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Sally S Ali Apr 24
What is:

the time for a rose
the music for a tree
the sleep for a lover
the silence for a bee
the daylight for Kafka
the wine for a butterfly
the loneliness for a sailor
the white colour to the red

What is the world,
when i look into your eyes?
Sally S. Ali
Johnny walker Nov 2018
I close my eye's, when I do
It you my darling I'm seeing
in my mind just as If you're
here again with
me
As If you have never been
away, I no this Is only a
figment of my imagination
but I believe It keeps me  
happy and alive
Need cosing
#q
ConnectHook Oct 2018
Q-Tips raised! Their storm approaches.
Swab those ear-gates free and clear.
Thunder frightens the rats and roaches.
Looming clouds are drawing near;
Audible anticipation
Waxes with our rising nation.

Hope-**** is the thing with feathers
flying low, right before the gale.
Strident left-wing get-togethers
Do their best to countervail.
Tribunals herald something worse . . .
Enjoy some popcorn with my verse.

Martial law—a new diversion,
Flapping wings on the Left and Right
Disturbs the coop (or coup?). Subversion
now displays its plumes outright.
Deep-state angels prove satanic
sparking upper-level panic.

Rumors can be quite arresting.
Cresting waves on the Psy-Ops sea
Break and roll, now manifesting
Dumbed-down mobs, conspiracy . . .
Some citizens awake to truth;
The rest rave on, benighted youth.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gfrGbax6j9I
ConnectHook Oct 2018
The past participle of deal is dealt;
Thus, when the cards fall is when it is felt.

A deck of cards knows its own unsealer
as well as the skill and art of the dealer.

Trump cards, (although not normally plural)
are to share. The enjoyment is jural.

We hope they are more than dealed incitements:
those fifty-five thousand sealed indictments . . .
Inspired by some stuff I heard at The Prophecy Club.
Maybe more hype but it was still interesting.

https://youtu.be/EXtmWpqN4UA
They're bulldozing over your gravesite
To make more ******* apartments
Hey! Let's add more idiots to the mix
To forget you exist
This is where we'd go to hid our secret
No one will ever know the extent of it
So I throw your poetry in fire pits
To resurrect your presence
In the here and now my angel
I'm so elated you found peace
Though, I'm stuck under construction
Seeking ways to embrace the living
Were seperated by dimensions
Intention is key
I reach out for your hands everytime there's a breeze
You couldnt even give me a reason
Let alone write a letter
About what went down during your last fight to get better
Oh, i cried violently same as each false alarm
Each time you challenged death
He came back stronger than before
I want you to hammer away
On my puny brain
Take my memories
But leave their stain
Because not even I can embrace it's rich paint
#q
Aquilla Apr 2016
She was Quaint
  And she was Quiet
But her words came in Quantity
With nothing other than Quality
She was a Quantitative Quilt of knowledge
Full of Questions and Queries
She was an ever moving Quill
Writing the book of her life

Yes she was Quaint
                   And Quiet.
The Disastrous Quake
Hiding behind a hazy cloud
That hung above the darkening earth,
The pale moon looked portentous,
Sensing perhaps the imminent doom!
           Nothing stirred, no noise was heard:
           The bustling towns sank into slumber
           Under the spreading shroud of gloom.
When all of a sudden,
A strange, sub-terranian thunder
The earth's bowels tore,
Pierced the ominous calm
And shook the silent towns
With a hideous roar.
            Stately towers and humble homes
            Convulsed and crumbled
            Behind clouds of dust and smoke.
            Wails and moans and screams and groans
            Rent the midnight air.
            Men and women, mangled and maimed,
            Orphaned children, battered and bruised
            Crawled from the gaping jaws of Death,
            Their erstwhile homes,
             Now their graves, streaked with blood.
Dreadful spectacle, heart-rending,
Of splendid towns, centuries old,
Smashed in a moment of nature's wrath,
Reduced to rubble at one ruthless stroke,
Victims injured, on the verge of Death -
A groaning heap of shattered hopes!
                ***  M.G.Narasimha Murthy,
*Recent earthquakes: April 2015- Nepal was shaken by an earthquake of 7.8 magnitude, killing 8,959 people, injuring
22,303more and destroying 7,76,895 buildings including 131 historic monuments. This week, Myanmar, Japan and Ecuadar have been shattered causing huge loss of life and destruction of property.
I've known you twice
in this life
and some things are always the same
(if you can say
always
about two people)
you're always vegan
and you have really great hair
and a love
and understanding
of art
that I can never hope to match
with my numbers and my equations
(like x = you + me is never one I can solve
because you need two equations to solve for two
variables
and you're always
variable
and sometimes I'm not even sure I know myself)

and I feel in the pit inside me like
we should be good friends
but maybe you don't need me
and maybe this connection
is only a one-way street
the way some people say they feel
connected
to celebrities

(I don't think I worship you
like you're famous
but there's some kind of worship
there
anyways, like you're a blinding star
and I'm a lump of rock
spit out by some minor moon
barely worth your notice, even though I
revolve around you)

and I never find out why it seems
like your heart always has to beat
a million miles away
from mine
#l #q
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