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 Mar 19 Nigdaw
Nylee
Purge
 Mar 19 Nigdaw
Nylee
Slowly taking away every piece of me written from this place
My power is limited, but I love the feeling of purge
it will be fresh start, gradually and then all of a sudden
It will be blessing in disguise, a hidden current,
Stilled in backdated history, written words are not immortal.
 Mar 5 Nigdaw
Spicy Digits
We will burn you.

Your belly is full of power
That is not yours
The collective charge of a millennia of silenced people

Your greed is a starving parasite in a
a bloated carcass

Today she is rewarded with a diagnosis for her insight
Tomorrow he is fitted with a muzzle for his tenderness

We will burn you.
 Mar 5 Nigdaw
Nishu Mathur
Grateful for the blue skies
For the warmth of a day 
For soft drops of rain

For lilac buds and trees 
Dancing leaves 
For ocean waves on sandy grains. 

Grateful for what is seen 
Touched, felt 
In whispers heard

The moment that soaks in 
The little joys of life 
Midst the spinning of the world.

Grateful for wine and water
Fruit of orchards
Seasons that shed

For hands that help 
Eyes that speak 
With words unsaid.

Grateful for those who love 
For the wind behind
Feathered wings

For angels that twinkle 
Through the stars 
And the light they bring.

Grateful for kindness 
Tenderness 
Hugs in gentle embrace

Grateful for smiles 
That come my way 
That my fingers love to trace.

Grateful for rays of hope 
That fill a cup 
Then glimmer on the rip

Grateful for you 
And the quiet presences 
For the gift of life and Him.
 Mar 4 Nigdaw
Malia
Daffodil
 Mar 4 Nigdaw
Malia
Hello yellow
Daffodil, as you scatter
Like the sun.
I see you spread
Your daylight ‘round
But still, your petals
Fall to the ground,
And I think to myself,
“I wish I were you,
I wish I were you but happy.”
we all have that person don’t we
 Mar 3 Nigdaw
Benzene
Ax
 Mar 3 Nigdaw
Benzene
Ax
the branch that left the tree , returned as an ax .
heavy rain from a darkening sky
and buildings  fall

no one knows what will be left
running down the nowhere
where dreams die
on a metal tray
at the hospital morgue

trouser leg pushed up
the search for black ink
and a child's name
begins

perhaps the arm
the hip

the back?

and the children plead,
lie to me,
tell me,
i won't die,
today

and the silent screams
are left in an eternity of why?

foul and bitter hearts
will prevail
on both sides,
this is the poetry of death
the far edge of your love
rushes into me
like small increments of sugar
stirred into my coffee cup

it is the edge of things
i most desire

golden and violet clouds
settling just above the sea at sunset

the dive into the deep
green sea
and then the slow rise to sun

the far edge of your love rushes to me
like smoldering embers
waiting to be the fire once more

it is the edge of you i most desire
like the end of a ridge looking down
into the clouds below

the far edge of your love
rushes into me
and it is the edge of your love i desire
the perfume of pale blue flowers
the elusive summer captured in your smile
and l'appel du vide
 Mar 3 Nigdaw
Man
Displays of the wrong, &
Castigation of the right;
Tongues run to stay, even
When it comes to face.
Eye to eye
But, more often than not,
They turn away.
Not to brandish the cheek
But to break the gaze.
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