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Anais Vionet Aug 2023
Making him argue with me about something silly, so we can make up.
Stealing his pencil so he has to put his arms around me to get it.
Walking to class a different way, because I know I’ll pass him.
Jogging together or racing him to the top of the climbing wall.
Having him walk me to class even though it’s out of his way.
Playing, “yeah, but have you ever seen one of THESE?”
Driving the countryside to see the changing fall leaves.
He’s weird, I’m weird, our weirdnesses mesh perfectly.
Hearing a love song and thinking, wow, it’s about him.
Watching him work out, study, or talk to his friends.
He’ll call me at 2am and tell me to stop studying.
Making up stories to tell him in silly voices.
When he brings me coffee between classes.
When he picks me up, like I’m weightless.
Stargazing together on chill fall evenings.
When he picks out my outfit for the day.
When we get ready, together, to go out.
Studying at a coffee shop together.
The way he makes me feel happy.
The way he makes me feel smart.
Buying him things, like clothes.
His twangy western accent.
The way he says my name.
Dancing without music.
His exciting otherness.
The way he smells.
The butterflies I feel knowing he’s coming to town - tomorrow.
Anais Vionet Aug 2021
Sudden kisses, in ***** stealth - warming as morning sun - unmasked favors to allure and added heat to deep affection.

Those eyes, fair heaven should be spangled with such stars - and those radiantly concupiscible lips perform witchcraft.

Slow hours of marriage-like joys soon followed - lover’s tongues tanged from the sweetest flowers not of the field.

In that dear company, I surrendered, like eve's apple, that treasure - peevish, proud and idle whose natural enemy is man.

What I find now haunting my sleep are the nights, the years of lost and unused benefits - knowing that fault was mine.
Bring again kisses - bring again life.
Dr K S Bhardwaj Apr 2021
Happiness Happy Seller Was He,
Used To Roam From Street To Street,
Selling Happiness At Throwaway Price,
In Hours Sold His Wares; Made Retreat.

I Asked Price Of A Piece Of Happiness,
He Said, "I Never Demand Any Price,
Whatever Anyone Gives I Accept
Whole-heartedly Without Thinking Twice.

I Was Surprised; Asked Him Again.
"How Do You Meet Your Basic Needs?"
He Said, "As I Sell Happiness To Anyone,
His ****** Glow Gives Me That I Need.
Happiness Is In Giving Not In Hoarding.

Puddles of joy
In the eyes of the little boy
Knew his favourite candy by the stick
Home deliveries, now real quick

Cleansing thoughts
In the word machine
Filigree of words
Wrought on the screen

The mountain tops covered in hues
Rainbow of flowers, on the plateau
White swans joined and prayed with folded heads
Grass turned green, the sky baby blue
The creator creates endless landscapes
Skyler Apr 2020
The first time we met,
I knew I could trust you.
Not a burden, nor a threat.
Together we grew.

Our bonds of friendship, unbroken.
Life was light, as it was dark.
Loyalty, honesty. Given. Unspoken.
We've always had that spark.

It has all been thrown at us.
Never once did I doubt,
Through all the breaks and cuts,
The screams, the shouts.

We'll always have each other,
Everyone else is background noise,
That has become lost in the thunder,
As we've discovered our joys.

Friend is too weak a word,
To describe what you are.
Family is more preferred,
As you are never far

From my heart and mind.
When the call comes,
I'll respond in kind.
No matter the outcome.

We've had each other's backs,
Through joys and losses.

Through thick and thin,
Sam, what a pleasure it's been.
Being friends with someone for 9 years, you're bound to go through a lot together. Love each other, hate each other. break apart then reunite. Goddess knows we've had our fair share of trials, even at a young age. Through it all, there was never any doubt in my mind about the loyalty and honesty within our friendship. I am reminded of that today. Sam, if you read this, I am humbled and honoured by the friendship we've had. Let's keep growing. I have all the love and respect for you in the world.
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Death
by Rabindranath Tagore
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You who are the final fulfillment of life,
Death, my Death, come and whisper to me!
Day after day I have kept watch for you;
for you I have borne the joys and the pangs of life.
All that I am, all that I have and hope, and all my love
have always flowed toward you in the depths of secrecy.
One final glance from your eyes and my life will be yours forever, your own.
The flowers have been woven and the garland prepared for the bridegroom.
After the wedding the bride must leave her home and meet her lord alone in the solitude of night.

Keywords/Tags: Tagore, translation, Hindi, death, final, fulfillment, life, come, whisper, joys, pangs, hope, love, secrets, secrecy, flowers, garland, bridegroom, wedding, bride, lord, night, mrburdu
Krishnapriya Feb 2020
Stories of the past
Let them be
Moments of joy
Fluttering butterfly hearts
Let them be
Drama and trauma
Tears, indignity
Let it be

Like sleeping babies
Tuck them in bed
With a kiss
On the forehead
Let them be

Turn your face
To right here
Smile
In this moment
Eternity unfolds
M Solav Jul 2019
My childhood,
My whole upbringing,
All the things that I've done
And all of whom I have met;
Everything I have seen
In my homeland and overseas;
Every wasted thought,
Stories I have kept to myself,
Words I have shared in vain...
Such a quantity of inputs,
From ears, eyes and touch;
So much thought invested
Trying to uncover new paths;
All this pain for all this time,
All the joys that last a while;

They amount to just a few...
A few more clever taps
On top of the screen
Of an electronic pad.
Written in December 2018.


— Copyright © M. Solav —
This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact marsolav@outlook.com for usage requests. Thank you.
__________
Afeli Jul 2018
You remind me of simple joys :
Like the touch of a comfy blanket,
Like soft murmurs of love,
Like a walk in nature,
Like a splash in a puddle,
Like writing a poem;
                
Like writing a poem about you.
When e'er i chance
     to steel a passing glance
     in the mirror hairline fractures appear
than 'afore long

     snap, crackle, pop
     becomes crystal clear,
whence aluminium glass mirror
     (made of a float glass

     incorporating additional processes)
     leaves highly reflective surface patina 'ere
one narcissist ken
     while away countless hours

     preening, primping, and pruning
     e'en the slightest glare
ring blemish finds cause
     for cosmetic surgery

     evincing interlinear
crows feet and dark
     circular "bags" that distinctly lear,
which medical term for skin folds

     and ballottable skin edema
     described as “festoon,”
     or “malar mound,”
     an eye sore overclear

demanding immediate
     dermatological action
     (if necessary) taking
     extra adipose tissue from rear

end supposed extra junk in the trunk,
     where derrière,
     would not be unduly sore,
     perhaps requiring

     (whatever would suture self)
     plus extra padded underwear
which subjugation voluntarily
     "going under the knife,"

     would stave off depredations aging
     (such as puffy eyes)
     at least for another year.
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