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The bakula and the madhumalti
Sway in the warm wind
Watching children play
In stained shirts
With mud-filled nails
Bare feet and beady drops of laughter
Unmindful of the heat
While a dog playfully rolls over
Trying to catch the sunlight
That falls through the trees

A white-eye flies low,
resting on the firangipani tree
Butterflies dance around the hibiscus
And bees swarm
Hedges have blossomed with flowers

And the mynah calls from outside—
To awaken the forgotten child in an older heart
And tell her that summer reigns
When they fly back to northern shores,
assemble on the moonlit ice,
after long months of paradise
and call out to the darkening east:

the April Moon is for the Geese
Sugar is harmfully addictive
but imagine going without.
A taste of bittersweet chocolate melting in your mouth.
But look a little deeper processed in your bread, hidden sugars in every box and bottle that you’re fed.
Mailodextrin the silver bullet of death, they sprinkle it on your potato chips and they hide it in your dips! Processed and re-processed till the sugar has been refined, many American eats 3 pounds of sugar a week and of that fact they’re blind.
Insulin levels suffer as the diabetics take their dope, another box of ice cream, another cherry Coke.

Pharmaceutical, healthcare and insurance profiting..
A sudden stop by McDonald’s on the way to Burger King.
Traveler 🧳 Tim
Wrote this eons ago, tonight, once more,
spend some human capital, editing...
Something to think about
as we tuck ourselves in.

the young'uns keep on asking me for tips,
secrets, to this art, magical poetry gig,
as if I had any left unrevealed.  

recalled this old'n,
from a vintage poetry year,
as a suggestion,
a stating-starting place,
for young poets:

do not self-chain,
let the words take you where
they lead, write them up
for the rhyme is waiting,
in the heart chest deep down,
not on the screen.

I read you Goodnight Moon,
Falling asleep beside you.


<•>

People stop rhyming...

When first you overcome your fears,
And dare to put on paper your tears,
Give it up, set yourself free from the shackles,
Of thinking a rhyme is a necessity for a
Rooting tooting writing of a
**** good poem

If you feel lost,
Want to share the cost,
Feel not bossed,
By a newbie's need
to believe that if it rhymes
Everyone will like your poem
Just fine

And if you get past this stage,
And advance to the next page,
Do not think that writing down a sentence of
Your mind's first up, innermost thoughts,
Is something that will make you
Less lost, heralded, worthy of a parade,
And be blessed with an A  
In your Teacher's pet grade book

My heart broke.
I feel bad.
I feel sad
Cause my man/woman left me
And I hope
Someone kicks his or her ***

That Ain't No Poem Neither...

And if you can't help but complain repeatedly
How life ***** and you're feeling blue
extremely indiscreetly,
Don't make me try on your scribblings
intimately indiscriminately,
Read a million, even wrote a few myself

You think you can write?

Then employ a word outside your comfort zone,
Go it alone,
Write just four sentences that will make
The hopeful reader stand up and you,
Twice as much, and shout

Hallelujah *******.

Work. Poetry is work. Hard work.
Don't fret. But, think on it.
Let it come easy, then let it rest,.
Then spend days editing every comma,
And when you love it so much,
You are chest busting bursting,
Why have you not pressed Send already?

Have the sweetest dreams.
In the morning, when you but awake,
A poem will be aborning in thy mind,
And dare I say it, you will find a new freedom
In free verse.
(I know you will slip in a rhyme or two,
I can't help but do it too)

G' nite!
Why is that parents plant ideas in your brain as you're falling aslee..............

Just a suggestion....what do I know,
Glass divides us

Forever in pane

This reflection
looking back at me
is shaped like
the blinking vast mosaics
in reverse of you

Once removed

Twice over lightly

The shallow end
of an image immersed
less than we

Yet at an unfathomable depth

Breathing through
what love remained

Before those pretty
little pieces
should be taken by the wind
The sea is still today
It's cerulean blue and gold
I think of the thoughts it carries
Within its hidden folds.
Its touch is soft and gentle
It soothes the ache of years
But I wonder how many waves
Are made from fallen tears.
Dear everyone,

This is such a surprise! Thank you all for your likes, loves and responses. I have not been very active on Hello Poetry, but will get back in action soon. So much appreciated. Thank you Hello Poetry for selecting this as a daily. Thank you so much my friends and fellow poets for taking the time to read this poem of mine. It means the world to me.  Love to everyone **
A common thread our swanky prance
Obdurate circles while we dance
Harmonious we'd make romance
And for each other we'd enhance
With eloquent and wanton stance
While willingly we take the chance
To reach across unknown expanse
And though akimbo not askance
We flaunt unfettered by durance
While at each other we would glance
As if enraptured by a trance
If you never leave home
You never get to go home.

If you never leave the bed
You never get to go to bed.

When our expectations are in line with reality, there is no disappointment.

There is no such thing as rejection
There is only preference.

We can not be defined
People can only offer feedback.

What to do, when there's nothing else to do.

If you stand still long enough
Somethings bound to eat you.

Need creates attraction.

One true fact, the present is just the past

Focus on being the person you want to be
Rather than focusing on the person you want them to be.

First there is this
Than there is nothing.
Today, I am gardening my life,
I'll root out  worrisome weeds,
Those thoughts that trouble me,
Cast them aside, those I'd never need.

I'll cut the grass of discontent,
Layer it even, soft, green and sweet,
Smoothen  the furrows,
So I can run content, bare feet.

I'll water seeds planted with love,
Of friends made this year,
Friendships that bloomed,
That make life special, worth living and dear.

I'll welcome butterflies,
And make homes for nesting birds,
With them, taste sun's ambrosia,
Soar and see the world.

I'll bask in the rainbow of colors,
Of blossoms brilliant and bright,
And keep them sheltered,
When they sleep at night.

I'll capture the scented essence,
Of roses, jasmines and lilies
Place them in a jar —
As fragrant memories.

I'll love, rest and spend more time,
Under the shade of the family tree,
Cherish every moment, every minute,
Beneath its precious canopy.

And I'll buy new saplings,
Sow them all carefully in a row,
Of hopes, promises to me and mine,
And tend to them, make them grow.
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