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 Jan 2015 Sharina Saad
Noxx
I've spent years at loves door

With bloodied knuckles I begged

Each time I knock she'd just

bang the door harder.

Imagine my surprise

When it finally opens

And I see you on the other side

Knuckles Bloodied.
Im just so glad I found you.
 Jan 2015 Sharina Saad
Sombro
'She ain't much of a muse.'

What can I say for you that
Has not already been lied?
Your eyes do not sparkle,
Your smile has long since died.
Your eyebrows are
Painted to be quizzical.
Nice try, but,
I don't think you're listening.

I'll give you a joke, but
You're twice as sarcastic
Your wooden skin covers
A brain made of plastic
I come along to watch and
You come along to see.
Nice try, but
I don't think your eyes make the effort.

I ask you what New Year's means
To you and your future.
You shrug and say,
'I'm sure it will be boring.'

You ain't much of a muse.
Another kind of person met on another kind of day.
Anger, is the steaming red on her face
refusal creates in an instance;
jealousy is foaming green
profusion of colors in motion
takes this dance for them to upward
and downward turns,
or a sudden dissolution---
an intense ****** in unison.
Even in darkness he  can see the
spasmodic ebbing waves
sleep is the banana plantation
where night wears translucent green
"nobody would see us here"
she whispers in his ears,
as if they are thieving ***,eyeing
the yellow banana she likes, to play with

Purple is the psychedelic color
smeared on horizon when
dreams repeatedly fly down
like night bats and happen
the way mind designs
we don't want to leave the scene
of the dream even when we know well
that the show for us is now over
we just want to hang around
like the dog,  in the place
it  got a juicy bone.

Yellow is the banana song
that's heard as wave after wave,
by the blind bat squadron
that roams with raw aggression,
for raids above the plantations
Unripe bananas show green fingers
to say "NO! we aren't ripe"
like coy underage virgins.

Then, they ripen, go yellow
some even bright red, inviting
who is blue here is the sky
and those bats who got
the bananas still raw green

Night decents on the banana land
as the white umbrella of sun
is snatched by the dark maiden.
Black is the bat's wing extending
and folding like lust, umbrella and the like.

He finds her shivering fingers like a serpent,
on the banana trunk slithering down,
as he dreams bats, banana, blue sky
and she slithering over him.
Sensuality connects, colors, assorted things  and places that become symbols for experiences , ***, lust ...
When the sun goes down
Your love dawns on me
Much brighter than the sun
Warmth embraces me
Your touch sparks the flame
And burns all night
In the soft glow
Warm touch creates magic
Our touch
Will be etched in the memory
Engraved in the heart
Shall be the passionate story
Your intense look
Thaws the frozen lake
It’s time we take a dip
Depths, where we find ourselves
Swimming with fervor
Moon bathes us with its rays
Smooth criminals on the prowl
Handcuffed with fate
No escaping now
 Jan 2015 Sharina Saad
ajit peter
The year hath begun
Storms may rage
hearts may break
disasters bringeth pain

yet love to prevail
happiness be a song
Doors doth open
pain doth ease

tis a life lived once
a journey to share
a heart to beat
a hope to live
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