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‘I love you, sweet: how can you ever learn
How much I love you?’ ‘You I love even so,
And so I learn it.’ ‘Sweet, you cannot know
How fair you are.’ ‘If fair enough to earn
Your love, so much is all my love’s concern.’
‘My love grows hourly, sweet.’ ‘ Mine too doth grow,
Yet love seemed full so many hours ago!’
Thus lovers speak, till kisses claim their turn.

Ah! happy they to whom such words as these
In youth have served for speech the whole day long,
Hour after hour, remote from the world’s throng,
Work, contest, fame, all life’s confederate pleas,—
What while Love breathed in sighs and silences
Through two blent souls one rapturous undersong.
It’s addiction
It’s necessity
It’s the reason I won’t give up.

Everything makes sense
On stage
Or inside a circle.
I live in a state of “when”
Not “if”
When I make it
When I’m independent
There is no room for failure
I won’t allow it
Won’t have it.
I’ll keep going until I’m on top
My future is non-stop.

It’s the only thing I’m driven to
It makes me see through
The anxiety
The frustration
The lack of clarity.
It’s all that makes sense.
I spent my life dreaming
Now it’s time to start doing.
No more listening to my blood
They convince me I can’t
But all I know is the urge inside
This thirst I can't ignore
To go for it
To take a chance
To create.
To tell stories with my words
My body
And my heart.

It’s addiction
It’s necessity
It’s what I’m working for.
I was inspired to write this after filming an impromptu hoop dance sequence for my Instagram. It made me remember why I love dance and performing in general and I just had to put it into words because I'm in a place in my life where I can no longer ignore my passions or the fact that performing and writing are the only things I have any drive to do.
Long have I longed, till I am tired
    Of longing and desire;
Farewell my points in vain desired,
        My dying fire;
Farewell all things that die and fail and tire.

Springtide and youth and useless pleasure
    And all my useless scheming,
My hopes of unattainable treasure,
        Dreams not worth dreaming,
Glow-worms that gleam but yield no warmth in gleaming,

Farewell all shows that fade in showing:
    My wish and joy stand over
Until to-morrow; Heaven is glowing
        Through cloudy cover,
Beyond all clouds loves me my Heavenly Lover.
 Mar 2016 Silvana Franco
Laurent
Year after year
purity of fire
is challenged by evil,
appeased with offerings

A full moon looks on
as winds stoke embers,
flare flames
to a flickering dance

Right in the center
of crimson blaze
sits Holika,
Prahlad in her lap -
her arms a circle of heat

White sparks fly from her hair,
eyes smolder in fury;
her mouth ***** in air,
engulfs rice and wheat

Wood chars,
coconuts splinter,
flowers singe
smearing earth with ash.

Year after year
faith survives.
Holika burns to death.

By Unknown
Holika Dahan also Kamudu pyre is celebrated by burning Holika, the devil. For many traditions in Hinduism, Holi celebrates the death of Holika in order to save Prahlad, and thus Holi gets its name. In olden days, people use to contribute a piece of wood or two for Holika bonfire.
On the eve of Holi, typically at or after sunset, the pyre is lit, signifying Holika Dahan. The ritual symbolises the victory of good over evil. People sing and dance around the fire. People also perform parikrama of fire.
In spite of being such a colourful festival, there are various aspects of Holi which makes it so significant for our lives. Though they might not be so apparent but a closer look and a little thought will reveal the significance of Holi in more ways than meets the eyes. Ranging from socio-cultural, religious to biological there is every reason why we must heartily enjoy the festival and cherish the reasons for its celebrations.
So when, its time for Holi, please don't hold yourself back and enjoy
The next day people play Holi, the popular festival of colors.
In India, Holika dahan will be on 23rd march 2016: 18:30 to 20:53, Duration = 2 Hours 22 Mins
Have you ever
Mixed memories
With what you wished
They could be,
Creating a fictional
Reality
Blended together
Like bitters and whiskey
Vermouth and a cherry,
The Manhattan of your dreams.
 Mar 2016 Silvana Franco
Day
Let him in
Want him out
Don't know the words to say
All alone
Not by myself
The darkness came to play.
Hear my cry
On deaf ears fall
The pain is here to stay.
It's late.
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