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Harshness vanished. A sudden softness
has replaced the meadows' wintry grey.
Little rivulets of water changed
their singing accents. Tendernesses,

hesitantly, reach toward the earth
from space, and country lanes are showing
these unexpected subtle risings
that find expression in the empty trees
Hearts will flutter like tiny wings
  soaring spirits into the depths of heaven
hovering in the stillness, the silence
When love embraces, arms unite
Lips entice and passions burn
flying those brilliant sapphire skies
racing those mighty currents of sea
Laying in the softness of space
in feelings that are at last released
Born fresh to life and all its vastness
With hearts fluttering like butterflies.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph
 Dec 2012 Ella Gwen
Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
the inherent beauty of the mob
is in the fluidity of their anger
it is the colors of burning buildings
the music of guttural chants
the freedom granted by inevitable destruction
and the finality
of their judgment
it is in the perfection of collective enmity
and the clamant rectification of flaws perceived
so that in the end
all that remains
is the disarrayed corpse of the mob
and the excrement of it’s existence
not as a force of humanity
but as a mechanism
of wanton ferality
One More, My Love
One More, Cigarette
To quench the stress in your shoulderblades
One More, Sweet Note
From the belly of the dying Piano
One More, Last Kiss
Before you learn to hate me for the rest of your life
One More, Burried Treasure
In the park by the tree where we met
And One More, Excuse
As to why I let you wander into oncoming traffic when I knew you were drunk and I should have been watching you.
Jealousy
An awful advisor
That leaves you by yourself
Heartbroken and grieving
For what was not
For what was lost
For what it really was…
© Gabriela Abalo
 Nov 2012 Ella Gwen
Chad Kerner
Kick push.

Dig your toes in
your heels too.
lean in to prevent your fall.

90% commitment
10% being ready to die.

Repetition is the instrument that pounds out talent to rise above the sky.
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