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And he said
I'm not 9 to 5 person
Sometimes I'm
7 to 9
Sometimes I'm
10 to 7
Sometimes I'm
Round the clock

But while I rest
I just neglect
The **** time
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Diary || And what about yours?
Mystic Ink Plus Jul 2019
He/She asked her/him
"What is the thing I need to change?"

All of the sudden
She/He replied

"Obsession"
"Obsession with me"

In silence, he/she thanked
For reminding
A reason
Genre:Dark Abstract
Theme: ******* soul
Mystic Ink Plus Jul 2019
Tell them

Mostly HE/SHE stays silent
Sometime HE/SHE has something to say
And sometime HE/SHE has to behave arrogant
And sometime HE/SHE has to turn the back
To keep distance

HE/SHE has to do
All this
Just to keep alive
God in HIM/HER

Tell them
HE/SHE is different
Not everyone understands
And, they don't have to
What is going on
Genre: Inspirational
Theme: Virtue || Essence || Being Human || Better Human Project
Mystic Ink Plus Apr 2019
प्रेम छ कतै, कतै दुःख, आक्रोस, निरासा
दयाको खानि कतै, उत्खनन गरे कतै धोखा
झुटैझुटका कहानीहरु, कतै दुःख निरासा
कुसलताले झिक्न सकिन्छ सम्मानका भाषा
ज्ञानको छत्र चढाउ, अस्त्र बुद्घिको
कतै मुर्खका फणहरु, कतै स्वच्छ राह
कतै सृजनाका झरनाहरु, कतै उर्जा, उत्साह
दुबिधाका रुपहरु, कतै नीरस अन्धकार
लिलै लिलाको देख्छु यो संसार
कतै दानव मान्छेहरु
कतै मानवहरुभित्र इश्वरको वास
कतै मौनता, कतै छ मुस्कराहट
करुणाका कथा कतै, कतै कर्मका रुपहरु
उल्झन आरोप कतै, कतै संर्घष, समस्या
अविश्वास कतै, कतै रुखोपना
कृतज्ञता कतै, कतै प्रसंसै प्रसंसा
कतै संबेदना, कतै सद्गुण
प्रेम, मायाको खानी कतै
कतै निष्ठा, कतै बैराग्य
सत्य, सेवा कतै, कतै सर्मपण
लिलै लिलाको संसारमा
रहश्यै रहश्यको मुहान ।
शैली : अवलोकन
विषय: अर्को प्रयास
Lucius Furius Dec 2018
This desert is our life.
From the dry earth we gather roots and melons.
Over the endless sands we hunt the gemsbok and the springbok.
  
Sometimes the ga roots are shriveled and bitter.
Sometimes men are sick with thirst and hunger.
  
When there is water we drink and sing and clap our hands.
When there is food we eat and dance and clap our hands.
  
The eland does not come to us and ask to be eaten --
one must know how to make the arrow and poison it
and where to look and how to hide and shoot. . . .
  
What man is so foolish as to expect more? To expect
the rain to be always falling, his eggs full of water and
his stomach full of meat?
  
You have strong animals to carry you.
You have much food and water.
Your digging sticks are hard and sharp.
Your shooting-sticks are like lightning.
  
You are a powerful man and a good man.
I can see that in your eyes.

But what you offer is a dream.
  
You can give us water and meat.
You can fill our hands with tobacco and perfect beads.

But you cannot give us happiness.

  
A man can only drink so much and then he is full.
If a man is always eating honey, he tires of it and becomes sick.
  
And even if all life were sweet --
what man is not food for lions and dogs?
A man who has tasted in his life no bitterness will find death very bitter.
  
My mouth longs for sweetness
but sweetness brings bitterness
and in the end they are one.
  
So I ask you:
Take your digging sticks and your shooting-sticks.
And do not leave them behind.
Go to the green lands you came from.
We shall walk in this desert as we always have.
(The occasion for this speech is the arrival of an expedition
headed by a European in a Bushman werf around the year 1900.)

Hear Lucius/Jerry read the poem: humanist-art.org/old-site/audio/SoF_007_bushman.MP3 .
Note: This poem is part of the Scraps of Faith collection of poems ( https://humanist-art.org/scrapsoffaith.htm )
Mystic Ink Plus Nov 2018
Ambivert
By default
He is

If He enjoys, He'll
If He have to, He'll
If it keeps harmony, He'll

If it needs fake smile, He'll not
If it disturbs his mind, He'll not

Extrovert 100%
To the closed circle
He is
Introvert 100%
To the rest
He is

Ambivert
By default
He is
Genre: Autobiography
Theme: You may know who i am, I only know who I'm not, nothing else matters.
Mystic Ink Plus Aug 2018
He stays
Silent
Most of the time

If he have to tell
Something
Elegant

That instant
He prefers
A brief whispers

Too exclusive
Too simple
He is aware of

Bystandar
Believes
It must be
A Poetry
Genre: Romantic
Theme: Soothing whispers
Ma Cherie Nov 2016
Fires burn all night,
it's been so long,
since we've all seen one another,

As dancing flames lick the air,
pulling an all nighter,
a willing sacrifice,
is offered,
to the heating God,
a Soapstone fireplace,
made locally,

In her lovely sturdy black cast iron,
she's rugged that baby,
cooking everything perfectly,
in the kitchen,
& heating everything else in the house,
to perfection too,

Warmed hearts beat,

A single tear falls,
as we survived the day,
a load off my mind,
some relief from the grind,

Again,
I'm soooo,
satiated,
from my,
middle Eastern dinner,
sharing the love,
& the brilliant composition,

WOW I hear -
A-mazing chef, truly,

Ahhhh t'was nothing really,
but thank ya,
emmm...
roasted root veggies,
prepared,
with a lovely maple glaze,
spicy and sweet,
but really such a filling treat,

A cherry glazed ham,
arugula, herb & green salad,
homemade oat rolls with fresh Vermont butter,
melted,

Yum,

I'm a piece of Vermont,
my capable hands,
handed down to me,
making Wintry
M A G I C
in your kitchen,
cuz' I'm just a guest tonight,
in this house anyway,

The twinkle lights in the room,
look just like dragonflies to me,
gold and orange shining,
so glad they  stopped in,
everyone,
all day,

Good people,
good food,
good times,

GREAT memories,

It must be 80 degrees in here,

I'm roasting in this place,

As a lone candle is left flickering,
into a small mountain of wax,
as it is dripping down the side,
permanently changing the mantel,

My alter,
just for you,
is adorned with crystals & stones,
as I hold a crucifix & bones,

I pray another day like this,
folded hands don't lie,
early till late,
finally a reprieve,
I try to believe,

As tired grateful hands and bellies,
my "fandamnly"
are all in jammies,
& tucked in tight,
love you all I say goodnight,
sweeeet dreams sweet poets,

All in flannel and the like
as our boots & mitts dry out,

A busy fire,
is doing so much,
a fan is whirring,
all are,
resting so peacefully,
a mother's true joy,
a lover, & a friend,
on whom you can depend,

I love you all so very much,

I miss you too,

I'm watching that beautiful man sleep,
and snore so low,
watch him breathe again,
I say please don't go,

As the heavy wet snow,
blankets these Green mountains,
covering my world tonight,
it cleans the sins of the day,
& yesterday,
wash us clean,
in that pure white,

Low music,
is playing,
into the still,
it was left on,
I remember it all with you,
& I probably always will,
cheers my love,
wherever you are,
so very very far above,

My head is down on a soft pillow,
warm sheets and blankets,

As I set to see you again,
in my dreams,

Gently closing my eyelids,
you bid me adieu,
 again I'm reminded,
reminded of you,

Yup,
pulling an all nighter with your memory again,

As I,
just,
          d
              r
                 i
                  f
                     t
                     .
                       .
                          .
                             .
                               .          
    
Cherie Nolan © 2016
This is the truth. ❤ picture of fire on page.
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