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Sun is going to set mind is going to greet,
West with rays to East is going to a meet.
East is leaving light West is holding night,
Day is ready to turn and tomorrow light.

Right this is many are confusion getting
Gradually moon is coming sun is setting.
In a screen of sky stars are going to play,
Sun-burnt pots are breaking in wet clay.

Birds are flying back to in search of nest,
Animals have gone to forest to have rest.
Priests are going to light candle in church,
Old aged persons are for torch in search.

Calf is searching for mother cow to return,
Leaving grazing cute grasses she is in turn.
Mother is calling children to sit in a prayer,
In hurry is coming back to her son in chair.

East is showing right west making delight,
Time is turning to hope to cross the night.
Sun is going to set mind is going to greet,
West with rays to East is going to a meet.

© Bhargabi Dei Mahakul, 2015. All rights reserved.
This poem describes about evening scene in general however spiritual insight inside has revealed the truth. The love shines through evening. Sun goes to set and at the same moment mind greets. West and East have a meet on transfer of rays in wonderful combination.  While East leaves light West holds this. This means while soul leaves body then enters in to another body. East with light is like birth and West with evening is like time of death. Likewise a day turns life too turns in same manner. Playing of stars convey here playing of souls in this Earth and sunburn pots means saturated bodies break after death and decompose like clay pots. In general sense birds return back to their nests at evening and animals take rest. Due to consciousness of life people awake and light candle in church. Old aged persons’ searching torch seems that to break ignorance souls search of wisdom.  At evening calf searches mother cow. While time of death comes a soul remembers eternal mother father who is our Supreme Authority.  While evening comes mother calls the children to come back and son who is a player too comes back to home. While the end of such time comes of this age a soul from this playground goes near his eternal mother who is also father. This is the theme behind this poem. This is written in Odisha, India and dedicated to the people of the world.
i don't know how to run
so i  crawl

while you keep running

©IGMS
i hope you will stop running
so my knees will stop bleeding
there's still
a single ray of hope
in every corner of your heart
when everything is unachievable
and when you start to believe
in

impossible

©IGMS
so don't give up
believe in yourself
make it happen
make it possible
How agonizing it is
To love you behind closed doors
Secretly, silently
Watching the clock go ticktok
As I wait impatiently
This feeling is testing my insanity
I'll become a demon to everyone
But an angel in your eyes
Because if I can't have you
Nobody can.
The night engulfs me entirely
      It welcomes me with open arms
                I feel so alive in my slumber
 Sep 2015 Wade Lancaster
Coop Lee
i mine as well be wearing flip-flops forever
in this godforsaken century.

lonely man/me/or him sits at the edge of a river.
at the edge of a town,
on the edge of a rock round and called mama
/earth.
he is contemplating jazz,
no,
madness/women/& spontaneous combustion.
he leans the sun forward to touch his forehead/combust.
the man is homeless,
  or this is his home,
  or that van parked over there and smiling.

he balances boulders in the water,
peaked on schlitz,
contemplating birds,
no,
the blood of old age and some sort of ex-girlfriend/witch’s brew.
a malt-gut sediment.
chikee hut nap
& dreams.

this is how it is for the man/me/or him raised-up
in a single-wide or on the riverside,
with the ghost of grandaddy
& his theories on complex-costume-parties.
 Sep 2015 Wade Lancaster
Coop Lee
horse aligned coil/roll of wave.
the bearded heat of sun unto birds, land **.
poseidon’s son was a bird,
out there/

                /there was a molten breach in the fissures deep.
it breathed an ooze of mother blood orange and hissing.
the coral lords photosynthesize cities from out of reef material.
where tree the family of fish, diverse and good people.
good dancers of the primordial dip.

tri-tipped dip of chips.
trident tugged zippers.
wetsuit squishy skin released.

the violent stories of men and ships.
the men and lumber treading dawn with prawns and lime.
island boys, as
big show trapeze lovers flung,
no,
as trapped monsters singing jingles
in jungles
in june.

           or july.

           the theory of hopeless elements is crushing/
           water: or currents unending.
           all above.
           all below.
As he gazed upon the sky and seen the figures in the cloud drift and go,
He came to realize it's the same in this world.
The faces that exchange the many emotions by simply looking into the soul's window,
Everything can be said by a simple glance but never told.
As he kept walking, set destination was out of the picture.
Just walking along the paved path or creating his own.
Observing the beauty and lending a hand, that's for sure.
Doing his best to help but sometimes only receiving an angry tone.
Reward was not needed, tis only in his nature.
A kind hearted man spreading what he only wishes to receive.
But life brings pains and those whom can deceive.
He simply looks to the sky, closes his eyes and enjoy the breeze.
Enhales deep and releases, he breathes.
He is alive.
I'm alive.
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