its ripples spreading across a mile
Touching heavens on butterfly wings!

It’s infective in its length and span
Cackling joyous like a thousand duck
God would be charmed (not to speak of man)
Its spell makes every man awe struck!

It’s quite a while life is losing fun
With faces wearing botox on stressed lip
Not getting at least one when the day is done
To give this soul a stronger fillip!

I need your muscles playing around your eyes
Your cheeks raised high for me to see
Doing so would bring me double sunrise
And live each day ever more happily!
Guillaume Duchenne, French neurologist, was the first to identify the distinction between smiles real and fake.
 Sep 2014
wordvango
this is a rant
on who the painter is who paints a white canvas.
who makes it blank, all the same?
Who paints with one color, the confused?
My painter, the one who created this canvas
this universe this creation
paints with many shades of
variance. He paints not
one nation, not one race, not one star, not one season,
he paints
many faces,
many days all different
many nights some dark
some radiant.
He painted  us the colors
of all of heaven. Gave us the many shades of gray.
He painted a sunrise yellow of goldest glow,
a night to see the day with a new perspective.
He painted choices right
and painted us the freedom to choose.
Trees of many green with barks light and dark
some are white. All are right.
Remember who painted this.
He painted a sky
not always blue.
 Sep 2014
Sally A Bayan
(A POEM FOR PRADIP)


In these early hours of evening
when sun has dipped down, hiding
cold has set in, warmth cooled by wind blowing,
your words haunt me, left me pondering.

For a sunshine poem, you asked,
but how? when it is now dusk,
there is no sun,  only dark to show,
not even a moon aglow.

All i see are fiery dots of light, shimmering
in the garden, i am alone, wondering
I do not see them closely
yet, i feel they could be friendly.

They are luminous lanterns, seemingly beaming,
could these suffice to keep your flame burning?

In the widening dark, they bask
to perform their given task
carrying drops of hope with their sparkles,
scattered ***** of chances, radiated by lighted candles.
They are so tiny, collectively bright,
wandering, even on a moonless summer night...

I have not one sunshine poem for you,
instead, thousands of Fireflies, i offer you
to let their light shine generously on your  face
dry every bit of sadness, leaving not a trace.
to dry tears hidden
ease your shoulders laden.

I wish i could see your smile
hug you, even just for a while
wear your sombrero
'til day after tomorrow.


I pray my words have beamed enough,
to save your day, to see you through...


F I R E F L I E S

by

Sally



Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***This is not much, Pradip,  done in a hurry,
but, I hope you like it...***
 Sep 2014
Tryst
Sometimes
When I’m writing at night,
I hear them

Lurking
Silently in the darkness,
Ever watchful

Furtively
I glance behind me,
"Who’s there?"

I don’t mind
Voices that laugh, or cry
Or "tut tut" profusely

*But the silence
Of empty footprints
Can be deafening
First published 17th Sept 2014, 18:15 AEST
 Sep 2014
SG Holter
Yes, I may get sour, even  
Angry, at things where my
Reaction has effects.

Caring little about spending
Myself on distant affairs,
I am an ambassador of common

Decency. Not some moral police,
But a surrenderer of seat
To an elder standing in the

Aisle. I'll find the owner of that
Dog left out in the rain. You may
Be a brother to me; still

I'll ask you to keep your
Voice down if I see
That it bothers

Others. I've been that guy myself.
A thirty-something-year-old acting
Fifteen, making others change tables,

Or even leave the premises.
I've taken up more space than I
Require. I don't wish that

Retrospective shame and regret
On any of my friends.
I'll not throw a stone at a sinner,

That I haven't already
Flung at a
Mirror.
 Sep 2014
Amanda In Scarlet
Others have tried to please me,
They failed, because, deep down
They were trying to please themselves.

You don't try.
You just do.

Before you, I fed on happiness scraps.
They tasted good
but I was starving,
I gobbled up and pleaded; give me more,
I tried to be deserving.

But you and I...We don't need to give, or take, or bargain,
Ever-friend, always-love,
We are happy just to hold each others hopes, and hearts, and secret dreams.
There are no conditions, no expectations
Our lives are both complex and impossible, simple and limitless.

I will pour myself into you, fill the aching places of need
You will never, ever let me beg, or cringe, or weep, or plead.
I haggle over the price a kilo

a city fellow
deft in bargain

The veg seller
she’s a minnow
simple plain

Cuts the price
smiles so nice
her profits dip

She didn’t say
if I had my way

would buy her cheap!

— The End —