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adept Apr 2018
My vision has been contorted.
All colors no longer blend
but rather stand out and by
themselves. All lives and
positions seem different from
the angles they are presented in .
So what you gained a little weight
It won't make a difference to me when your legs are up in the air and I'm in between there
The more of you I get to touch
The better things are
Don't worry about being fat
Because you won't be
But thicker thighs
Save lives
With deeper sighs
Of pleasure
Don't worry about the measure
I'd still be enjoying what I see
Pure as the Seven Seas
You'll always be more gorgeous then me
Never forget that
I'll still want to get you finished on surface bumpy or flat
You can teach me yoga on your yoga mat
That's how I see that
Tony Luxton Apr 2018
There's a myth that when you finish
a good book, the author dies for you.
At least, I often feel a sense of loss.
I was near the end of a fine book of essays.
I heard the author was dying, incurable.

Famous mass media man, favoured
by the more selective viewers, journalist,
interviewer, novellist, cultured critic,
humourist, philosopher, a thinker's man.

Ought I to have read that final essay,
defy the myth? Next day I scanned
the papers. His death was not reported.
I trust we both breathed normally again.
Best wishes to Clive James.
B Mar 2018
forever young
is false
We are only as
young as
We live our lives
Bardo Mar 2018
O! the lives I've wasted
The lives I could have led
If different paths I'd taken
And different people I'd met.

O! what friends were lost
When just around the corner they lay
Their voices heard but their faces
   hidden
O! why had Destiny to steer me this
   way.

                              II

With my life here in my hands
My impulsive moves and slow
   meanderings
My efforts regulated by my will to
   abstain
In gaining my present position
What have I lost elsewhere
And what have others lost
Because of my absence there.
No, I haven't killed anyone, this is about regrets and what ifs, a bit of existential angst
Salmabanu Hatim Mar 2018
I was a good human being,
Kept many orphans under my wing,
Did charity,
To the best of my ability,
Never missed a prayer,
Was always a soothsayer.
I chose the right path,
Never crossed your wrath,
Then, why from a tomb,
I am in another woman's womb.
During my death You showed me my life's journey,
Actually, it was funny,
From an amoeba, a single cell,
To so many reincarnations, difficult to retell.
A mole, a snake, a dog, a horse,
A pilot in the Indian Airforce,
A scientist, a politician, a millionaire, a priest,
Some births I had sinned, gone astray,
Angels had shown me the way.
Now,I had been a holi priest,
I had sinned the least,
Why?why?why?
I have to be reborn again,
Each time to a different culture,
another religion
Is it that I have yet to climb the last rung,
My sins completely washed,the last song sung.
It is believed you relive many lives before you reach your final stage
mass slaughter
     of innocent kids aye abhor,
an undeniable chance, some and/or all
     those slain Valentine' Day 2018,
     would be alive borne out
in living color before
killing spree resulted in unwonted deaths,

     when deputy Scot Peterson
     abdicated his chief chore
and did not intervene (perhaps...
     playing positive pivotal role)that fateful day,
     but walked up to a closed door
then rode a golf cart February fourteenth

     (appearing dumbfounded as Eeyore)
when seventeen people killed
     (lying dead on the floor)
     inside the Parkland, Fla. school
     seeds bracketed speculation galore,
sans officer at Marjory
     Stoneman Douglas High School did ignore

Shooting not "FAKE" baffles
     and begs question, why bemused
mentioned deputy did not
     strong arm gunman Nikolas Cruz,

Who unloaded his AR-15
     inside the school settling revengeful dues
as said killer explained,
     which no skew logic can excuse

     as the latter indiscriminately
     brandished barrel that fired
     bullets at random youths
     (unwitting targets) lighting a fuse

of explosive rage, and
     (leaving no iota of doubt) lose
zing no chance against death penalty,
     as surveillance video released into news
media Thursday (July 15th),

     truth one cannot refuse
to see, where young baby faced assassin
     blithely pumped bullets
     dooming lives, whose shoes
unable to outrun as classmates got felled by ones and twos.
Dess Ander Mar 2018
We picture ourselves through filters and lenses
Faking our lives under false pretenses
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