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His eyes rivet on the extravagant evening sun,
in frenzied creation, profusely mixing colors,
applying on the canvas of the horizon,
painting her, his lover with astonishing precision,
--portrait of a girl in love
unmindful of what the world thinks about her
and in  total dedication to her man.
Love makes larger than life heroes out of weak mortals,
and creates echoes on the far horizons that keep on reverberating!

She sits quietly holding his hands as if it is all she needs
never thinking, it is obvious, whether this is a fallacy or ultimate truth,
that holds good for all the changing seasons.
With her long chiseled fingers she draws
something beautiful, a motif that emerged in her mind,
in front of them, the seascape, was a lively cyclorama
framed by bright ultramarine.
Like eels just out of water,  their bodies gleaming,
bikini clad glam girls, beach soldiers spearheading
an undeclared beauty attack,
on the look out for hidden challenges
while walking past the love pair,
each one stands awhile, scrutinizing her thoroughly
measuring with a scale, hidden in those eyes,
as if she was a **** on parade, even women couldn't help covet.
Though inappropriately dressed, for the beachfront appearance,
she invites more attention,  she is amused.
But after a tumultuous love, and eventful elopement
she is in bliss,  in her love-land with her prince
she is just ecstatic, no thought could  make her shake off her composure.
On a bright and sunny day at midnight,

Two dead boys came up to fight,

They drew their swords and shot at each other,

A deaf man heard this noise and came to help the two dead boys,

Don't believe this story?

Ask the blind man, he saw it all.
Of Spring I dream...
cool moss alive in verdant green
with cherry flowers - petals fall like snow
our footsteps pressing in
dissolve cold snowy lands
in the heart of sun
love, born of fire
unfolding
an older poem revised
"Finding Oneself" is either an excuse or a delusion;
an outright lie to Oneself as well as others.
One does not find Oneself; One creates Oneself.

The Creation process is abstract and arduous.
Some create better with others; others, better alone.
It is it's own reward; suffer it with a smile.
If you cheat in terms of personal growth,
you cheat yourself and those around you.
***
*** should not be Bait
nor means for leverage;
*** should be expressive
of deeper spiritual tides.

Maybe it's just me
and my romantic philosophy
but I'm sick of this complacent disedification;
all this living for selfish instant gratification.
Experience is important, but overindulgence is dangerous.
This is a dream.
Look around you.
Study your self.
In time, you may come to see what I mean by
“This is a dream”:

What was it like before you were born?
I suppose it was like just before falling asleep.
What will it be like after you die?
I suppose it may be somewhat like just after waking up.
Then, metaphysically, you'll do things, and then, ultimately
go back to sleep.
When you do, you'll probably start “dreaming” again.
Another of my earliest submissions; revisited.
It takes a rather rare degree of Integrity
to resist the pull of the current of Circumstance;
it is far too great for far too many
who chose a path
of weak spirit.
Help me to remember
by helping me to forget
And vice-versa.
One's mind affects what happens,
both directly and indirectly.
Both because the Mind drives
the vehicle of One's Body, and otherwise.
It can be constructive or corrosive or neither.
It's your choice.
Yet another of my earliest entries. Revisited.
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