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once again, point on shore,
with lit-up eyes
and soaked, gold: fresh hope.
grove of oak trees left long behind.
free, out in the open.

the cloudline, roused on
the edge of the darkening blue;
riled up, all in my throat, & i'm
counting down days
like evaporating droplets of mist,

i, the forest,
and accompanying subduction.
If I ever get my feet back on the ground,
I'm going to buy me a bottle and head on in to town.
I'm going to find me a girl that treats me kind,
one that pays some attention to what's on my mind.

Dollars to donuts, we'll feel real good,
anything and everything will go down just as it should.
No more thistles and thorns, no more raging thunderstorms.
No more boot heels on the ground, no more horrendous hissing sound.

We'll bring to the table just what we've got,
we'll spend when we are able and stay home when we're not.
We'll kick up our heels to those Celtic reels,
forgetting how it feels to be scrounging our meals.

Those will be the days that we'll choose to recall,
I know this is a phase and better times will put an end to it all.
Dollars to donuts, these hard times will pass,
dollars to donuts, these hard times won't last.
People only come and go,
So do my transition inspiration sources.

But lest I forget my motive,
Remembering the ultimate aim in life.

Never demeaning it because,
Life Goes On.
My HP Poem #1001
©Atul Kaushal
Thou hast seen my grieving heart
And hast not turned my soul away
But invited me, “Come closer.”
Ever near Thy heart to stay

Thou hast drawn me with Thy goodness
And encircled me with grace
Yea, bestowed such loving-kindness
And revealed to me Thy face
i feel your heat broke,
held back tears choked,
body mould vegetable like an artichoke,
rope burns, red raw, fingerprints imprinted
like an etch a sketch around the throat.
Hoping for forgiveness.
All you got to give is ambivalence to a kaleidoscope,
a spectrum of a sliding scope,
outpost, hides in a gliding cloak.
Invisible to the individuals
that provide the hope,
the inevitable return of the great white dope.

So,
Those fragments of the heart,
are an art piece.
Raw and uncut,
you came unstuck in your cuticles.
Nailing your beautiful mistake,
To a cross shaped like shoulder blades
holding up those younger days,
shades of the shadows past.

Like a puzzle,
someone will find your corners,
and pieces in between,
when it seems all is gone,
the heartbeats faintly.

Not all is lost.
quaintly.
the beep is constant
and,
your heart spoke in rhythm to the promised land.
insides dead,
driftwood emotions,
oceans of regret.
swept under the waves.
Betterdays,
in the horizon.
Hard to find them
in the abyss
of bad habits
that i’ve inhabited.
Agoraphobic,
closed off,
like a treacherous day.
Doors locked,
subdued,
constant moods,
brooding storms in submarines,
under the weather
&
under the sea.
show me the coral reef,
of beautful feelings,
and creatures,
the features of life.
Evade me by day,
and escape me at night.
i can’t fathom the colloquial,
of the same old ****.
i’m down with my nothing,
and i’ll sink with the ship.
 Jan 2016 SeeNhlanhla Moment
ryn
I was once a shape...
Equally jointed,
at four opposite points.

I was a square...
I never knew the way of the world.
Never open to new experiences,
even when they presented themselves bare...
Even when the shrouds of uncertainty
were wiped away leaving the future unfurled.

I grew up...
Huddled under the roof set above me,
with four walls that kept me safe and sheltered.
That was the entire universe.
That was all I saw...
Views so narrow and uneventful...
A life so bland with the fun bits all sheared.

Never brought up to question...
Never given the time and space to think.
There was always a yardstick upon which I was measured.
The sea of expectations was vast but shallow...
So I could wade forever,
but never sink.

I was once a shape...
No one then expected me to be other than a square.
I had everything I needed,
all within the confines of imposing cordons and tapes.
But the world would constantly rap on the windows.
Peddling its fantastical ware.
It would entice with its secrets and mysteries.
Boasting the wonderful stories it'd like to share.
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