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 Mar 2017 P Venugopal
Lina Lotus
If i don't rise in blooming spring
Ring the doorbell of the gone
Cut off every string i have
Please unbind my ghost from earth
Shoot me flowers to the moon
Let me know i lived in you
Let me know i mattered once
***finding my poem on the daily was truly a nice surprise*** Thank you  wonderful poets
 Mar 2017 P Venugopal
gleck
Believer or not, there's always someone or something that stops you.

Others pushing you so you almost push yourself off, but they have no clue.

And you know you can't go to heaven if you cause others grief.

And suicide is only seen as a way out for the weak.

I don't judge those who left this world, they took their fate into their hands.

There are other ways to do it though, they could have made future plans.

But those were determined last steps, hard choices to leave life behind.

Still, instead I hope people continue to express themselves with tears and rhymes.
Today is not the day, my friend
Petals fall, wheels roll
How swift is the flight of time

Lifting the veil of my translucent memory
The past comes alive with a rare fragrance
Don’t you remember the very first time
We saw each other on a Christmas Eve
Amid gazing eyes, we stood embarrassed
As Time, like an unsteady toddler
Crawled away on hands and legs
How we simply stared at each other
Unable to commune our thoughts in lucid words,
Later in the ripe moment,
When we solemnly held our hands
How dazed we were by that electric touch

Memories so green linger my dear
As though it all happened just days ago

With all the fervor of our young hearts
We were pledged to explore life
Youth and hope then walked hand in hand
Warm blood flowed through every capillary and vein
And life glowed in gleams of golden light
We were lifted upon wings of love
From the terrestrial plain unto heaven’s heights

Days flew, months into years fled
Amid gusts of laughter and of tears
How the stairs of life we climbed
Through what labyrinthine paths we traveled
Posing undecided on turns and curves
But holding fast and never loosening our grip
In the ripe season how thoughtfully
Had we sown the seeds of love
Watering them with our saline tears
How excitedly we watched them sprout and grow

Memories so green linger my dear
As though it all happened just days ago

I feel the years have flown too fast
Now life’s fire is almost extinguished
Somber shadows darken our track
The night ahead is darker and colder
We have to accept the in eluctability of it
Doting on the past is now our pleasure
When we look back, we see the thrill of victory
And the tears of defeat and heartbreak
Life presented us with a mixed bag
We have watched the death of spring
We have bore the heat of summer,
Seen the leaves drop in the mellowing autumn
And the chilly shroud of winter is about to veil

Without revolt, let us accept the truth
But till Death do us part, Oh my Love,
Let us hold our hands together
And stoically wait for the final sunset!
A poet with vibrant soul
Eloquence within every word
Departure for Heaven's gate
An eternal rest is his fate

Inspired many such writers
And beloved by many more
Family always close to his heart
A heart larger than it's size
A poet from this site is gone. It seems Mr. Chris Vaillancourt has passed away. Though I never got to speak with him personally, I fell in love with his wonderful works. I'll be glad to see him when I pass from this world and maybe get to know him, then. :)

This is where I found out.
http://poetfreak.com/705083/chris-vaillancourt-rip.html
Stung by an angling fad
He took a fishing rod
And sallied onto the nearby stream
That leaped down a rocky shelf
Forming small cascades
But running down into plain ground
With a placid demure face
Uttering soft murmurs sweet

Aiming at the darting Trout
That made the still waters into spiraling whirls
He swished the rod in the air
With the alacrity of a practiced bowler

Looking at the line sinking low
He waited for the fish to nibble at the bait
Meanwhile, inhaling the salubrious air
And watching the limpid movement of the stream

As the hook line went taut in his grip
Hopefully he pulled it up

But alas! With no ***** to boast!

Patiently sat he there for hours
Like a sculptured God upon a rock
Oh! It requires immense patience
With adroitness to boot
To be an angler, no doubt
That sure is a sedate man’s pursuit!

Angling rarely fetches any major luck
Except now and then a fresh fish upon one’s plate

Yet following one’s heart’s pursuit
Is worth more than all tangible reward it brings!
Thought is a boat
on the oceans of mind.
Waves, the emotions,
flow and ebb of the tide.
Curiosity steers the rudder,
Imagination the sails
billow by winds sigh.
Stars are interlect
for the sextant
there to guide
The elements are senses
influenced by outside.

My boat sails forever
upon this deep blue
drawn by the current
in servitude to you.
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