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One midnight, let this car broke down.
Let the lines of ordinary fade away,
For we would troll in the unpredictable lands,
Where the stars rises in the day.
We shall drink in the coconut shells,
That lingering taste of the wild starch,
The possibility of a new choice,
To never worry about the daily march.
One chance is all we get,
To hop in this adventure and never look back,
One reason is all we need,
To see life in the wildest of ways,
One glory is all we share,
To think back at our old golden days.
 Dec 2015 Medhina Khanal
Sarah Oh
As the world comes crashing down on your face
I'll be here to give you a warm embrace
That's where you'll find me
You won't have to chase
Clear Skies Vanilla
is the only soft serve
on the days we have no clouds
and none can be seen
floating on our horizons

it is our seasonal choice
that we wish could come
all year long,
could be as predictable
as *Pumpkin Spice
in October
or Eggnog in December
even uncelebrated Baseball-Nut
springs up at the right time.

If only our skies could
be the layers of a sundae--
a limited selection
that always comes down to
hot fudge, nuts,
with a defrosted cherry on top--
then our decisions
would be made for us
we could never
be wrong.

Instead we deliver
Icy Thundery Blueberry BubbleGumy hard serve
on those days--
too complicated to understand
too unwilling to shorten their title
too difficult to be simply BlueGumTuesday
because the sky,
too mixed up to be...Blue.

We raise our scoop
for each serving to dish out--
with them we learn our taste
what calms our nerves
and how to evaporate the rain,
because when we get
to have those cloudless days
we'll have the day
to be flavorful.
Happiness? Effort? Purpose?
Amazing how opinions
Suddenly become facts
When the court becomes a minefield
And no one ever backtracks
They just keep on marching forward
Stomping all over the sanity
Of those who have no hope of any reward
For keeping a check on their  own vanity
They don't scream it from the rooftops
They pace themselves like a funeral dirge
Slow and steady till everyone's ready
For the real persona to emerge

Hyperdrive.... man alive
Where the hell did that come from
It was hiding in the darkend corner
Waiting for the time to be right
To emerge upon the senses of those around
Who absolutely positively haven't got a clue
That imagination is not ...just
An abstract situation
Where part timers can go to feel
Some sense of satisfaction

It's a full time job
Where the verbal grenades that you lob
May make a point or get a laugh
Or blow up in your face
But if there is dedication
To the value that you accepted
As a reward
For your part and expanding the mundane
From small talk and small thinking to....
Revelations and education and new paths
To be explored
Where the minefields have become diffused
And reality has become... so confused
By an opinion that has suddenly become
Chiseled into stone
Where you and you alone
Know the combination to
The lock........ You possess
To a strong box
Full of small talk and small thinking
That you are always finding is impossible
Impossible....impossible.....
IMPOSSIBLE.....
   ............TO  DISPOSSESS
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