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 Feb 2015 memineI
wordvango
Bury me
 Feb 2015 memineI
wordvango
with the garbage
burn me with refuse
I have no sanctity
Pyres are not necessary
nor crying
forsake all I was
if you never gave me flowers
while I lived.
 Feb 2015 memineI
wordvango
One last hit my pride gone
with a serotonin wind
and need is the unforgiving thing
I never see the life I live
continuously fall down and beg
be cause of  I glow in hope or effervesce insanity
renowned for neglecting reality
so what is I say
with luxury in a needle or pipe
is the wish I wished for?
 Feb 2015 memineI
wordvango
vagrant in black corners creep
complaining with darkest meaning
remembering the border  of commonness
or forgetting

she spins does life
the web we get so caught up in
wove into corners and kept for another day

complex as dark yes
no a minute to think
the spinnerets go on weaving

complex webs
 Feb 2015 memineI
wordvango
may be right, he he
need does push one in a way and food stamps
    and medicaid teach us to be lazy
they say sink or swim and the cream will float to the top
       when all gotta eat I SAY
if mine  if anyone I know is going hungry
                    I will steal for them.
Let economics reign. Demand and supply
are but a graph.
 Feb 2015 memineI
wordvango
mirror
 Feb 2015 memineI
wordvango
smiling in a mirror I see
an elephant in the room\a deserted island .

there are mountains precipices above about me
dangerous

surroundings if I give up
and dark valleys filled with enemies

knowledge is no armory when fitted for a battle of strength
'tis general \

or survival that brings an animal above to see
here
in reality
I am the one

alone so natural like mammal lust and human greed
in all the caves I seek

hiding

away from

rationing my sanity if I did not see a grander destiny
for me
for us.
some more wooden plank
it would be whole
bridge the two riverbank
reach its goal!

the creek is narrow tho
high swells tide
dreams do freely grow
on the both side!

the short span looks far
but a few poles
the boy can reach to her
tie the two souls!

some more wooden plank
when finished then
mingle two riverbank
when I come again!
inspiration: my cover photo
 Feb 2015 memineI
Jamie King
If this prison of a heart could ever be unlocked she would be the key.
She's purest of joy I've ever known, 
The goddess of love.
cupids dance at the edges of her heart, allergic to lies honesty is her pride.
Suffocated by ropes of sorrows, she untied them and climb to lands of joy.
Her smile awakens the smell of roses, an inspiration for poets to compose with sincerity.
She's clearity in fogs of uncertainty.
If I am to be a pirate then She's the only treasure I'd ever need.
Enticing,alluring, comely, angelic serein and mesmeric lady

She's a lover, the light in the dark, a kind gentle heart I cannot touch.
urges surging feelings emerging,
I am conflicted I know not of love while she is core of it.
I see her everywhere but nowhere so
I search.. I long.. and I yearn..
for her but she is far from my reach I can only hope that our hearts are in synch.
When I wrote this I was thinking about her and nothing else love consume us all but is this love?
 Feb 2015 memineI
Amitav Radiance
A poet thinks beyond
Walking along that
Extra mile
We pervade through
Boundaries
Beyond the realms of
Known
Imaginary it may seem
Every word
Carries the truth
Thoughts seeded
In the fertile minds
To sprout
Into exotic flowers
Alluring aromas
Mesmerizes the soul
We exist
Between the words
Filling the spaces
Between the lines
With our imagination
 Feb 2015 memineI
D W
CECILIA
 Feb 2015 memineI
D W
She woke up helpless and had no clue,
-What time it was- or what to vainly do,
She could never see, but hear their steps,
Chime in that vacant dark hall,

She wanted to speak it loud, to scream,
She couldn't wait seekinga  light beam,
She wanted to know any whereabouts,
She wanted to **** all wonders and doubts,
'' Where am I?" said she.

She knew everything but what was happening,
She knew everything, but all was vaguely dark,
This **** food she shared with a rat,
Which, she ironically named and jack,

Jack, he, who happens to be full of romance,
He, who happens to be a charming prince,
He, who happens to come on a white horse,
Recklessly swinging his sword cutting their heads,
He who used to passionately kiss her lips,
Making her heart melt within a glimpse,
He who happens to be a lover never seen again,
They took her soul when taking him away,
She was a mere corpse, already dead.

Suddenly,
the door of the cell was slammed in a burst,
Voilently opened erupting the floor's dust,
They were there, executioners and a grumpy priest,
Light has made her blind, that beam of light,
Which she has always  eagerly sought,
She went blind, for a while, until she reached the mighty blade of the guillotine.*

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