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 Dec 2016 Ghazal
Kahlil Gibran
And a woman who held a babe against her ***** said, "Speak to us of
Children."

And he said:

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts.

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit,
not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you
with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that
is stable.
 Dec 2016 Ghazal
Onoma
The mind is double talk...
an incessant argument
with mirror images.
A paranoic account of
being pursued of cumulative
aberrations.
Birds in trust of consciousness
have been known to die of
transparency (windows).
They couldn't think beyond a
transparent space...though
a House bid them welcome,
divided against itself.
 Dec 2016 Ghazal
Ju Lia
Surroundings
 Dec 2016 Ghazal
Ju Lia
I was born amidst the city,

I am one with busy highways and graffiti carelessly scrawled across overpasses

I am alive at night,

Lights shine against bare skin;

I’m small against my backdrop

I’m one drop of water amongst a stream of people


I have lived in the country,

Where nobody could be found for miles

Where I was expected to rely on myself and grow into myself

I nurtured myself,

I killed myself,

I wavered and withered with the seasons

But I flourished


I will die by the sea,

Waves may crash against me,

But I will remain upright.

Salt water will heal my wounds

I shall return to nature

I will be washed away; yet eternal
 Nov 2016 Ghazal
Valsa George
Spring dawned after the biting chill,
Beams of sunlight filtered down,
Flakes of snow melted away,
The Earth bathed in brilliant glow

He came,

The dainty Darling of our dreams!
With promises full and hopes in store,
To fill the void,
within our souls.
To burst the silence,
with the clatter of sounds
To dispel the gloom,
that hovered on

He came,

High from Heaven,
like a cherubim sent,
with the glow of umpteen candles lit,

He came,

To gladden our doleful hearts,
To deliver us of our blighted state

He came,

Like the first rain on parched ground,
To drench the arid lands in profuse shower,
To ease the ***** of sweltering heat,
To put out the fire of growing drought

Marveling over the seizure of treasure,
long hidden within the crevices dark,
We stood, so pleasantly taken aback,
over the gift, ere vouched, but long delayed.

Like an eagle in its aerial route,
flew my spirits in ecstatic rounds
Like the Swallow, soaring high above,
my fancy took wings and set to fly.

He lay close to me, the bundle of joy!
His dark little eyes poised on my face,
full with words on silent lips,
and innocence on his glistening visage

I peered into that cute little face,
the face I had long fondled in my dreams,
I whirled in the feel of prime feed,
and swam in the current of maternal bliss!
It was after long 12 years of waiting and after intensive treatment for acute endometriosis, that our first son was born to us at a time when we had given up all hopes. Our joy knew no bounds. Now he is 26 and pursuing a successful career in Law! After three years, my second son also was born. I believe they are gifts from God and I thank Him to have made the impossible possible! For us, a true deliverance!
 Nov 2016 Ghazal
Broken
Broken is the color of my heart
A teardrop, the sound of my mind
Alone is the taste of my thoughts
Nothing, all i feel tonight.
I miss you
 Nov 2016 Ghazal
Thomas Newlove
I had told her about my pin badges -
It was that kind of intimacy.

I had written poems about her -
It was that kind of intimacy.

She returns with another present,
In fact, more than one,
Despite being a woman scorned -
It was that kind of intimacy.

One, a postcard, to return my gesture,
A memory we shared together -
It was that kind of intimacy.

Two, a pin, she travelled to find,
Searching to fix something that
Was never broken.
To her, this was a failure,
To me, it was
Our kind of intimacy.

And three, a notebook,
Because she knows what I love,
And that words lie deep inside of me,
Screaming to come out.

I write this to her to apologise
For being a fool, and to thank her
For her undying encouragement
And her endless inspiration
And her kind, warm words -
A beautiful friendship married
By the endless embers of
Written words -
Our kind of intimacy.
 Nov 2016 Ghazal
Anne Webb
?
 Nov 2016 Ghazal
Anne Webb
?
Did you ever wonder why,
everyone keeps thinking of Death,
but Life gets so little credit?
Really, try to google Death and you'll find hundreds of different pictures of how people imagine death, but when you google Life? Well... it just doesn't seem right, does it?
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