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 Jan 2016 Kuzhur Wilson
There you are – all of you
Standing at attention
Ready for an inspection.
Are your jackets clean, dust free?
But I see a speck here and a little there.

Does History precede Fiction (or Is History made of Fiction)?
Does Poetry weigh the same as Narrative?
Biography and Comics?

Philosophy beckons with a cynical smile – To be or…
Languages jostle for priority
Religion advises “Let It Be”

All these are mere ripples.
For Emily and Elizabeth stand silent
Within they are the stormy sisters.
Richard and Bill nod in agreement.
Howard and Sylvia know it’s definitely zoo time
Not a Lazarus back from the grave.

Tony and Eric are composed
For they celebrate uncommon people.
Sophie, not to be left out, asserts it’s her world.

But Anne, dear Anne, cries
“Let me out, where there’s fresh air and laughter.”

Time, that little winged bird, flies with me by its side
In hand with my treasures,my sumptuous feast of words.
One of the most beautiful thing
I have ever seen
Is in your eyes
 Dec 2015 Kuzhur Wilson
My Mom
 Dec 2015 Kuzhur Wilson
     *(              |                      •    ||    )
   (   •|               |                )
(          |||     •  |  )
\   |        |   //
\ || •   | //
•       ••     ••
•like clockwork,
  her day would begin
•pressures of life like no
one could imagine•toting the
crushing weight upon her tiny shou-
lders•responsibilities and expectations that
would overwhelm before she falters•she'd ***-
ble as she groans her duress•her skin would crack
to release pent up stress•then there would come a day
•her exhausted veins would rupture and then give way
•she has the most terrible temper•but we would still flock
to her•
why?*........when time and again she offers us strife•

simply because she provides,
she gives us life•
Concrete Poem 12 of 30

Tap on the hashtag "30daysofconcrete" below to view more offerings in the series. :)
 Jun 2015 Kuzhur Wilson
I am a receiver
A born unbeliever
Truth seeker
Story speaker
Pain reliever
The giver
The writer
The new right
To lifer
Poet of the people
And dreamer
I may not have the wealth,
The fame,  or the power

I may not have the gold,
The bronze, or silver

I may not have the beauty-
Of the  body, or of the face

I may not be the best-
Woman,  citizen or race

I may not see what they can
Or make loud noise like their laugh

I may not have this world
But having your love  is enough.
I love you.
 Jan 2015 Kuzhur Wilson
 Jan 2015 Kuzhur Wilson
I'll never stop
              Loving her
                                   Drives me mad
 Jan 2015 Kuzhur Wilson
somersaulting through the night
landing face first
into a bed smelling of love
finding you there
filled with acrobatic amusement
   and i am airborne
   once again.
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