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 Jul 2016 George Krokos
RAJ NANDY
Dear Poet Friends, having read Henri Bergson’s ‘’Creative Evolution’’, which won him the Noble Prize for Literature and is now considered a Classic, I was impressed by his words, ‘’Life does not end with death. It conquers death through reproduction……..and creative evolution.’’ Bergson’s book inspired me to compose this poem way back in 2008, and post it on ‘Poem Hunter.com’. Hope you like this short and simple poem. Thanks, - Raj.

     THE CHURCH AND THE GRAVEYARD
The Graveyard lies silent behind the Church’s cool
shade,
As the shadow of the belfry tower falls over the
world of the dead.
Perhaps they are mysteriously compatible in certain
ways!
Through the front door of the Church we enter;
And with passage of time through the rear door
we exit and go,
Forever mingling with Life’s eternal flow.

In the Church marriages are solemnised.
New born babies are christened and baptised.
Hymns and sermons are heard on Sabbath Days,
People kneel down in silence to pray.
Some to repent and confess, -
To seek salvation and are blessed.
And when the older generation pass away,
In the graveyard behind the church they are
laid to rest.

Yet amidst death Life goes on .......
With peels of bells and chorus songs.
The world of the dead is surrounded by Life,
Our younger generations live and thrive.
For the epitaph cannot bury Life’s eternal song!
Green grass grows around the dead,
And trees showers flowers from overhead.
Bouquets of roses on cold marble slabs,
With fond memories a tear drop is shed,
In loss of the loved one, now in the world of
the dead!

While Life surges, swirls, and flows all around,
As the dead lie in their graves where silence
surrounds.
New Life sprouts, and memories slowly fade …….  
The Graveyard lies in the Church’s cool shade!
                                                                    -Raj Nandy.
Disappointment in the advancement of mankind
I will admit guilt of enjoyment of my computer time
Our world had become dependent upon computerization
Our purpose has lost good ole' fashioned ways
Our brains are addicted to the Digital age
The younger generation sent back in time may turn to rage
Tik Tok
Vimeo
Facebook
Twitter*
Google
Are just a few
Without the Internet it is impossible to get a job interview
Remembering an actual time in the past
Filling out applications in the place of employment
Seeing the supervisors eye's, knowing if this was the job for you
Getting a sense if it would last
Today to fill out an application
You sit in front of your computer at home
Clicking futilely, as if you are a drone
??ARE WE ADVANCING AS MAN KIND??
*??IF WE CONTINUE TO ADVANCE IN THIS FASHION WILL WE BE BLIND??
I BELIEVE I SHOULD AD ANOTHER LINE!! PERHAPS, IF WE CONTINUE IN THIS FASHION HUMANS WILL NO LONGER BE WHAT THE EMPLOYER WANTS TO FIND
there was never any more of you than there is now,
nor any more of me than there is now,
if we shall be heaven, let us be heaven now,
if we shall be heathens, let us be heathens now,
for you are the south of yesterday
and the north of tomorrow
for i am the west of nothing
and the east of infinity
let us love where we cross
and if we shall cross, let us cross now
and if we shall cross only once
i will make east kiss west
and i will let south kiss north
until we become infinitesimally small
towards nospace and notime
i unbecoming i
you unbecoming you
us becoming from two
infinite at the single point now
at the single moment now
where we are nothing but now
“There was never any more inception than there is now,
Nor any more youth or age than there is now;
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.”
--Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
i am a mere word of this page
and you are the phrases i admire most that i can't have.
at least give me a proof of sentence,
that i am still part of your paragraph.
i've never thought that this boundless sea of whiteness
can be so lonesome.
the large gap between us and other words,
feels like the vastness of the ocean,
drowning me in and out of the pages.*

©IGMS
the untold story of the lonely word
 May 2016 George Krokos
Lora Lee
The influx of emotions
        and their ebb
                      and flow
swirl like a cyclone within me
I stand upon the cliffs,
                      hair blowing
                                mind rolling
into nuances
and languages
existing beyond words
 as each feeling whirls
                         and melts
into the other
     until they rise like birds
Around me,                      
each one takes the stance
                     of a miniature kite
attached to my limbs
pulling me this way
                                 and that
Yes, I know that our emotions
 are as rivers,    
                        rushing through
our banks
           soaking the essence
                                of our beings
              with fresh coolness
and alternately,
where it meets sea,
brine in searing tears                  
I know the stillness of my
               own soul, placid as a
                             rock in a typoon    
     yet sometimes
          unable to shake off
the heaviness of algae
it can almost suffocate
and to get through its
            dank seaweed density
          I shall just envision lightness
in the aviary form
              of hummingbirds
or kingfishers…yes, even soaring eagles
tugging on my heartstrings
lifting me up and away
into the proverbial clouds
so I can just
                curl up
         into fetal position
and let myself be
                      gently rocked
                             until the storm
                       blows over
 Apr 2016 George Krokos
Lora Lee
You sometimes really
wear me out
run my emotions through
                                prewash
like laundry in the machine
spinning me around
and I know only I can stop it
but I do not want to
because of the fact
that the souls of your eyes
recognize in me what longs
to be touched
and you touch it
so much more than you think
so even if the going gets rough
even if the whites and darks
get mixed
and there is static fluff
and it clogs up the kitchen sink
I am not leaving, yet
I am holding my ground
and I hope you stay with me
coz I need you around
to see through
that laundry until it's done
even if it gets very, very *****
and the load needs to shoot
oh, we'll deal with that
because we are connected
we're on the same route
so put me through rinse
it doesn't faze me
as long as your love,
like magic soap
continues to clean and raise me
I want you in my life
as long as I know
that at the end of the cycle
we'll continue
to grow
 Apr 2016 George Krokos
Sisilia
An atheist said to a reverent:

Heaven is a fairy-tale for those
who are afraid of the dark

The priest replied:

Atheism is a fairy-tale for those
who are afraid of the light.
Quoted by Philosopher: Ray Andrew.
Please note that i have nothing against atheism nor atheist people.
They are no different from any other being.
I'm sorry if this did offend anyone in anyway.
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