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 Sep 2010 Mona
erin haggerty
illusions, confusions
they all seem true
when i think of the past
i think about you
into the deep end
its natural but it'sblue
i wonder and i wander
its complicated but it's you
in times and scenes
its seems and its real
its hard to accept
but anything can feel
abyss and release
interpret
conceal
confiscate the obvious
retaliate and deal
my hands are old
my conscience isn't clear
manuscripts and confidence
the truth can never
steal
will it ever be
the questions in my mind
marriage and soul commitment
are really hard to find.
erin haggerty
 Sep 2010 Mona
MMV Abad
Love is a game
We lose, we gain
Real lovers gamble
They hope, not tremble
I am a risk taker
Gambler, his true lover
I gave him my soul
My heart offered in whole
I was told I’m a fool
To give my love in full
But that is love, isn’t not?
To give it all without a thought
For in time of trial
There will be no denial
No wondering, no regret
Given it all, he won’t forget.
Copyright *MMV Abad @ September 9, 2008
 Aug 2010 Mona
Robert Frost
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
 Aug 2010 Mona
A Thomas Hawkins
I see you there,
yet I can't speak.
Cos to look in your eyes,
just makes me weak.
My tongue gets so tied,
and the words disappear,
the ones that I want,
to whisper in your ear.
The ones that would tell you,
just how I feel,
not the ones I make up,
but the ones that are real.
And yet when I see you,
I turn walk away.
So you have no idea,
I'm too frightened to say,
that you're all I think of,
and how I fantasize,
that one day you'll sit there,
and look in my eyes.
And holding my hand,
you'll make me feel strong,
and give me the courage,
to know right from wrong.
All the doubts in myself,
that are holding me back,
the feelings of inad-
aquecy and lack.

On the bus on the way home,
and sat in the park.
I dream of a meeting,
with you and a spark,
that goes off between us,
and you feel it too.
It would certainly make this,
easier to do.

But the chances of that,
are incredibly low.
To meet you,
I dont even know where to go.
So I sit on the bench,
in the park and I write.
Dreaming that one day,
one day you just might,
happen to be ,
in a place we can meet.
Maybe here in the park,
or out there on the street.
That I'll have courage to speak,
and together we're drawn.
So we'll talk to each other,
and romance is born.

We'll find a small cafe,
drink coffee and tea.
I'll ask about you,
and you'll ask about me.
And we'll be there all day,
or as long as it takes,
surrounded by teacups,
coffee and cakes.
And time will fly by,
like you wouldn't even know.
and the man at the counter,
will ask us to go.
He's already stayed open,
that little bit late,
but now it's nine thirty,
and he closes at eight.
With a wink of his eye,
says he knows where we are,
at the start of a journey,
he hopes will go far.
So as we walk out together,
into the night,
I look in your eyes,
and ask we might,
continue tomorrow,
this thing that we do.
Where you ask about me,
and I ask about you.
 Aug 2010 Mona
Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
I will feel nothing at all when you die,
Though the leaves will swirl in early Autumn's breath,
Failing to completely cover other now defunct greenery,
It is just nature's way; after all-
And so, I will feel nothing.

I will weep no tears after you are gone;
You didn't want my tears when you were alive,
And dead, would never know that they were for you.
My tears running down your own face, you would never feel-
There is nothing left to feel, for you.

We lived in the world at the same time,
Breathed and trembled and sighed, upon the same galaxy's arms.
Dreamed and fidgeted and awoke each day, to something brand new.
But I had nothing you wanted, and you had nothing to give-
And what I will feel is simply more nothing; nothing when you are dead.
 Aug 2010 Mona
Erica Chen
Nothing really happened in my life,
never a kiss in the rain, a starless night
by the lake, nor a farewell note under
my pillow. Even so, I got paper flowers for
getting out of the way in Valentine's Day.  

I don't know you, but you've never been a Stranger to me.

You weren't him, were you? You don't
know nothing about me, do you? You
don't even care, you don't have to.
But you break into my life anyway, and
keeping a Smile on my face ever since.

How could you know me so well without knowing me for real?

And I wish you were here with me,
Holding sweetly together, you could
kiss my tears aside. Yet there you
are, not knowing anything, eating
your breakfast with my Goodnights.
To a British Sweetheart
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