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Lazy dreams of far away night
Amorous embraces by candle light
Tango desires of bodies of two
For I am nothing without you

Memories fade of the past
We believed it would last
But now, what can I do
For I am nothing without you

Lovers come and lovers go
You're the one I got to know
All the good times we went through
Now I am nothing without you
Copyright © Chris Smith 2015
Scream, for love traps you
In the embrace of barbed wire
Slicing your heart wide open
With blunt, rusted razor blades

So bleed the scarlet icicles
As your soul begins to die
Dark longing surrounds you
Loneliness comes crawling

Does your heart now shatter?
Where no one dares to look
To see blistered tears Etched
On a face masked with fear

But if only you remove your mask
Mayhap the Sun may kiss it
So roses without thorns may grow
Then love could have no pain
Copyright © Chris Smith 2014
 May 2016 sucheta
A bored Poet
A treasure chest locked away
Whose key nobody knows
Many have searched and tried
But no one has ever triumphed

A secret hidden within
That even the worst gossipers cannot reveal
Not even the best observers can identify
Or even smartest people can unlock

Solve me please
Begs the chest
But be prepared
For things are unexpected

Answers become questions
And questions become answers
Hints become facts
and facts become hints

I do warn you though,
For the perils that lie ahead
Are confusing as ever
And dangerous nonetheless

But sadly I remain locked
And loneliness was my only friend
For no one could solve my lock
Nor anyone could find it
You know you've been away for long when returning feels wrong
when the rough road you left's a beautiful tarmac
and the roadside lantana Kamara's someone's bed of lilacs
you know it's been ages when you feel nostalgia turning pages
when each bend you negotiate brings tears to your eyes
for the skyline's too storied to have a view of the ranges
so that in disappointment you take deep breaths and sighs
you know an eternity has gone by since you set foot there
when the hugs are a doubt for you wonder if folks still care
when the cute little puppy you left is a scabby old *****
and all you can see are graves at the stead to the alleged old witch
you realise time's past when every view matters
so much so that you open your teary eyes without a twitch
when the grass thatched homesteads are tatters
next to mansions trapped betwixt the so called rich
you tell the beautiful generation's gone when you ain't on foot
when soon as you set foot of what was such a lively place
tears of despondence cascade down your alien face
when you don't know where those who survived relocated
but can at least see tombstones in the distance suffocated
by growing bushes, you try to get close but every plant scratches
and you want a closer look much as every **** itches
you know it's been eons when many gather like a scene of crime
for they don't understand you're mourning for lost time
for those who visited the great beyond in your absence
young and the old attempting to speak English, renaissance
you know it's been a while for unlike the days of the old
only the youth show earnest concern, for they're the bold
they who'll try to explain for the elderly the stranger you're
for them old to realise you're one of their own back from a far
you know you've been away for so long when what was a domicile
is just a piece that couldn't be valued due to many a grave
the revelations hurt yet are given in bits for none's that brave
none's brave enough to relay your family's demise in chronology
and luckily someone has a number you can call thanks to technology,
your youngest sister, left a crying baby now married
realising it's you her feelings are an oxymoron
for she obviously sounds nonchalantly worried
and out of words cause you left her nothing but your stolen crayon
you know you've been away for so long when the moment
you so much prayed for turns into a biting torment
for soon as you walk out your car you become a shoulder to cry on
implying that so much has happened while you were away
yet you're too weakened by changes to keep at bay
where are the rest? you can't help but wonder
how a single decade could mean so much plunder
you know you've been away for so long when you have a novel of sorrow
one which reading could consume more than a tomorrow
when you realise you went to the wrong place or right
for you realise you're on your own childhood bed in the night
the then soft spots feeling so hard while you twist and turn
reminding you of the life you've endured whence you couldn't run
you know you've been  away for a while when you can hardly sleep
but you have room to contemplate the gone decade
laugh, wonder, remember but mostly weep
when you wish you had listened when they said
Arabian money wasn't the picture they painted
you know you've been absent when you wish you could rewind
to erase all those grotesque things they made you do
when you want to move the world back to the unwounded you
the one who wasn't sexually abused and ******* tainted
to save you the excruciating and ugly details
you only realise when deafening's the sound of hails
when you loathe rather than treasure the rain
because all it does is remind you of your pain
when you can't stop for yourself feeling sorry
wishing to speak out to the rest yet too ashamed to tell your story
 May 2016 sucheta
Stephen E Yocum
From youth, not unlike the love
I received from my family, I surmised,
that extended love might be everywhere.
With artless, open arms and heart,
I embraced this simple notion.
In time, sadly this childish wish
was honed to a hard truth by maturation.

Friends and loves come
and go, fleeting in heart,
and committed soul.
Unreliably, flowing in and ebbing out,
like deep undulations of an ocean,
all too often with sneaker waves
that pull us under. Breakers pushing
our ship onto the rocks, in a sea
of shallow unfulfilled expectations.
Encounters becoming disappointment,
with too many frogs kissed.

My educated suspicion is,
beyond our family of blood kin,
Faithful canine love is the only
other "truly committed devotion"
we are likely to get.

In the end, that may well be enough.
Perspective wisdom can be a bitter lesson.
 May 2016 sucheta
Ma Cherie
Morning comes with fear tow...
with what light bears to all unknown.

Had last night forboding dreams...
Hear the water of trickling streams.

  This calls away the night concerns...
to what there is this day to learn.

What riddles does this day in store...
soon thoughts of life return once more.

To hear the distant spring Birds song..
and dawns that bird- been gone quite long..
with the croaking frogs down by pond...

Now back at home where they belong...
these Sounds the Farm's been waiting on.

So smiling in her stoic way-
Now looking forward to this day..
it's time to shelve her timid thoughts- instead sets mind to things she ought

Put on boots this early morn'- as Mother's calf just newly born.
A baby sprung-  internal nest..
now lays down beside his Mother's chest.

Life on Farm starts out Anew with thoughts of hope and joy imbued.   

            All Rights Reserved * 2016 Cherie Nolan
Changed format... Thanks everyone!!! truly inspired somehow when writing this. Thanks to all who take the time to read any of my work for time is the only truly valuable thing in life.
 May 2016 sucheta
Banita khanal
If you are always gloomy when everything looks normal
If you are in dilemma what is right and what is wrong
If you are not able to decide which way to go
If you have been thinking of that freedom you want,

Then remember it’s not always poor to be unhappy
Many enlightened masters have felt this usually
Thus they chose their own path to find out the reason
And finally they were there with their principles, when they finished their path
Their path towards enlightenment,

Don’t be upset when you see others happy and you couldn’t make
Remember that they are following those principles provided
And you have rather chose your own path

Your own path towards your enlightenment
If you follow Buddha, you probably become another Buddha, but if you follow your own path, you might become someone above Buddha
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