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We may have to have a geo-political regrouping or major geo-political changes.

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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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May I Have This Dance

Words that mean a lot to all gals
of all ages, are touched
honored, rejected or ignored
some cherish them
sometimes a magical start
a few lust or horror stories
these few words can make a night endless
when the slow song starts to play
guys eyes start to glare
a search for that special one
the nervous rattled, the mind battles
where's that special angel
across the room, down the hall
she is there in the waiting
find her and make the stroll
she may have been waiting for your move
there all alone the angel and the smile
the twinkle in her eyes
the racing of your heartbeat
that special song, could be your song
extend your arm and politely ask
May I have this dance with you
it will open a lot of doors
no matter if she accepts or denies
your courage has a merged
as she accepts, with her hand extend
bow to her as she was a princess and you a knight
a nice thank you and the dance begins
and may your dream come alive
may this dance be the first and the one to last
the angel for you to hold and to love
may the song and dance never end
her hand in yours and your arm around her waist
may you waltz to a new dawn
as the magic of romance soars
the beauty of seeing you both smiling
a soft whisper and a gentle kiss
the world is spinning
the fireworks exploding
how we all wish for this dance
once in our lives
May I have this dance, My Lady

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Theology in Extremis: Or a soliloquy that may have been delivered in India, June, 1857

"They would have spared life to any of their English prisoners who should consent to profess Mahometanism, by repeating the usual short formula; but only one half-caste cared to save himself in that way." -- Extract from an Indian newspaper.


MORITURUS LOQUITUR.

Oft in the pleasant summer years,
Reading the tales of days bygone,
I have mused on the story of human tears,
All that man unto man had done,
Massacre, torture, and black despair;
Reading it all in my easy-chair.

Passionate prayer for a minute's life;
Tortured crying for death as rest;
Husband pleading for child or wife,
Pitiless stroke upon tender breast.
Was it all real as that I lay there
Lazily stretched on my easy-chair?

Could I believe in those hard old times,
Here in this safe luxurious age?
Were the horrors invented to season rhymes,
Or truly is man so fierce in his rage?
What could I suffer, and what could I dare?
I who was bred to that easy-chair.

They were my fathers, the men of yore,
Little they recked of a cruel death;
They would dip their hands in a heretic's gore,
They stood and burnt for a rule of faith.
What would I burn for, and whom not spare?
I, who had faith in an easy-chair.

Now do I see old tales are true,
Here in the clutch of a savage foe;
Now shall I know what my fathers knew,
Bodily anguish and bitter woe,
Naked and bound in the strong sun's glare,
Far from my civilized easy-chair.

Now have I tasted and understood
That old world feeling of mortal hate;
For the eyes all round us are hot with blood;
They will kill us coolly -- they do but wait;
While I, I would sell ten lives, at least,
For one fair stroke at that devilish priest

Just in return for the kick he gave,
Bidding me call on the prophet's name;
Even a dog by this may save
Skin from the knife, and soul from the flame;
My soul! if he can let the prophet burn it,
But life is sweet if a word may earn it.

A bullock's death, and at thirty years!
Just one phrase, and a man gets off it;
Look at that mongrel clerk in his tears
Whining aloud the name of the prophet;
Only a formula easy to patter,
And, God Almighty, what can it matter?

"Matter enough," will my comrade say
Praying aloud here close at my side,
"Whether you mourn in despair alway,
Cursed for ever by Christ denied;
Or whether you suffer a minute's pain
All the reward of Heaven to gain."

Not for a moment faltereth he,
Sure of the promise and pardon of sin;
Thus did the martyrs die, I see,
Little to lose and muckle to win;
Death means Heaven, he longs to receive it,
But what shall I do if I don't believe it?

Life is pleasant, and friends may be nigh,
Fain would I speak one word and be spared;
Yet I could be silent and cheerfully die,
If I were only sure God cared;
If I had faith, and were only certain
That light is behind that terrible curtain.

But what if He listeth nothing at all
Of words a poor wretch in his terror may say?
That mighty God who created all
To labour and live their appointed day;
Who stoops not either to bless or ban,
Weaving the woof of an endless plan.

He is the Reaper, and binds the sheaf,
Shall not the season its order keep?
Can it be changed by a man's belief?
Millions of harvests still to reap;
Will God reward, if I die for a creed,
Or will He but pity, and sow more seed?

Surely He pities who made the brain,
When breaks that mirror of memories sweet,
When the hard blow falleth, and never again
Nerve shall quiver nor pulse shall beat;
Bitter the vision of vanishing joys;
Surely He pities when man destroys.

Here stand I on the ocean's brink,
Who hath brought news of the further shore?
How shall I cross it? Sail or sink,
One thing is sure, I return no more;
Shall I find haven, or aye shall I be
Tossed in the depths of a shoreless sea?

They tell fair tales of a far-off land,
Of love rekindled, of forms renewed;
There may I only touch one hand
Here life's ruin will little be rued;
But the hand I have pressed and the voice I have heard,
To lose them for ever, and all for a word?

Now do I feel that my heart must break
All for one glimpse of a woman's face;
Swiftly the slumbering memories wake
Odour and shadow of hour and place;
One bright ray through the darkening past
Leaps from the lamp as it brightens last,

Showing me summer in western land
Now, as the cool breeze murmureth
In leaf and flower -- And here I stand
In this plain all bare save the shadow of death;
Leaving my life in its full noonday,
And no one to know why I flung it away.

Why? Am I bidding for glory's roll?
I shall be murdered and clean forgot;
Is it a bargain to save my soul?
God, whom I trust in, bargains not;
Yet for the honour of English race,
May I not live or endure disgrace.

Ay, but the word, if I could have said it,
I by no terrors of hell perplext;
Hard to be silent and have no credit
From man in this world, or reward in the next;
None to bear witness and reckon the cost
Of the name that is saved by the life that is lost.

I must be gone to the crowd untold
Of men by the cause which they served unknown,
Who moulder in myriad graves of old;
Never a story and never a stone
Tells of the martyrs who die like me,
Just for the pride of the old countree.

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You Have The Soul Into Your Words

you may have the soul
into your words
you may have the oil
and the canvass and the
shapes and forms
to immortalize
what have you

something
for posterity for your immortality

but what use
is posterity
what use is this immortality?

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I Have No Poem Today

I HAVE NO POEM TODAY

I have no poem today
I’ll have no poem tomorrow
The poems have gone away
My life is filled with sorrow.

Will poems come once again?
I cannot really know
Poems may have gone forever
While I remain alone and unknown.

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I Have Chosen To Focus On My Destiny

At the crossroads,
We may have met.
But to rest and ponder,
As to which step to take next?
Remember...
I left to leave you,
Seeking no suggestions.

That is why I have had time to rest,
With a catching of my breath to move on.
And I appreciate you mentioning,
That which I should fear.
But I have chosen to focus on my destiny.
And if there was something to fear...
I have yet to notice.

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This We Have To Know

we sow seeds
but we never come back
for the future fruits,

that is not the reason
for our sowing
we sow the seeds
as we travel along
the paths of our pains

we may have sown
the confusion and those
that follow us always wonder
where we are heeding

we are heeding to a place
we have never been to
so how can we ever know
oh, we too follow

the beatings of our heart
as we fall part by part
as we keep on the start
always carrying that dart

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