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ajit patel Mar 2017
Umpteen years of gentle love,  
touching of souls,  melting hearts.  
Burnt lava nd acid too.

Two of us as one,  in a random epoch of time.
Is God ordained or  a throw of dice?  
A matter of deep speculation is.

Look at this humble Plumeria, Sweet Love,  
a hardy plant it is,  
It's lived through a couple of droughts,
two leaves still shiny,
look forlorn on its gnarled trunk,  
for It's tiny buds long burned by heat,
refuse to sprout any further greens.

A hope in its will to live,
and flower once every year.
What better a symbol of our  connect than
this mute brute of a shrub.

I give this plant to thee my dear,
take good care of it,
water it and watch it live,  
for its life is a symbol of our love..

Do not worry too,  if it dies,  for its only a glyph..

I'll plant another tree for you,
This time a mango,
which will grow big and olive under your tender hands..
to again ikonize a new phase..
One that gives fruit and shade,
to generations of birds and bees,
us in our old age,

and an abode to our Haunted Undead Souls!
(c) Ajit Patel, 9th March, 2017
For  M
hazem al jaber Feb 2017
love's Symbol ...

wherever you be ...
whenever you are ...
there is love ...
because you are ...
the love ...
and it's symbol ...
which it planted so deep ...
into my heart ...

i wish i was a rain ...
to rain you with my all love ...
from my wet clouds ...
to irrigate you ...
with my love ...
i wish i was the wind ...
to run after you ...
there where you are ...
to be the breathes ...
to your soul ...

i wish i was a garden ...
full of all kind roses ...
to be always into me ...
and to keep you ...
the pretty queen ...
to my garden ...

i wish i was the blood ...
the red blood from you ...
to be always inside you ...
to run happily through you ...
through all your veins ...
till i stay there where i love ...
there inside your heart ...
forever and never to leave ...
ooh babe sweet girl ...

i wish i was the heart of you ...
inside your body sweetheart ...
to be always with you ...
and to keep beating ...
only for you ...
to give the love ...
and to take all the love ...
which i really feel about you ...
yes sweet babe mine ...

i wish i be ...
all what makes you ...
the symbol of love ...
only just to love you ...
and to get love from you ...
and to be only forever ...
in love with you ...

i wish i be ...
wish to be for me ...
only for me ...

hazem al ...
Tony Luxton Dec 2016
Here they come to seek a symbol
of seaside sun - a cruise ship
castaway, beached,rain stained,
landlubbers hamock and griddle.

But first they collapse me and curse me.
Doing it properly should be
part of their curriculum vitae,
a test of nationality.

Then I'm candy flossed, ice creamed, Blackpool
rocked, salted and crisped, generally stuffed,
while they lie back, roast and relax.
Good job it's not a nudist beach.
What others might see it as a Mexican game,
In my eyes it means so much more.
It symbolizes the unity and bond between family
Each loteria card reminds me of someond
Like la valiente reprents my mother,
Strong and brave
It also reminds me of how life works.
Sometimes it may look like you are winning
But end up losing. Or vise versa.
When you you thougth you have lose it all,
A sudden turn happens and win.
MindsPalace Nov 2016
Pie can be made with fruit,
Pie can be made with chocolate,
Pie can make you smile,
Pie can make you *****,
Pie can be elaborate,
Pie can be quite simple,
Pie could be literal,
Pie could be a symbol…

The Pie of Life is hot,
Or maybe it is cold,
You could heat it up,
Or maybe it's too old,
The Pie of Life has flavors,
It's dynamically unique,
But what's your pie like?
It's changing as we speak.

Every day it changes,
Sometimes we eat,
But not until we die
Is our Life Pie complete.
Our choices are the flavors,
Our thoughts roll the dough,
Our actions bake our pie,
So what have I to show?

Our pies explain us,
My pie is my success,
Is my pie good enough?
Do I have enough, or less?

Thankfully you've offered me
Ingredients to help me try.
Our friendship is, I'm sure,
A nice addition to my Pie.
André Morrison Nov 2016
A mind so full of thought;
Yet so far from emotion
A understanding of lust embedded in his mind;
Yet so far from a notion

A symbol of endearment;
Yet to be discovered
An ethereal touch;
To his soul; to be recovered
One: Smokey grey; the kind that blurs your vision or gathers in corners of ceilings that are somehow still not as high as you.
Two: The teal that masked the bedroom walls of my old home; the bedroom with nothing but a mattress on the floor and my unplugged television. I was eco-friendly, which leads me to
Three: Green: any and all greens. Mother Nature makes it obvious she loves its hues, and I strive to be one with this Earth.
Four: Whether fueled by anger or love, give me rose-colored shades and I'll rock 'em with grace and style like none before. My red blood boils with passion.
Five: Making concrete decisions is not my forte, so choosing a final favorite will leave me second guessing. Combine all the options and give me a rainbow, because when we see a color, it is actually that color being reflected while all the other colors are absorbed. They work together, as we should. You bring the crayons and I'll bring the blank canvas, let's paint the world rainbow together.
The president of my college's Poetry Club recently said to me, "This is a little random, but what are your five favorite colors? Please be as specific and poetic as possible." Naturally, I wrote more than just a list of colors.
JR Rhine Sep 2016
It wasn't God

                      that chased me down dark recesses

            both seen and unseen

                             but the allegory.
Graff1980 Sep 2016
He says with a certain amount of spit
that if they step on or burn it
he will **** them.

My feelings are torn.
While I mourn the loss rational thoughts
the passion of what he was taught
does not seem permeable.

I do not think I will be able
to separate him from the unstable
emotional connections
stirred by bland patriotic symbols.
K Balachandran Aug 2016
An age old chair, in seasoned teak wood
carved, a perfect work of art, nothing less than
a masterpiece, and a  reminder of so much past,
sat regally before our wondering eyes, tempting
on the central court yard of my  ancestral home,
where generations lived.
                               Wanting to sit like my grandpas of yore
I found a carpenter, perhaps the last one for this work
who understands the air that surrounds the chair.
We discussed the concept,
design and the kind of wood
it has to be  made,to create a replica
to bring back the grandeur of times past.
But then, found  not an easy task  it is
"Do you deserve it ?" the bearded
carpenter, was so blunt in his skeptic stance!
He  puzzled me  with his questions
Yet we were keen to give it a try.

The adamant carpenter relented
after many sessions of questions
and answers, perhaps my passion
did the trick, his eyes made me believe.
He promised to make me a chair
(The kind none would dream in this age)
as if it's a mission divinely assigned,
"You need to change a lot to deserve it"
he insisted, suggests a series of
purification rights  "for your confused soul"

"To fit  in to a chair like this , fulfill
all it's  demands"in my ear he whispered
as if I am the chosen one for an ancient  throne.

An  antique chair shaped by the imagination
of my distant ancestors, now changes me
and without slightest  resistance I submit;
would I ever know what is happening?
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