How do I reconcile
longing and
moderation?

To see something
that I covet
given away so freely,
as if nothing,
is maddening.

Oh, how cruel!
It only matters who,
not how.
In such matters
merit is not determined
by pain.

Alas, I suppose.

The end of an era
The start of
Something new
Hopefully something better
No more curled up in bed
Watching I Love Lucy reruns
Going to the gym
Watching leaves swirl down around whoosh
Winter comes quietly
Ends fierce, like a lion
Fire burns in my chest
As I step into the classroom
Yet another era
Ended
Era, alas, the end has come

At last,
I feel at ease
Alas,
There goes the leash

I am far too young to be bound,
far too old to stay around
Clueless of what there'll be
outside, I might as well feel lonely
I need no freedom
For in this cage,
I am free

And at last,
I feel at ease

The raindrop whispered to the jasmine,
“Keep me in your heart for ever.”
The jasmine sighed, “Alas,” and dropped to the ground.*

(237 Stray Birds by Rabindranath Tagore.  Rabindranath Tagore was born in Calcutta, India, on May 7, 1861. He is the author of many poetry collections, including Gitanjali: Song Offerings (Macmillan, 1913), which received the Nobel Prize in Literature. He died on August 7, 1941.)

<>

Alas

some words of note get overlooked,
their usage to the wayside,
this is life, forever updating its profile

Alas!

none of us, do not lie,
issue this all encompassing sigh,
this shaded heart rendering, un cri du coeur

this, to remind us:

a single warring word,
falls wounded, forgotten,
telling of impossibilities
lost love, a broken conjunction,
what was that can never be,
what never was and yet not impossible
someday

Alas! Alas!

a single word poem,
that answers so many things,
and still in its regretting
is a niche of untold hopeful perhaps

write me a word like that
your fame, if that’s all you desire,
alas,
is assured...

Alas!

He said I had the curliest hair
                        the sweetest smile
                        the warmest eyes and
                        the kindest soul
All was good and well until he said:
No matter how much he tried,
he couldn’t jump the fence around my heart.

Whittle down the memories
And vale of love
Someone who urge me
To Stand tall
With the blink of an eye
All past existence cherishes
My soul and happiness tie
Although I may not be there
For you that time
But believe me I was you
All the time
Venturing the dim light
Of your cries and fright
I'm sorry I couldn't save you
But believe me I was you

If my words could buy,
Someone like you,
I would deeply chew,
Over words to write more often,

If the words, I speak,
Were the ones you were fond of,
Then all of the words I pick,
Would hover around your beauty,
Like the bees flooding the garden,
With their 'hummmmms'

But, to my dismay
To you, my words are wierd
To you, my speech is a low gust
That couldn't influence your flowers into moving

That is why I write so less about you,
For my poetry, that I so dearly caress,
Might not be so poetic, for you to embrace

En este menester dado de acordinacion y todo, empezaremos.

Todas se van en un barco, algunas se quedan y pensaran en **** y el todo, quedaran con las sensaciones libres de otras metas en sus mentes.

Teniendo el balance de todos los años, se acordaron de el barco donde estaban, fueron una por una tomando sus vitaminas, recuerdos de piel.

Los hombres se les pegaban con accordiones, ellas gustan más acción, o menos mal les bailan.

Al menos tienen en ellas algo que considerar, de muchos gustos y más arena, el mar da.

Withering weather clouds all of my minds
   of whispering willows and all of my time.
Someone help me of this pain begone
   or forgotten me is forgone already.