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Those sparkling eyes
were the secret place
in which I would like
to be lost forever. ...
Your eyes are special for me
~~
What's coming out from inside
At first I could not understand
Sometimes some words make a pain
Even can make a lot of meaning
Sometimes in vain,
To say that, alone, alone

Then if I aligns those random words
On a white paper
As the Jigsaw,
And if I try to rearrange
It makes a little senses

Sometimes life is like a river flowing to the,
Sings the music of nature
Where Sparrow and Starlings play day and night,
Build their home
Make their family

They feel romance,
Inspired everybody to be romantic
Or Maybe say about the lost Spring
Even can say about the mystic origin of creation

Not just happen
Of Course  there any link between
Gravity of time, its responsibility
Not someone anyone to take

Any love,
Distinct memory,
A few questions
Sometimes those answers matching
Or Sometimes do not match

When the time comes to go back
To its own courtyard
Mystic mesh masks
The seasonal variations

You and me
Our Childhood
Nexus
Love
Everything is slowly faded from
The memory pages
~~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
Never trust a white man,
Never **** a Jew,
Never sign a contract,
Never rent a pew.
Don't enlist in armies;
Nor marry many wives;
Never write for magazines;
Never scratch your hives.
Always put paper on the seat,
Don't believe in wars,
Keep yourself both clean and neat,
Never marry ******.
Never pay a blackmailer,
Never go to law,
Never trust a publisher,
Or you'll sleep on straw.
All your friends will leave you
All your friends will die
So lead a clean and wholesome life
And join them in the sky.
 May 2015 Isha Kumar
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.
Let the poets write with fractured wrists
And bleeding fingers
Let them utter through broken lungs
And splintered tongues
About a lover they once had
And how they tossed their voice in the ocean
Because of misplaced devotion
Let the poets sever the silence
That spills from the sheets you lay upon
Where passion is long gone
Now you're wondering if this constitutes as love
But you've merely forgotten that his skin
Is a pretty cover for the bones that rot within
*Let the poets love you
Agonisingly sweetly
But never as discreetly
 May 2015 Isha Kumar
nicole smith
Why do you say you miss me?
There's no need to tell lies.
Why do you say you miss me?
When I won't give us another try.

Why do you say you miss me?
Now that you can't see me everyday.
Why do you say you miss me?
While you give other kisses away.

Why do you say you miss me?
Only talking to me over the phone.
Please don't say you miss me
when what you miss is not being alone.
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