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Madeon Aug 2017
If Love is a disease
then I'm very sick
but incredibly happy....
Àŧùl Jul 2017
To that time I dedicate this rhyme,
I was a little fatty but was happy,
As by chance I had her romance.

Now I am almost underweight,
I don't mind having lost weight,
Moving on I do not have to wait.
My HP Poem #1642
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jul 2017
Time, they say,
Time is very strong.
Memories it makes fade away,
But sometimes it takes too long.
My HP Poem #1643
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jul 2017
Read along the lines...
But it doesn't imply my falsehood,
Under the wicked sky I live,
Truly unruly my life is right now.

I am very much incompatible.

And not just with herself,
Maybe with everybody else.

Hard are the days alone,
Ageing I'm but gracefully,
Perhaps I'm best left single,
Pouting is an opportunity,
Yes it is inviting me too.

Bask in the calm sunlight,
Ending is another phase,
Indeed this is satisfying,
Nightmares are fading,
Giving me happiness.

Sorry I'm not about her,
I am no-one to crib,
Not about her studies,
Gleeful I must remain,
Long life brings smiles,
Era of my life is common.
My HP Poem #1632
©Atul Kaushal
Paul Jones Jul 2017
The forest shimmers,     sunshine glows and dims,
Dappled light dancing     with summer colours.
12:30 - 21/07/17

State of mind: nostalgic.
Perspective: personal; spiritual; existential; philosophical.

Thoughts: from memories - of walking along a riverbank, deep into a Welsh forest, the sunshine glowing and dimming, dappled light dancing with the summer colours.

I think I experience true joy and peace in times of solitude and exploration. These times always become strong memories. Ones that can be visited, as if they were never left.

It makes me wonder about those adages that state how if pain is felt deeply, joy also can be felt strongly. But it doesn't end there. We have sensitives, which draw us to the things that make us feel a certain way. They become our habits, if easily obtains. Our dreams, if not.

When, for real, I walk through the dappled light of that Welsh forest, I will be living my dream. But the dream is not the goal, for desire is only an urge. It is when we are there, this place of dreams, that we can comfortably give life to our thoughts and thought to our life.

Questions: Where is the place that gives life to thought and thought to life?
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