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 Aug 2014 paper boats
Homer
XV. TO HERACLES THE LION-HEARTED (9 lines)

(ll. 1-8) I will sing of Heracles, the son of Zeus and much the
mightiest of men on earth.  Alcmena bare him in Thebes, the city
of lovely dances, when the dark-clouded Son of Cronos had lain
with her.  Once he used to wander over unmeasured tracts of land
and sea at the bidding of King Eurystheus, and himself did many
deeds of violence and endured many; but now he lives happily in
the glorious home of snowy Olympus, and has neat-ankled **** for
his wife.

(l. 9) Hail, lord, son of Zeus!  Give me success and prosperity.
 Aug 2014 paper boats
lX0st
Waste
 Aug 2014 paper boats
lX0st
I tried to escape you
But your scent lingers on my skin
And makes me hate
All the things I once loved,
Because they're merely fireflies
In your moonlit sky
And I waste amongst the stars
Waiting for you to come back around.
What a waste.
 Aug 2014 paper boats
Jane Austen
"See they come, post haste from Thanet"

See they come, post haste from Thanet,
Lovely couple, side by side;
They've left behind them Richard Kennet
With the Parents of the Bride!
Canterbury they have passed through;
Next succeeded Stamford-bridge;
Chilham village they came fast through;
Now they've mounted yonder ridge.

Down the hill they're swift proceeding,
Now they skirt the Park around;
Lo! The Cattle sweetly feeding
Scamper, startled at the sound!

Run, my Brothers, to the Pier gate!
Throw it open, very wide!
Let it not be said that we're late
In welcoming my Uncle's Bride!

To the house the chaise advances;
Now it stops—They're here, they're here!
How d'ye do, my Uncle Francis?
How does do your Lady dear?
 Aug 2014 paper boats
Tessa
I think i may be falling in love with people
all too easily
I see their faces and their clothes
but i know there is so much more
I make up the stories of strangers who pass me
I imagine their heartbreak, i can taste the sadness
I know the pain that they feel
carrying their dead around with them
everywhere they go

so do I
I carry you, I carry my memories
they slouch around nosily behind me they will not leave
some are small little moments which i sort chronologically
some are wrapped neatly into small bundles
some are fiercely independent and will not be wrapped

we are all so similar, we all feel the same things
we love we hurt we breathe we walk on
how can we choose to close ourselves up
when we are all the same on the inside
people need hugs more often
everyone has their battles
please be kind to everyone


*You wrote a romantic love poem
that loved you and me
like the flower and bee
and all this poured at the dreaming May

Now I write a sad love poem
that is again calling you, my love
and I build a tragic epitaph of love
May be it will be the end of my gleaming May

###
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
Love come to me in its romantic mode and lost with its sad,
but reminded me the gleaming of Spring ...
I carried her over the threshold,
her flesh hot,
the bed cold, but it waited for us
patiently.
The inquisitor was born to die, forever
asking questions, why.
We asked again,
the counterpane cut out the night
we saw the light
together.
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