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 Sep 2018 Krysel Anson
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If you could see yourself the way I see you
For just a week,
For just a day,
For just an hour,
Or even for a fleeting glimpse in a crowd.

If you could see yourself through my eyes
Then hopefully you would see
That glow around your eyes when you smile
Especially when the smile is sincere
Even when your heart isn't in it, I see it still.

If you could see yourself through my eyes
Maybe you would hear the chimes
That accompany your voice when you laugh.
Maybe you would feel that warmth in your heart
Even when you're fake laughing at my jokes.

If you could see yourself the way I see you,
Standing ready even when you've been tested,
Holding your ground against wave after wave after wave,
Prepared to withstand your thousandth trial,
Even when you know you're on the edge of collapse.

If you could see yourself the way I see you,
You would be stunned into silence.
You would be amazed at the creature you saw.
You would let go of that last nagging thought.
You would love yourself as deeply as I love you.
Lighting the candle at both ends
Watching the slow burn of the fuse
Waiting for the inevitable explosion
The one that blew our world apart
Leaving me seemingly lifeless
Hanging on by the ventricles of my heart
Shrapnel in every part of me
Attempting to inch my way
away from you
Without you noticing
Before you can stop me
With your empty promises
And never ending lies
That I fall for every time
Piecing myself together
And finding some solid ground
Learning how to move forward
From the destruction
in which I was starting to drown
Wondering
If we’re as toxic as everyone says
Or if upon introspection
We might be even worse
How do I sever these ties
Knowing that love is not enough
To save a sinking ship.
 Sep 2018 Krysel Anson
Aslam M
I  came out
From my  House
Saw many Doors.
Some were Open
Some were Locked
Some were Small
Some were Large
Sone were Broad
Some were Narrow.
Some were Inviting
Some were Repulsive.
It was very cold out there
Had to go somewhere.
Knocked on some
Welcomed by some
Thrown out by some
Came back to my own
Back to where I belonged.
After years of aimless wanderings
Leaving behind the cities of midnight revels
And the fevered journey in metro rails,
I am back at the land of my people.

Wherever I went,
Under which ever roof I slept,
I had carried my land,
As a jewel in a casket
And ensured it rested safe
Ever under my pillow

As I moved with aliens
Unable to merge with their cultural mores,
I saw my land glimmer in darkness
Like a dew drop on a moon blanched leaf

When I sweated in the blistering sands
A patch of green landscape, like an oasis
Wafted me in a cool embrace
Then dreams poured in like star light
And I wandered in the meadows of my youthful love
My heart struggling to forget old longings
And memories lashing upon me like tidal waves

Pursued by that inalienable shadow
Suddenly being born in flesh and blood
I hastened to the streets of my youth
With hopes galore and plans vivid

But alas! There is none to recognize me
Oh! I am a stranger here
An unwelcome stranger among total strangers
Now I wonder which is truly my land?
The one left behind or the one just landed in?

Oscillating between these two worlds,
My fractured identity looms large
With worms of memories wriggling in my flesh
And a myth suddenly dying in my brain
I am glad to share with my friends here that this poem- My Fractured Identity- is prescribed for the 10th Grade students-English for Junior High School- entitled Voyagers, in the country of Philippines. The exciting thing is that my poem appears among the writings of eminent men like James Joyce, Rudyard Kipling, Shelley, Virginia Woolf, Jules Verne, Jean Jacques Rousseau and the like. I feel it a great honor !!
 Sep 2018 Krysel Anson
Traveler
Sifted through those old writings
Left alone upon your page
You were but a starlight
In limelight
A magical, musical mage

Cobwebs of memories
Now hanging in the dark
Black widows of emptiness
Slowly devour
My weary heart

Oh how I miss you
Sweet shadow of words
Dreamer of dreams
Daughter of earth
You were like no other
Fresh quickening wind
We shall meet in ever
When ever we can
....
Traveler Tim
Miss you Sofia!
Bud of the winter dew on lips grow,
Snowy boughs surrounding began to unfold,
'Spring it shall flower' you must travel along, to see
When she will flower and in her very first glance,
Shall innovate the ether lapis-lazuli sky,
And the glamorous sun in her luminous dews,
She will cast her gaze towards the infinity,
And the veiled spring-night of tender full-moon,
With millions of star thriving, will be reflected upon;
She will whisper to the sleeping morning breeze,
And that will wake dancing the primrose's aroma,
Smoothly waving over the green meadows!

Who will let it be freely, purely, organic!
In whose innovate warm touch shall dissolve,
Poor winter's covering upon the earth,
Hence, once again green earth shall cast,
A glance to its vernal zenana,
Beneath the sunny sky wherein the air,
Shall sniff the aroma of the radiant rose,
And the birds shall tour around,
Singing the song of freedom!

Endure, yet she is beyond the gaze of the sky!
Now a season poor as she has flown away,
Gone to address the assembly of the Angels!
Therefore, accepting an invitation from the fairies,
To have a bath in their lotus-pool, prior to flight.
Hence, delighted fairies all flew to the palace,
To give the news to Queen Mab!

And soon a while after they return,
Around the pool, they greeted and sang,
The spring while she steps into the pool,
They sing and dance, hail the spring:

'The troublesome thorn mingled into itself,
The long ugly arm has collapsed pieces itself,
And the beauty has broken through!
Behold! The shining sun under her shadow!
The beauty by her grace fathomless,
Gorgeous she looks, rosy winsome!
Make all dance her awakening fragrance,
Tenderness she breaths, and caresses the bliss,
With a heart of endless love,
Vivifies the file, pleasant, dynamic!'

Meanwhile, the maid of honour came with the news,
They wanted to hear 'the Houris too shall join them.'
Yet they are flowering themselves alike as they gaze,
Upon the adoring scene of divine, winsome, paragon, fashions,
Impressionist hairs of the Queen of Paradise!
Where lay upon the Throne, and youthful streams,
Flowing, surrounded by, and canopied by the sky
Of glory garnished by the millions of the divine artisans!
There the sun care greatest and offers harvest lights,
And now, she comes to the streams, she shall swim.
Therein the never fading water-lily will please her sight,
She will listen to the divine birds of joyfulness,
Singing the songs of the blissful souls,
In the name of the all praiseworthy,
The perpetual Creator, Allah.
As she will innovate the songs,
And the innovative image of the eternal creations,
Will be bestowed upon the spring and all the houris,
Shall greet the spring as they will pour
Flowery rain over the fairies' pool!

Listen, the angels sing 'Lo, the spring, '
Again and again, as she dives into the fairie's pool,
And dips out up to the earth! See for yourself:
As youthful as ever with the sun shining on her forehead
And the day on her flowers, with her the earth is radiant
Her soil is perfumed, she belongs to paradise!
Ambling in a full-moon night
let alone the Moon
I only asked for a star.
Because I wanted
to be in tune
with the half-lit sky.
But none did stop by me
not even the little firefly.

Oh, from nowhere but
from the colour black
off it's sea of different shades
the night pops out.
While the Moon indeed
was painting in the dark.

Though every star
kept an wide-open eye.
But no one wanted to tell where
did the night scurry away
before the very blink
of the waxing Moon's eyes!
In Japan there is an art form
called kintsukuroi which means
to repair with gold
When a ceramic *** or bowls
would break the artisan would
put the pieces together again
using gold or silver lacquer
to create something stronger
forevermore beautiful than before
The breaking is never something
to hide
It doesn’t mean that the work of the art
is ruined or without value because
it is different than what anticipated
Kintsukuroi is a way of living that
embraces every flaw and imperfections
Every crack is part of the  history of
the object and it becomes forevermore
beautiful
precisely because it has been
broken
I’ve told this story to tell you this
People are the same way
Being hurt or heart broken
or feeling broken generally
is not who you are
It is something that happens to you
Rise up stand proud and move forward
Stop looking about what the world says
about you and who you are
The value of your worth is more
than you can ever conceive
and when you trust
in your heart you’ll understand
the Power you house within
Cracks and all your true value
can never be lost in translation
Know the value of your worth, you worth more than gold... made to an exact specification!
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