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“Let down the bars, O Death!
The tired flocks come in
Whose bleating ceases to repeat,
Whose wandering is done.

Thine is the stillest night,
Thine the securest fold;”
“Too near thou art for seeking thee,
Too tender to be told.”

-Emily Dickinson
IncholPoem Jan 2019

Rama  is  thin
But  in  "Ramayan" of

          Hindu is  not  so  fat

               just  like  thin.

Wood  polish  thinner
is  not  thin.

It  is  made  to

     fill  up the  soft  and
tiny  holes.

he  size  of  holes
really  very  thin.

Earth  is  very  thin
but  the  universe  is  not

so  thin.

   The cycle  is    thine.
The  mind  is   thine.
The  mind's  running
cycle is  thine.

The  TV  is  tine.
The  wife  is  thine.
never could this baby boomer papa –
   lviii orbitz round mister sun as I write while wife
at present (takes her siesta) imagine
   dragons, killer Queen Latifah countless ways,

   thee first of deux daughters
   would in vite learning how to comprehend
   unfamiliar infant siren ear splitting strife
and mandatory pronto reception,
   unwittingly ineluctably altering my life

prior to parturition of our eldest heiress,
   ah wanna let
chew in on a bit about mess elf
   before becoming a papa
   no emotional, financial,
   nor physical obligation dim manned did

   obliged, nor required this bard **** to in debt
any of his waking and sleeping second,
   minute, quotidian hour,
   et cetera on behalf of another person Yukon bet

char sweet bippy, that despite initial onset
   of anticipatory anxiety (no pet
tee personal issue; burping baby,
   diapering, swaddling, et cetera fermi person

   easily got shucked off), hitherto
   didst any phenomena until then
   force displacement of personal habits
   to become secondary, and obviously,

   seriously visibly up set
status quo, where embedded fixations
   housed within this scribe
   required reassignment of tasks
   until salient event forced him to vet
any less important issues

   to an unspecified future
   date and/or time, which role  
   i.e. forsook luxury sans,
   affordable focus on me,
   and immediately didst force crash course
   to keep figurative whet
   stone sharp every waking
   and sleeping moment of me life, yet....

though a crash course imposed  role
   viz immediate adjustment of mister mom
(which obviously necessitated significant sacrifice
   upon the head of this major Tom)

never before until that juncture
   such selfless experience ever met,
but in retrospect salutary outcome
   found thoughts linkedin whereby
   time never divided, partitioned,
   or sectored off to another livingsocial being

I never took care of an infant,
   when her crying heard
   yet, the birth of Eden Liat Harris incurred
   (born at Bryn Mawr Hospital),

an irrevocable positive transformation occurred
within and without
   the world according to Matthew Scott Harris
   got mussed and stirred.

No longer central focus of mein kempf,
   NON GMO, and glue tin free
continual attention to offspring
took precedence not always glee
full, and how receptive lee

toward voluntary selflessness:
   case in point regarding the selfish me
bumped off the long entrenched priority
toward my needs and wants prithee.

A recombinant adjustment incumbent
outlook arose upon freshly minted papa,
   where stork sent
Weltanschauung demanded gent
to reef focus his shift, which meant
twenty four hours, seven days a week

   plus work in order to pay rent
away from him, and directed a tent
shun toward welfare, welcome, and well being
   for totally tubularly dependent new outlook on life,
   especially when spouse went
out for a breathing spell
became priority number
   one thru...infinity, no hard sell

though lacking with any knowhow aye tell
asper tendering attention upon survival
   of (what essentially
   constituted a foreigner), like George Szell
thy senses required rejiggering, which this fell
low highly struggled with cuz,

no handbook (as promised by manufacturer to boot
ever preceded via Sir-vex), nor followed suit
leaving nervous dada in the dark spooked by a hoot
at onset, when our bundle of joy
   more valuable than any amount of loot

could buy, and when back to apartment we did rent
(at that time) Pennfield Manor not heaven sent
situated within breathing distance
   of slaughter house five scent.
Wordsinalign Apr 2017
To turn fifty shades of pink and red was too mainstream, so the skies turned blue with a single glance from you. Breathing a heavy sigh, she prayed for it all to be thine.
Scarlet Niamh Jan 2016
In the midst of my wakening,
what is this quintessence of ash
that haunts my soul?

What is sanity,
which quivers not need before your eyes,
whether you do not exist in reality,
only fiction in my assonance.

What wonder is the reasoning of man,
how simple in splendour. The clarity
of wakefulness which I perceive to be
sanity is only the same clarity with
which I dream or breathe, only the same
clarity which madmen believe to be reality.

If deception and error are my clarity
then nothing is my reality, for all lie
to protect themselves from the nightmare of old,
His power not enough to protect your mind
from the evil inside of your bones, the fire inside
of your soul. Which likens to the hellfire I find
in the dampening nights of relentless cries;
the corruption of your mind is clarity - a
clarity in your twisted reality.
~~ Insanity is the wonder of my reality. ~~
Charleigh Huston Dec 2015
The MOON is distant from the sea,
On this midnight dreary,
Where we are thine and thee -
Until we are weary.

He never misses my eye,
When we meet our hands -
Crystalline as the sky,
Along appointed Sands.

Oh, Love, thine hand;
Is mine own distant sea -
Under the Moon's land,
Thine and thee.
David Somerset Jun 2015
You just have to realize
He said to me
People have there ups
their downs, their in-betweens
their plays, their acts
their big dramatic scenes

They play their own parts
Then they are on their way
Sometimes they come back
Sometimes they stay away
Finally to play their part to someone else
In another place on another day

So give your lines
Say them well
And if the world likes them not
Let it go it go to hell!

David Somerset written unknown date
                              Edited 6/11/2015
Be True to Yourself
Sanyam Gupta Mar 2015
Oh my god is she beautiful
As serene and true as death
A wonder in the eyes of many
Wishing to be fresh as her breath

I want to walk with her,
Hold her hands entangled with mine
And whisper silently in her ear
"I love you, I am thine"

Could you ever believe that,
It would come this?
A beautiful soul,
Would give you eternal bliss;

I am buried in her eyes.
Enchanted in her charm.
Bewitched by that smile,
That strikes my heart and causes such harm,

That the most wholesome flowers could not heal.
A slit that would give me pain so sweet,
That even my senses could no believe,
And take me on a ride and sweep me of my feet.

She turns towards me and smiles,
Ever more tattling, ever more playing with her hair,
That rest above a face so sweet,
Like a grapevine of golden mare.

And in my mind does one thing exist,
To hold her and make her mine.
Such elixir of mirth and jolly,
Mixed with such beauty divine.

— The End —