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Let  Me Go
There is Nothing Here

And suddenly
The Pen
Let Go
Of My Hand
And It
Was Over
 Jun 2016 Eleanor B
tRevor gUmede
It seems we good at killing
Maybe even the best
But what good ever came from destruction
When had it considered the rest

Violence is nature
Brought by greed, envy and anger
Violence is not courage
Nor will it brought peace
There is a time for outrage
But violence is never the key.

So for hearts filled with fire
Release it in art and and pleasant desires.
 Jun 2016 Eleanor B
anu
Feels achieved the purpose of life
When I saw him smiling
After receiving my gift
For his birthday
Love you dad!!!
Happy birthday Dad..
 Jun 2016 Eleanor B
CRAZY DAISY
I've read your final words
over and over again
since the day you left me

I have memorized
many simple phrases
and entire pages too

You will always be
my very first love story
A beloved rose garden union
and our hearts
the water of life

I sit here now
in this silent room
filled with melancholy
unwillingly remembering
our supposed destiny

I was your sun
and you my rainstorm
circling in the glorious
heavens above

You left me here alone
like an old forgotten book
on a dusty shelf
in an empty world

I can no longer find
the need to breathe
embracing for my
last earthly breath
as I suffocate
in the truth of it all
 Jun 2016 Eleanor B
Sejal Nathany
I regret that it sometimes takes a life
To learn how to live;
To live on the edge of a knife,
To learn to wholeheartedly give.

It's not yet late my friend, you still have a chance:
Follow your intuition,let your heart decide.
Let your feet happily tap to dance;
Have self-confidence, but not pride.

Life is too short to think about what others say -
Hold your head high and sing in mirth.
In your path, come what may,
Let everyday seem like it's your rebirth.

It's time to leave behind the past,
What is done cannot be undone.
Live as if each day is your last;
Decide your own path herein,just remember to have fun.
 Jun 2016 Eleanor B
Paul Hansford
The love of a mother for her child
is not the same as the child's love for his mother.
The love of a man for a woman changes
after they are married
from what it was before,
and her love does not correspond in all points with his.
Love between man and woman
is different from the love of boy and girl.

Love can be permanent as the tides, regular, unquestioned,
with no end and no recognisable beginning.
It can come suddenly,
violently,
as a thunderstorm in summer breaks
upon the thirsty earth,
short-lived
except in the memory.

But under any one of these emotions
what is there for us to say?
Only, I love you.

Thoughts can be subdivided, classified, clothed with words.
Words fit feelings only approximately,
and our deepest feelings must often go unclothed.
So when I say I love you
I cannot analyse what I mean.
I only know that I do love you
and hope you understand.
My first published poem, in a university magazine, 1968.

I still believe it, and would not change a word of it.
Someday...

It will be...
Their turn to speak...

...Of *these resonating heartbeats


Angels will find freedom
To grant them blessings...

Zealously sweet stories
Written in stone
For their everlasting comfort
And peaceful memories
...
 Jun 2016 Eleanor B
Stu Harley
we hear
the
wind whistles
in
red autumn
wind
 Jun 2016 Eleanor B
Stu Harley
lightning
carved
the
white clouds
into
mighty thor
with
hammer
for war
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