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Dr. Jasper didn't care if they got their checkups, their medications.

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Didn't Care

You didn't care,
when I was alone,
fighting with,
me in your absence.
You didn't share,
your laughter, grief,
your sojourn...
I knitted a sweater,
for you,
with white and
sky blue.
You didn't come in winter.
Still now, it's with me.
You know, I have in my hair,
a flash of silver white!
Soon, I'll need spec,
to read your poems.
Oh! I forgot to tell,
you one thing, hmm.silly
though, no won't tell,
you will laugh then.
Everyday, I write a poem
thinking of you!
You told once, my poems
are rubbish!
But, believe me, I write,
squeezing my blood,
from my love for you!
If you won't talk,
well, I'll be speaking
aloud, rather, under,
the gulmohar tree,
under its bunch of
red flowers, or,
under any leafless tree,
one which you will prefer...
But, we must meet..
someday,
any day,
as it has been
fixed by God!

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If I Didn't Care

I know there's time,
I know there's time,
I know there's time,
For us,
I know there's time
If I didn't care,
Would it be the same?
If I didn't care,
Would I feel this way?
If this isn't love,
Then why do I thril?
And what makes my head go round and round,
While my heart stands still?
If I didn't care,
Would it be the same?
Would my every prair
Begin and end with just your name?
And could I be sure that this is love
Beyond compare?
Would all this be true
If I didn't care for you?
If I didn't care?
I know there's time,
I know there's time,
I know there's time,
for us,
I know there's time
If I didn't care,
More than words can say,
If I didn't care,
Would I feel this way?
And if this isn't love,
Then why do I thrill?
And what makes my head go round and round,
While my heart stands still?
I know there's time,
I know there's time,
I know there's time,
for us,
I know there's time
I know there's time,
I know there's time,
I know there's time,
for us,
I know there's time
I know there's time,
I know there's time,
I know there's time,
for us,
I know there's time

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She Loved Me; I Loved Her Not

She was not the prettiest flower in the bouquet
but she had a perfumed heart

which shone through in a radiant smile and gentle nature;
she loved me dearly.

I, I awakened to puberty blinded by blond curls
and cheerleader bodies

and to those nasty girls
who flirted with my hormones
shaking me into the boy-way and impure thoughts;

sometimes at the wrong time
as the girls filed by us boys
we both on our
way to the gym and my embarrassment.

Where sometimes I had to skip gym and make excuses.
Audrey watched from afar;

I was not so much oblivious of how she felt
and I felt she was nice but, too nice

to be despoiled by what I wanted from girls
I wanted the fast girls because fast knows fast

and I was definitely fast in my sloppy jeans.

So like attracted like.

Like bears and honey

And like bears and honey

I didn't care if I got stung
I wanted honey.

Every boy in my school wanted the same three girls;

every girl in my school wanted the same three boys

the rest of us were bystanders, spectators and critics

to scenes we were not part of

not even able to offer solace to others like ourselves because

to be in the not-popular group was to be a social failure;

and who wants to associate with social failures-
no one that's who.

Being seen together

only drew attention to your failed status in life.

No one wants that right?

Audrey stood by watching me hunger for the popular girls

particularly Carly
who was my female succubus,

who could arouse in me
such that at times I dared not stand up.

Carly was the one who knew how to flirt

how to move my hormones with just a glance;

how to flip her hair

how to bend over to pick up that mythical pencil

how to always look available

whether she had a boyfriend or not

how to perform in lunch-room theater

scenes of a princess eating

several kinds of food stuffs from soup to hotdogs,

to ice cream cones

which drove the boys crazy

where Life would stand still for the boys and the girls
and also for some male faculty members
who too would
become frozen in time
whenever Carly, took up her comestibles.

The girls watched too angry-eager to learn how to imitate
-envious critical condemning, castigating
totally in awe of what Carly could do to boys.

She had the gift of innocent sexuality,
no better, the gift of a innocent playful sexuality
naughty but not seedy,
a young girl in a woman's body,
natural senuous movements which gave promise
of her inner woman to be.

She was of course learning of her ability
to attract boys and men
but her learning was so public
and she learned to accommodate the stares and
mini-hatreds and lusts of others
on the stage she had placed upon
which made her internal development public out of necessity.

She was used to all eyes upon her.

And even then I realized that Carly was also a symbol of how everything and anything could be given a sexual interpretation
not only by us boys, but the girls as well
and as well by the adults,
some of whom hated Carly's natural sexuality
and other adults there
who hated her
and that very same sexuality
as a sign of the devils work
or worse,
made them feel that sexuality
against their will-same as the young boys.

No one it seemed was immune
from the powerful pull of Carly's natural sexuality.

Carly lived in the middle of this maelstrom.

I found Audrey one Friday
(Carly and her popular group came to the cafeteria
only on Fridays,
hence her appearances were extra special
to all concerned
since they were not frequent.)

One day, as I was saying,
I saw Audrey outside the cafeteria
and the moment her eyes met mine

she started to cry.

Not understanding
I asked her what was the matter.

'Nothing.' she said turning away
but that was the first day I started to see her

as a real person,
not a girlfriend mind you
rather I started to see her as a comrade in suffering.

I vowed to ask her who she was in love with
assuming she shared my predicament.

And I thought we could help each other.

I thought I would call her.

Without further words Audrey walked away
humiliated but happy so happy that I had noticed her.

She vowed that she would fight for me

she would walk up to me in the school corridor
and kiss me on the cheek;
that is what she would do
to make me understand how she felt about me.

To make me see that she was the one
who loved me

that really understood me.

That is what she decided to do

That night she planned it out:

Lip gloss, short skirt, tight top,
she would be a new Audrey and get my attention

and make me forget the nasty girls.

To be continued

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The great writers just kept bringing them out. They didn't care if they repeated themselves.

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Someone Once Told Me

Someone once told me
What an uncle did to
his nephew

Someone once told me
What the uncles brother
did to a young girl

Someone once told me
That their mother and sister
didn't care, because
they let them near the young
and the frail

Someone once told me
The guilty always get away

Someone once told me
They'll never pay

Now I'm telling someone
It's time to pay
Because justice is coming
and it's here to stay

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Dreaming

Chorus 1:
Dreaming of you
Dreaming every day and
every night of my life
But someone else is holding you tight
So I'll see you in my dreams girl

Have you ever wanted someone so bad
That you really didn't care if they had
Any idea how you feel
('cause your dreams are so real)

Chorus 2:
Please help me
(to understand this feeling)
I'm dreaming (your body so appealing)
You're committed to someone else
But here in my mind

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Love Me Like A Man

The men that I've been seeing
Well they got their soul up on a shelf
You know they could never love me
Cuz they can't even love themselves
But I want someone to love me
Baby I want one to understand
Won't put himself above me
Who can love me like a man
I never seen such losers
Even though I tried
Find a mind to take me home instead of
Taking me for a ride
Baby, I use someone to care
Believe it when I tell you darlin'
You can love me like a man
Oh they want me to rock them
Like my back ain't got no bone
I want a man whose gonna rock me
Like my backbone was his own
Baby, I want to wait until you can
Believe it when I tell you darlin'
You can love me like a man
Come home sad and lonely
Feel like I wanna cry
Come over here and hold me baby
And don't ever ask the reason why
I said I, I want a lover
Won't have to work to understand
Don't put yourself above me baby
Love me like a man

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Erica Jong

Colder

He was six foot four, and forty-six
and even colder than he thought he was
James Thurber, The Thirteen Clocks

Not that I cared about the other woman.
Those perfumed breasts with hearts
of pure rock salt.
Lot's wives-
all of them.

I didn't care
if they fondled him at parties,
eased him in at home
between a husband & a child,
sucked him dry
with vacuum cleaner kisses.

It was the coldness that I minded,
though he's warned me.
"I'm cold," He said- (as if that helped any).
But he was colder
than he thought he was.

Cold sex.
A woman has to die
& be exhumed
four times a week
to know the meaning of it.

His hips are razors
his pelvic bones are knives,
even his elbows could cut butter.

Cold flows from his mouth
like a cloud of carbon dioxide.
Hie penis is pure dry ice
which turns to smoke.
His face hands over my face-
An ice carving.

One of these days
he'll shatter
or
he'll melt.

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Golden Gates

Written by: John Mellencamp
Ain't no golden gates gonna swing open
Ain't no streets paved in natural pearl
Ain't no angel with a harp come singin'
Leastways not that I know of in this world
In these days of uncertain futures
Who knows what the masters might do
They got their big deals goin' on, goin' on
Got nothing to do with me and you
If I could I'd get us a big suite
Overlooking the Park
Only promise I know to be true
Are the promises made from the heart
I don't need to see the whole thing go down
I don't need to see another lonely man
I don't need to see a woman crying for the savior
Holding on to some moneyman's hand
Who can I call to make my reservations
Forever thrown in the dark
The only promises I know to be true
Are the promises made from the heart
I don't believe in the authorities
They ain't gonna take care of me and you
I don't have all the strength that I need
To love the way that I want to
The only promises I know to be true
Are the promises made from the heart

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Deserve

They got money, they got sun
They look like theyre havin fun
Dont it seem its so unfair
They know something you dont know
Theyve got a better place to go
Theyre thin and rich and they dont care
We get the dreams that we deserve
The magazines that we deserve
Page one and three that we deserve
The joy and the pain that we deserve
The sun and the rain that we deserve
The material gain that we deserve
We get what we deserve
They got tension, they got stress
They got their lives in the press
The whole world stares as they undress
Sold their friends to get ahead
They do therapy instead
Theyve got demons in their bed
We get the toys that we deserve
The quiet and the noise that we deserve
The girls and the boys that we deserve
We get what we want if we really want it
We get what we want if were really honest
You know what you are
You know what you want
You know what you deserve
We get the seas that we deserve
The flowers and the trees that we deserve
The spores on the breeze that we deserve
We get what we want if we really want it
We get what we want if were really honest
You know what you are
You know what you want
You know what you deserve
You deserve
We get what we deserve
We deserve

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They Gave Their All

I may not understand the wars
Or the fields of rotting corpses

I've read all the poems
Of wars from the past

And cannot imagine
The life lived back then

A blood soaked battlefield
Death wading with glee
At those that have fallen
For the right to be free

So many souls lost in time
Fighting a cause, humanity blind
Dare I say, what I read?

In between the lines
A poet soldier
Who needs to be free?

Do I have a right?
To question their fight

They gave their all
In what they believed

Teardrops fall as I continue my rhyme
But what I do understand
Is that they fought through all the wars
So that we can be free
To choose our lives
And live to be
What we want to be

All the bloodshed fields
The entire hero's lost in wars
I bow my head, and pray to thee
Thank you all
For letting me breathe

To learn and discover
The meaning of me
Tears trickle down
As I cry for your loss
You never got the chance to be free
You never found your path in life
You never came home to your loved ones, friends, and family

So what gives us the right?
The generation of today
To say how boring
Our life is today

When those in war
Never had a full life
They gave it all
So we could be free
To live a full life

I thank the hero's
Of past, present and yet to be
What so sad for humankind
Is that war is our history

Perhaps in the future
We can see peace and harmony
Perhaps dare I say it
A world weapon free

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There Are No Pockets In A Shroud

Money makes the world go round,
I wonder who said that,
It must have been a billionaire,
A grass roots spoiled brat.

They take their lead from politicians,
Do as I say Not as I do,
They write how to fiddle editions,
As more funds they must accrue.

The rich are really all the same,
Whether they act or if they sing,
They'll always preach to you and me,
Money isn't everything.

Don't you find it really strange,
It's actually quite funny,
That the very people who make this claim,
Have all got loads of money.

Now I'm not being flippant,
Nor am I being abrupt,
But cash along with power,
Really does corrupt.

They love their yachts and fancy cars,
But you must always be aware,
Though it's you and I who make them rich,
For us they just don't care.

As they live their lives of splendour,
They ignore the plight of others,
To sharing they'll never surrender,
Their self delusion and arrogance smothers.

These greedy people the world over,
Are so obsessed with amassing wealth,
As they strive to make their trillions,
They tend to ignore their health.

Before they know it's time to go,
They shout out, we need more time,
We've got loads of lovely dosh to spend,
To take us now would be a crime.

When they arrive at Heavens gate,
They all put on a frown,
No debit cards or hard fast cash,
Just a plain white gown.

God says, on Earth you were rich and famous,
You stood out in a crowd,
But you cannot take it with you,

‘'There Are No Pockets In A Shroud''

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Gimme The Car

Come on dad gimme the car tonight
Come on dad gimme the car tonight
I got this girl I wanna....
Come on dad gimme the car
Come on dad gimme the car tonight
I tellya what Im gonna do
Im gonna pick her up
Im gonna get her drunk
Im gonna make her cry
Im gonna get her high
Im gonna make her laugh
Im gonna make her...shh
Woman, woman, woman
She gotta knows shes it
Cause Im gonna touch her
All over her body
Gonna touch her
All over her body
Gonna touch her
All over her body
Gonna touch her
All over her body
And she can touch me
All over my body
She can touch me
All over my body
She can touch me
All over my body
She can touch me
All over my body
Time goes by I can feel myself growing old
Burning inside makin this boy turn out cold
Whats wrong, whats right
I dont care when I hate my life
Whats wrong, whats right
Yknow people dont care when they hate their life
But how can I explain personal pain
How can I explain personal pain
How can I explain my voice is in vain
How can I explain the deep down
Driving, driving, driving,
Weredriving, weredriving, weredriving
Hey dad speaking of driving
Come on dad gimme the car tonight
So much he dont understand
Just might never make it to a man
Come on dad gimme the car
I aint no runt
Come on girl gimme your...
Cause I aint had much to live for
I aint had much to live for
Yknow I aint had much to live for
Yknow I aint had much to live for
Gordon gano: vocals, guitar
Brian ritchie: bass, vocals
Victor delorenzo: drums, vocal
Recorded at music works, london
*previously unreleased
gorno music reprinted with permission

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Strange Feelings..!

Glowing that natural Thermo nuclear reactor,
Feeding all, giving light and energy,
Globe that revolving with rotation,

Having that invisible veil of Gases
And that blue water
covering all that is
deeper
useful ocean where life originated,

Who told that fishes, snakes, plants and turtles,
Come out to breath fresh air! who designed lungs and legs?
Or roots and shoots with seeds and fruit?

Wonder is that how that man evolved,
After only end of tragic period
end of Tyrenic rule of dinosaurs!

How this strong brain in tiny weak body survived,
When that useless and ruthless spices erased!

How strange that this Homo sapiens survived and managed,
managed all dangers and problems he faced ?

Mostly that he learnt that only fittest can survive!
His fights and strains when failed

He might have wept and called
oh! the Greatest of Demon,
Don't you have mercy on my me
Short he made Greatest Of Demon,
G.O.D.
Oh! GOD aren't you are kind enough?
Man tried to please that who haunted him the most!

Then started rituals and and hymns to please it!
Then came people who wanted probe deep,
Called people to think and raise above sheep

They are the early philosophers,
And mathematicians,
Logical thinking was their capital,
They were able to see most of the things as they are,
Still that imperfections in logic,
Evolved another species, started thinking in different direction,
They didn't stay till they Got answers to selfsatisfaction,
Then also some jumped
and asked ' what is self, what is satisfaction?

They dived deep to see what is self,
What is the root of own existence?
What is they way for complete satisfaction,
Some are not satisfied with description,
They went in their own path,
Finally found nothing as there was nothing to explain,
As their was nothing that words can explain,
No one was there to reach
Nothing was there to see or perceive,
Only that was that screen on which everything dance,
It is that God they wanted,
And people can see in them what they wanted,
And that is that,
They had the kind, loving heart,
And they were strangle soft, yet strong,
They said they saw that truth,
And Truth is beyond all words,
It is beyond all worlds,
Yet it is with in us and that's the truth,
thinner than vacuum, solid than the blackhole,
And it is that which can create all,
Sustain all or destroy all,
And you are a dust of that,
And that solid truth is collection of all,
Universal set of universal truth,
It is beauty, Truth, and mighty of all, and your consciousness is not apart,
But truly a part not apart of it,

And that unmoved ocean which moves all
It is moving galaxies and stars at its will,
And you too are moved by it!
But it can be moved by a kind loving heart,
Because tears of such heart,
Becomes tears of its own heart!

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Patrick White

Lighting It Up And Blowing It Out

Lighting it up and blowing it out
I try to make my way through the dark
by beginning at the end
as if the coming and the going
were the same door
or good-bye were the first thing
you would say to a friend.
I approach things like a night stream
as if my death were already achieved
and behind me.
And all the atoms of my being
dancing like frenzied gnats
in the sunset glow of a last eye-beam
are certifiably primordial
and any one of them
when they lose it in the light
could begin a world.
And what can you say more of a life
that dreams of what it is
than it's the taste of the same wine
in many different cups?
And as any fox knows
the grape is always sweetest
when you can taste it with your eyes.
Though why foxes eat grapes is anyone's guess
but life makes itself up as it goes
like music in a fish's earlobes.
It feathers its themes in fire and light
and goes up in smoke
like the ghost of a tree
looking for habitable planets among the stars.
New wounds with innocent root-room for old scars.
Chalking the cue to bank the long shot
you're trying to spin off into
the deep, dark pockets
of your game-winning afterlife.
And I don't believe in much anymore
though that hasn't stopped me from crying
like a slow window trying to keep
the stars from leaking out of me
as if there were a black hole
somewhere in my heart
waiting for an iris to make it an eye
whose seeing might be a new way of healing
what can't be healed.
Once here. Here forever.
But whether we're the eternal children of forever
or just another breath on the night air
that doesn't even know we live,
even death is just another way of killing time here.
When everywhere's the center of everything else,
the centre holds,
things don't fall apart.
They disappear.
And that's the mystic art
of knowing how to make the most out of existence
by offering no resistance
to the rocks in your own mindstream
that part the waters like the thoughts
of an exile in the promised land
who can't go back the way she came.
The river can't step into the same you twice.
And in every direction
your eyes have ever burned like stars
you can see the dark jewel of your own life
from the inside
before it breaks into light.
Sometimes I'm the lonely sign
on the only path to nowhere
and others I'm positively amniotic
with the schools of my blue lucidity
the albino dolphins of the moon leap through
without a chance of changing their colour.
A flower of prophetic blood bleaches my skull.
I swallow the snakefire of my last eclipse
like a lump of coal
I'm trying to turn into a diamond
that doesn't burn
and never sloughs its skin.
Reality isn't a religion or a science,
or the back and front of a mirror
that doesn't know whose eyes its looking through.
Religion: how many angels can dance on the head of a pin?
Science: how many pins can dance on the head of an angel?
Totem poles on a telephone booth where no one ever picks up.
Voodoo dolls that hex the cause of their effects.
The apple bloom on the tree of knowledge
lets go of its flightless wings
and follows the wind
like the eyelids of unfeathered angels
who opened their eyes like flawless fruit
as they fell toward paradise
without a parachute of smokey virtue
or the scale of a snake for a vice.
Emergence into the open
like a hidden secret revealed
is the engine of evolution
that empowers the dark matter
of this incorporeal starmud
to arise like the high note of a bird
that's flown beyond the night in its voice
like light beyond its myth of origin.
And the peduncle is lost in the ensuing phylum
as a madman is lost in the scream
that woke up the asylum,
or a god is lost in his own creation.
And the mountains listen
to the holy voices
in the valleys of their shadows
they deepen as they arise
like the guests of an echoless calling
to greet the unknown host.
It's what the moon feels
when she fondles her locket of water
and memories pull at her heartstrings
like tides on earth
and music is the way she recalls
the sirens that used to sing
like the brides of empty lifeboats
that prayed like smashed guitars
for the night to sow the seedless sea with stars.
And in every fish that swims through fire
like the sacred response of life
to the longing in its own desire
she knows they got their wish.
Fireflies in the ashes of the phoenix tree.
And the eggs of cosmic words
like serpents in a bird's nest
learning to fly like dragons
that have just swallowed the moon.
And it's one thing to pull the sword from the stone
but it's a greater power than magic and proof
with no urge to rule
that summons the butterfly from its cocoon
by giving the fool who inches toward the truth
along the green branch toward the apple-bloom
that already tastes like the forbidden fruit
of some radical insight
the whole orchard in a pair of wings
and more than enough night and light on its palette
to start a revolution in seeing among the flowers
who still labour in the chains of their roots
to turn their earthbound lucidities into stars
who might look back for a change
with eyes that have gathered like water out of the shining
and taste the light in the honey
that kissed their eyelids into gold
long before the night was old
and it wasn't enough just to see them.
When you opened your eyes
in the burning clarity of your lone vision
before this matrix of space and time
gave birth to the world
you were free to be whatever you could see.
That's when the light first spoke to you
in the mother-tongue of your seeing
and your voice broke
like a secret name in the mirror
that didn't know who you were
and the moon on nightwater
the thief at the window
your breath like stars on the cold, night air
summoned the whole of being
in every particulate shard
and radiant plinth of the mirror
to drive your shining into the shadows
so myriad things can appear as they are.
Many eyes open. Night. An eclipse. One star.
And the darkness an anti-romantic
in love with the moon from afar.

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They end their flight

They end their flight
one by one---
crows at dusk.


Translated by Robert Hass

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They Created Their Own

They could not deal with truth,
So they created their own.
When those deceptions began to falter...
Low self esteem and diseased minds,
Amongst them were then condoned!
Eventually those of consciousness...
Left them to be unconsciously alone!

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Sela Ward

For me, Los Angeles, New York, where I don't know my neighbors, where people don't necessarily care if they know their neighbors, I'm missing things that truly fed my soul when I was younger, the exchanges between people, the caring and the shared history with people.

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And Me

Once again I'm all wrapped up in me
My best friend's my own worst enemy
Electricity and gravity
Oh my god now take a look at me
My life line's run by ATandT
They got their wires all up in me
Is push and pull the way it's got to be
Once again I'm all wrapped up in me and me

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Added by Lucian Velea
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A Way They Express Their Gratitude

When one allows him or herself,
To follow the dictates of a child.
Perceived by others to be mature,
But isn't.
That very same child will grow,
To believe a controlling over others is easy.
And a disrespect shown for parents left,
In convalescent homes.
Is a way they express their gratitude.

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Added by Poetry Lover
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