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He who laughs overmuch may have an aching heart.

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You may have other loves,

You may have other loves,
Red mouths to kiss.
Why should you lose
That loveliness for this?
No loveliness of mine
That comes and goes
Wild-fuchsia-like,
Need blind you to the rose.
So I, who bless
Your hot and passionate ways,
Still need the starry loves
Of virgin days.

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I May Have Years To Go

I MAY HAVE YEARS TO GO

I may have years to go-
Many many years
In which I will continue to fail
In the same way
I have failed
In the many more years before.

The truth is
God could give me hundreds of years more
I would still be capable
Only of being myself -

Blessed are those given the gift of greatness by God
And long-troubled those who would be given it
And are not.

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I May Have Asked Your Name

i may have asked your name
and i may have mistaken you for someone
who feels my pain

and who knows where my body lives
where my soul rests
where my feet dust every bit of dirt
where i close my eyes and sleep

i may have been noisy and nosy
i may have thought of the past neighbors who died
whose crosses are removed from their old graveyards.

you who feel my pain and yet has no name
you who say you lie you who say you survive

what can i really say? Let me hug you
Let me be with you Let me play with you
In this dark space.

My name is nothingness.

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We Still May Have a Chance

'John?
We have to do something quick.
Do you have an ailing grandmother anywhere? '

Cindy stop.
You are beginning to sound desperate.

'Call that Rice woman.
Tell her I'll buy her a new Armani outfit,
With a pair of Gucci boots.
And she can wear my pearls IF she agrees,
To show up at the rally and 'Dirty' dances
With Joe the Plummer.
AND...
There is a rumor among the staff,
That he and that lipstick wearing pitbull
Were seen with Hillary, Michelle and 'that one'
At the Crawford Ranch,
Handing out Halloween candy last night!
And 'guess' who was there? '

Who?

'Bin Laden! Can you believe it?
He and Laura were playing Backgammon.'

Cindy? Stop it!
We still may have a chance!
Arnold has promised he will be at the rally,
With 50 Cent, Lil Wayne and Kayne West.

'LIES!
We can not trust him.
Maria and Oprah share recipes.
Plus that Gayle King is much more than a pretty face.'

What does she have to do with anything?

'I tried to get you on Oprah!
And she told me to discuss it with Tyler Perry!
That he would probably do a good video for us.
WHO do these people think they are? '

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We May Have Great Plans For The Future

We may have great plans for the future but the future seems so far away
And we only can live in the present tomorrow is another day
The future's not ours to look into I once heard a wise woman say
And the sooner the rose comes into bloom the sooner 'twill fade to decay.

You will not find one who doesn't have dreams but dreams of course seldom come true
Still dreams to us all are important we all need a dream to pursue
We all need our dreams to inspire us and those who do not have a dream
Have lost their sense of life direction like a leaf in a rapid flowing stream.

When one hopes for a better tomorrow those sentiments apply to us all
And though the future we cannot look into the past we can readily recall
Of life there is truth in the saying that we must take the good days with the bad
The bright moments of joy and laughter and the dark moments when we feel sad.

We may have great plans for the future for a better tomorrow maybe
But what the future might hold for us is something that we cannot see
We keep on in hope of the good times and we all need our dreams to pursue
And if for me good things don't happen then good things might happen for you.

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She May Have Told You

she may have told you that i do not write for you
since i write for her
she may not have lied to you for she tells the truth
as she loves me too
but she must not have told you as i have not told her
that i love you too.

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This May Have Confused Them

Never have I said,
I was something that I am not.
Or others should live up to my expectations.

I may have 'hinted' a wish others to be themselves.
And this may have confused them,
As I made attempts to interpret their conversations.

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Robins May Have Red Breasts

I know why I am not included,
In your conversations.

Most of the time I am ignored.
And that is done,
Without hesitation.

However...
Allow me to just say this.
And it will be done swiftly and quick.

SUMMER,
Is not WINTER.

And...
Neither is WINTER,
A time for SPRING.

Robins may have red breasts.
But it is their chirping,
The attention to them brings!

Thank you!
I will now exit...
To disappear from you to leave.

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Few 'May' Have a Clue

The life given to me,
I have made it my own.
With time taken to structure,
And develop with interests...
All that what was needed,
To make adjustments and correct.
And sometimes finding myself...
Defenseless against a public critiquing done.

But what I've chosen to do,
Was to prove to 'myself'...
Challenges and obstacles I will face.
And fear I may feel...
But its appearance from me will not be shown.
Few 'may' have a clue what it has taken...
Even to produce 'this',
For others to disregard 'after' they read!

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Who Says You Cant Have It All

(alan jackson/jim mcbride)
A stark naked light bulb hangs over my head
Theres one lonely pillow on my double bed
Ive got a ceiling, a floor and four walls
Who says you cant have it all
My rooms decorated with pictures of you
Your letters wallpaper this shrine to the blues
Ive got precious memories at my beck and call
Who says you cant have it all
Ive got everything a broken heart needs
Im doing fine dont you worry about me
Cause Im lord and master
Of a fools taj mahal
Who says you cant have it all
Oh who says you cant have it all

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I May Have Burned a Bridge

It was believed when I left them,
I had burned a bridge.
But from my point of view...
After receiving their undo discouragement,
For years.
A severing of ties,
Led my steps to fresher air.
And a place they were hesitant to share.

I may have burned a bridge!
However,
It is clear to me I am where I want to be!
And not one wish do I have of moving backward,
To join anyone still living in fear and doubt!
If I knew this would be my experience...
I would have burned that bridge a long time ago!
With the same confidence that motivates me now!
I did not need to cross that bridge with anyone in the first place.

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Each Word May Have A Multiple Definition

We must not protest,
Thoughtlessly...
The pre-sweetened taste,
Of truth...
That has been fed to mask the naturalness.
Set it aside.
But do not eagerly digest it!

And once that is done,
Everyone should at least get an opportunity...
To at least eat the fruit that has been peeled.
And not throw it away in belief it is not nutritional.
These are new days.
We must save the contents of the 'book' and cover.
Using everything to comprehend intentions.

In other words,
Even deceptions are viable.
And can effect the overall affects of understanding!
Remember...
A picture can paint a thousand words.
However each word used,
May have a multiple definition.

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Mother, I May Have Been A Naughty Child

Mother, I may have been a naughty child,
But I am your child nevertheless!
You own the world, mother, you are the queen of the world,
And look at me, I go about in the habit of a beggar.

You are bent on neglecting me,
But I love you anyway, it is you, only you that I call upon.
Just as a child runs to his mother even after she has scolded him,
So do I run to you.

How could you push me away from you, mother,
You are my mother, are you not?
Oh, why did you cast me away, mother,
Leave me to play in the dust?
I would have been a better child,
Had only you been a little more kind to me.

I am sad and angry, mother,
I shall go away anywhere my eyes and my feet take me to.
I do not care now whether i live or die now, mother,
I am going away.

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Who Hath The Courage?

Who hath courage? Not the hero
Leading in the strife,
To receive a nation's plaudits,
For his waste of life.

Who, then, is it that hath courage?
He alone who dares
Act up to his own convictions,
And the right declares.

Who hath courage? Not the tyrant
Boasting of his skill,
To enslave and bind his fellow
At his simple will.

Who, then, is it that hath courage?
He that doth proclaim,
Unto all their right to freedom,
Every man the same.

Who hath courage? Not the sober,
Or untempted one,
Who hath never had his stomach
Eaten out by rum.

Who, then, is it that hath courage?
He who though he may
Have been using poison freely,
Throws the cup away.

Who hath courage? Not the daring,
Reckless pugilist,
Who for wager smites a brother,
With uplifted fist.

Who, then, is it that hath courage?
He that won't resent
Every little insult given
With a base intent.

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Emily Dickinson

If I may have it, when it's dead

577

If I may have it, when it's dead,
I'll be contented—so—
If just as soon as Breath is out
It shall belong to me—

Until they lock it in the Grave,
'Tis Bliss I cannot weigh—
For tho' they lock Thee in the Grave,
Myself—can own the key—

Think of it Lover! I and Thee
Permitted—face to face to be—
After a Life—a Death—We'll say—
For Death was That—
And this—is Thee—

I'll tell Thee All—how Bald it grew—
How Midnight felt, at first—to me—
How all the Clocks stopped in the World—
And Sunshine pinched me—'Twas so cold—

Then how the Grief got sleepy—some—
As if my Soul were deaf and dumb—
Just making signs—across—to Thee—
That this way—thou could'st notice me—

I'll tell you how I tried to keep
A smile, to show you, when this Deep
All Waded—We look back for Play,
At those Old Times—in Calvary,

Forgive me, if the Grave come slow—
For Coveting to look at Thee—
Forgive me, if to stroke thy frost
Outvisions Paradise!

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You May Have Obtained Nama

You may have obtained nama, but without Rama
Your title of Vaishnava is barren like a cradle in a childless home
Or a marriage procession without groom!

Lord resides within you, but you couldn't discern him;
You wander aimlessly thinking him to be afar;
You calculate about the One beyond the calculations;
You limit the Illimitable
And in this state of twoness, you count your futile beads!
You may have obtained nama, but without Rama
Your title of Vaishnava is barren like a cradle in a childless home
Or a marriage procession without groom!

You try to be Harijan without having Hari!
How can pangs of hunger subside by a bash of hollow words?
How can throes of separation subside by mere donning of ascetic clothes?
It is like the futile roaring of rainless clouds!
You may have obtainednama, but without Rama
Your title of Vaishnava is barren like a cradle in a childless home
Or a marriage procession without groom!

You think you have become harijan by merely singing lord's praises,
You try to rival a swan, when your deeds are those of a crow!
The lord will indeed disregard you!
You may have obtainednama, but without Rama
Your title of Vaishnava is barren like a cradle in a childless home
Or a marriage procession without groom!

Says Narsinh, only he is worth our obeisance,
Whose mind has dissolved into the formless;
In whom the delusion of the world of differences is shattered
And in whom the flame of renunciation is resplendent.
You may have obtained nama, but without Rama
Your title of Vaishnava is like a cradle in a childless home
Or a marriage procession without the groom!

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Patrick White

I Have Run My Heart Aground

I have run my heart aground
like the keel of the moon on the coral
and the memory of women I once loved
hurts me today
like blowback from the furnaces of autumn
that went out years ago.

It's easier to train a dove than a crow
and I was a reluctant dragon
trying not to roil the water in my wake.

Doubting that forgiveness is ever real,
I give it and ask it
and discharge us all
from the degenerating orbits
of all the radiant photons that reversed their spin
to take one long last look at us
as we unspooled like glaciers
at each others' feet.

Eventually we're all just flavours of space.
And you have to open your hand to hang on,
and learn to live with a heart that tolls
like a bell or an oyster
after its pearl has been plundered
and look upon dark, intimate things without a voice.

I have dug deeper than my own bones to get at the truth
as if I were an abandoned civilization
with nothing left standing
but a succession of meaningless gates
that no one waits by anymore to meet me.

I have added my skull like the moon to the darkness
to appeal more deeply to the nightside of life
that she might reveal
why she always hides me under the bed
when I knock on her door from the outside,
hoping she'll unlock herself like a coffin
and raise the dead.

I may be a starmap blowing down a road on the moon,
but there's no wind, no one to walk it,
no arrival, no departure
no threshold before me, and none behind.

In the light of the silent ferocity
of a black star longing in the distance for contact,
I have intensely held certain, lethal questions
up to my throat like a phase of the moon
and held myself hostage to the answers
until I fell in love with my torment
and all these ransom notes turned into poems.

It's a quaint myth of origin,
and even a delusion is some kind of direction,
and who's to say the stars
aren't in need of correction themselves?
And it isn't as if one mirage
were more sufficient than another,
it's just that we long for the unattainable through them
like kites that have run out of atmosphere,
and the lie that heals is truer than the one that doesn't.

So we insisted on being in love
as wave after wave
we tried to bridge continents
to keep our hearts from flatlining.

What a riot of sorrow and sex and poetry
swung us like bells when we walked
out of our bomb-proof cathedrals
into the intimate dangers of our own lyrical intensities,
gouging the eyes out of the constellations we rolled like dice
against the writing on the wall.

Love's a big, sloppy sky
that smothers you like fog on the ocean
when it collapses like a parachute
at the end of a sustained fall.

Everyone lets go of their demons
like kites in a hurricane,
like blossoms from an orchard,
like flakes of ancient flint
as the heart naps its arrowhead of ice
in the shadows of the sacred night fire
that exhumes the phoenix from the flesh.

Looking back, I am humbled by the memory
of how much I couldn't see
through a painted window
while the moon waited for rain among the willows,
but sooner or later you make peace
with everyone you can't be
and sign a truce with everyone you are
and drown your sword in your own blood
like a holy war you can't win
and keep trying to embody wisdom until you disappear
like a homeless bird in the clarity,
so perfectly isolated by everything you've ever loved
even the sky you fly through
can't fit itself like skin
around the enormity of the tear
that hordes its most intimate fire
like a flame thrust into the darkness of an afterlife
where the eras and the headstones,
the faces under the bedstones,
thaw like lockets of ice.

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This Aching Heart

This aching heart shall ache no more
For you, its ached too long
I told you my feelings clean cut and raw
And my pain you just prolong

This aching heart shall love no more
It will not ever love another
At all my efforts you just guffaw
Yet, still I love you like no other

This aching heart shall beat no more
For you, its beat too long
This is the day that I no longer abhore
myself, and learn to be strong

This aching heart shall ache no more
For my heart you are no longer in
This achign heart shall ache no more
I have a new life to begin

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Sorry I do not have a foolish heart

Sorry I do not have a foolish heart
Loving her when she loves him
Loving her when she fits him
Loving her when the stars made her for him

I keep a love that loves someone who loves me
I keep a love that makes the other grow
I love the love that loves me in return

Sorry I do not have a foolish heart like hers
She loves him but he loves the other
She keeps him walls
she puts him in a cage
He runs he escapes he keeps on calling the other
She loves him but he does not love her and she keeps insisting

Sorry I do not keep a foolish heart.
That indeed makes my love so fair.

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Strong To My Core

I'm impressed with the ease by which
you could sit back and idly observe,
while I was degraded and demeaned
by he who attempted to create the illusion
of superiority

His antagonistic approach?

Clearly and purposely personal,
far beyond the realm of necessity,
complete with snide comments
and a mocking smirk

I may have stumbled, wavered
and lost balance...
...even questioned my value
as a woman

...But I did not crumble

You may have shattered my heart,
my dreams, my love...

...But you clarified any doubts
I may have had that there was love
for me within your cold heart...

...And that, alone, was worth
all the heartache...

2010

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