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Have you ever noticed that when two
people are together and deeply in love
their ****** features resemble each other?
Such is the transforming power of love.
© 2021 George Krokos
Written in Feb.'21.
Let your face shine with your smile behind your COVID 19 mask.
Swathe your lips by kind words.
Look at others with the eye of your heart.
Dress yourself with a garment of content.
Diffuse your community with the fragrance of compassion.
Bake your heart with tenderness.
Burn your soul with love.
Wear the crown of humanity.
Stand tall as a model for rendering services to others.

Hussein Dekmak
Man 7d
compatriots, let your voices sing
like an unchecked choir
let words be the pitfalls
your opposition face
and in their fall from grace
at attempts to smear you
hold to each of them
those things that endear you
for a friend is but a stranger
that met you on a good day
with a bright disposition
and an enemy
is simply
someone you've not really met yet
from o'er eastern hills
a brightly glowing moon's face
rose in late eve skies
Dharatal Feb 22
Why today and tears of my eyes
Are coming from my heart .

Mouth is silent but
Heart is speaking many things.

These ears want to listen something
But what don't know.

These eyes are waiting to see something but what don't know.

The rays of hope have been hidden
In the cloud of the despair.

Heart wants to get out of this crowd
Where are I am alone, today I am in search of a silent face which can give me all answers to my questions .
Every person has a search of another person who can understand his/her mind without speaking
If I tell you, my muse,
how I long for your presence
amid the desert in the crack of dawn —
would you saunter by and stay
until these wounds be in silence
and covered by your unpredictable peace,
will you stay?

My muse, when I write you, no name
no shade, no face — a beauty with only
a mere part of your body in a physical dimension
of my story, with you here, I feel
the sense of belonging
the unknown familiarity,
take a plunge, face the mirror —
I am there, I am there.

You were born in May,
in full moon by the seaside.
You were crying melodies
and the current flow of the waves,
carried you to me, in reality, in dream,
in song, while your face
soft and maiden for what I saw in your eyes.

The past, the future,
how you brought comfort —
while my book stays there, in draft,
in awe of you, my muse.

This is how I celebrate the month of May,
where are you muse?
come and take a look in your creator —
I am here, I am here.
Wrote this for my muse! Hope you'd give this love since it's hearts' day! Bless your pen now and keep writing, writers!
Today I am reminded of a story
Everything was hunky dory
He was a friend on Facebook
Occasionally, I wrote on the wall
He liked and praised my posts and poems
There was never a whit of annoyance
"God made them of excellent stuff
They reduced to garbage dump..."
"Time teaches time and again
Lessons not learnt is a shame
Shame to the shameless
Doesn't make breathless..."
Etcetera etcetera he liked
Jackals stalking read such lines
Consciousness of guilt in them woke up in time
A crow flew and sat on Facebook friend's head
He pulled up his mental threads
Brother what are you doing
You like what jackals are guilty
An electric shock and enlightenment arrived
He showed concern for what he had praised and liked
Ended friendship on Facebook
Reasons he never tried to find
He was a friend only on face on Facebook!
Half covered faces
All over the world
Only eye meets eye
I look at you
You look at me
Am I smiling
You don’t know.
Only sadness in your eyes.

New era, another kind of world, a new reality. How long will this last
Brumous Feb 5
Another day passes by,
With me not knowing why.

A grin is plastered on my face,
Like a maniac running from something he hates;
yet I still enjoy the feeling of the chase.

The tension made it an ill-looking smile;
then the idea was washed over me.
I feel this way because...

I was useless.

I was useless yet did nothing to solve this problem.
I'll idly do something as I remember all the things that should've been done,

It haunts me

every second,


and hour.

I was a menace,
A menace to myself and everyone;
Felt like an actor reading a script.

But then again, someone said that life and all is like a play
And the world is a stage.

It makes everything feel surreal,
Like a living dream.
"Sometimes people are clouds,
they pass by without saying goodbye"
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