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Eleth

Give him the reward that he has earned and,
Let me go on my way;
And like my lover in Albania who dwells alone,
For the High Society is full of nakedness!

Call in Eleth and let me lead you on,
And light up your eyes and look upon my fields!
For they are already white for harvest,
And the reward is given in line with what you've earned.

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The Light In Your Eyes

Life can take your dreams and turn them upside down
Friends will talk about you when you're not around
Reality can really cut you down to size
But don't ever lose that light in your eyes
Don't ever lose that light in your eyes.

People make you promises they'll never keep
Soon you'll know why people say talk is cheap
And life resembles on big compromise
But don't ever lose that light in your eyes

Keep on shining

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The Lady Of La Garaye - A Threnody

HOW Memory haunts us! When we fain would be
Alone and free,
Uninterrupted by his mournful words,
Faint, indistinct, as are a wind-harp's chords
Hung on a leafless tree,--
He will not leave us: we resolve in vain
To chase him forth--for he returns again,
Pining incessantly!
In the old pathways of our lost delights
He walks on sunny days and starlit nights,
Answering our restless moan,
With,--'I am here alone,
My brother Joy is gone--for ever gone!
Round your decaying home
The Spring indeed is come,
The leaves are thrilling with a sense of life,
The sap of flowers is rife,
But where is Joy, Heaven's messenger,--bright Joy,--
That curled and radiant boy,
Who was the younger brother of my heart?
Why let ye him whom I so loved depart?
Call him once more,
And let us all be glad, as heretofore!'

Then, urged and stung by Memory, we go forth,
And wander south and north,
Deeming Joy may yet answer to our yearning;
But all is blank and bare:
The silent air
Echoes no pleasant shout of his returning.
Yet somewhere--somewhere, by the pathless woods,
Or silver rippling floods,
He wanders as he wandered once with us;
Through bright arcades of cities populous;
Or else in deserts rude,
Happy in solitude,
And choosing only Youth to be his mate,
He leaves us to our fate.
We hear his distant laughter as we go,
Pacing, ourselves, with Woe,--
Both us he hath outstripped for evermore!
Seek him not in the wood,
Where the sweet ring-doves ever murmuring brood;
Nor on the hill, nor by the golden shore:
Others inherit that which once was ours;
The freshness of the hours,--
The sparkling of the early morning rime,
The evanescent glory of the time!

With them, in some sweet glade,
Warm with a summer shade,
Or where white clover, blooming fresh and wild,
Breathes like the kisses of a little child,
He lingers now:--we call him back in vain
To our world's snow and rain;
The bower we built him when he was our guest
Life's storms have beaten down,
And he far off hath flown,
And buildeth where there is a sunnier nest;
Or, closing rainbow wings and laughing eyes,
He lieth basking 'neath the open skies,
Taking his rest
On the soft moss of some unbroken ground,
Where sobs did never sound.
Oh! give him up: confess that Joy has gone:
He met you at the source of Life's bright river;
And if he hath passed on,
'Tis that his task is done,
He hath no future message to deliver,
But leaves you lone and still for ever and for ever!

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Khalil Gibran

The Life of Love XVI

Spring


Come, my beloved; let us walk amidst the knolls,
For the snow is water, and Life is alive from its
Slumber and is roaming the hills and valleys.
Let us follow the footprints of Spring into the
Distant fields, and mount the hilltops to draw
Inspiration high above the cool green plains.


Dawn of Spring has unfolded her winter-kept garment
And placed it on the peach and citrus trees; and
They appear as brides in the ceremonial custom of
the Night of Kedre.


The sprigs of grapevine embrace each other like
Sweethearts, and the brooks burst out in dance
Between the rocks, repeating the song of joy;
And the flowers bud suddenly from the heart of
Nature, like foam from the rich heart of the sea.


Come, my beloved; let us drink the last of Winter's
Tears from the cupped lilies, and soothe our spirits
With the shower of notes from the birds, and wander
In exhilaration through the intoxicating breeze.


Let us sit by that rock, where violets hide; let us
Pursue their exchange of the sweetness of kisses.


Summer


Let us go into the fields, my beloved, for the
Time of harvest approaches, and the sun's eyes
Are ripening the grain.
Let us tend the fruit of the earth, as the
Spirit nourishes the grains of Joy from the
Seeds of Love, sowed deep in our hearts.
Let us fill our bins with the products of
Nature, as life fills so abundantly the
Domain of our hearts with her endless bounty.
Let us make the flowers our bed, and the
Sky our blanket, and rest our heads together
Upon pillows of soft hay.
Let us relax after the day's toil, and listen
To the provoking murmur of the brook.


Autumn


Let us go and gather grapes in the vineyard
For the winepress, and keep the wine in old
Vases, as the spirit keeps Knowledge of the
Ages in eternal vessels.


Let us return to our dwelling, for the wind has
Caused the yellow leaves to fall and shroud the
Withering flowers that whisper elegy to Summer.
Come home, my eternal sweetheart, for the birds
Have made pilgrimage to warmth and lest the chilled
Prairies suffering pangs of solitude. The jasmine
And myrtle have no more tears.


Let us retreat, for the tired brook has
Ceased its song; and the bubblesome springs
Are drained of their copious weeping; and
Their cautious old hills have stored away
Their colorful garments.


Come, my beloved; Nature is justly weary
And is bidding her enthusiasm farewell
With quiet and contented melody.


Winter


Come close to me, oh companion of my full life;
Come close to me and let not Winter's touch
Enter between us. Sit by me before the hearth,
For fire is the only fruit of Winter.


Speak to me of the glory of your heart, for
That is greater than the shrieking elements
Beyond our door.
Bind the door and seal the transoms, for the
Angry countenance of the heaven depresses my
Spirit, and the face of our snow-laden fields
Makes my soul cry.


Feed the lamp with oil and let it not dim, and
Place it by you, so I can read with tears what
Your life with me has written upon your face.


Bring Autumn's wine. Let us drink and sing the
Song of remembrance to Spring's carefree sowing,
And Summer's watchful tending, and Autumn's
Reward in harvest.


Come close to me, oh beloved of my soul; the
Fire is cooling and fleeing under the ashes.
Embrace me, for I fear loneliness; the lamp is
Dim, and the wine which we pressed is closing
Our eyes. Let us look upon each other before
They are shut.
Find me with your arms and embrace me; let
Slumber then embrace our souls as one.
Kiss me, my beloved, for Winter has stolen
All but our moving lips.


You are close by me, My Forever.
How deep and wide will be the ocean of Slumber,
And how recent was the dawn!

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Before the War

'Before the war,' she sighs. 'Before the war.'
Then blinks 'er eyes, an' tries to work a smile.
'Ole scenes,' she sez, 'don't look the same no more.
Ole ways,' she sez, 'seems to 'ave changed their style.
The pleasures that we had don't seem worth while
Them simple joys that passed an hour away
An' troubles, that we used to so revile,
'Ow small they look', she sez. ''Ow small today.

'This war!' sighs ole Mar Flood. An' when I seen
The ole girl sittin' in our parlour there,
Tellin' 'er troubles to my wife Doreen.
As though the talkin' eased 'er load 'uv care,
I thinks uv mothers, 'ere and everywhere,
Smilin' a bit while they are grievin' sore
For grown-up babies, fightin' Over There;
An' then I 'ears 'em sigh, 'Before the war.'

My wife 'as took the social 'abit bad.
I ain't averse - one more new word I've learned
Averse to tea, when tea is to be 'ad;
An' when it comes I reckon that it's earned.
It's jist a drink, as fur as I'm concerned,
Good for a bloke that toilin' on the land;
But when a caller comes, 'ere am I turned
Into a social butterfly, off-'and.

Then drinkin' tea becomes a 'oly rite.
So's I won't bring the family to disgrace
I guts a bit 'uv coachin' overnight
On ridin' winners in this bun-fed race.
I 'ave to change me shirt, an' wash me face,
An' look reel neat, from me waist up at least,
An sling remarks in at the proper place,
An' not makes noises drinkin', like a beast.

''Ave some more cake. Another slice, now do.
An' won't yeh 'ave a second cup uv tea?
'Ow is the children?' Ar, it makes me blue!
This boodoor 'abit ain't no good to me.
I likes to take me tucker plain an' free:
Tea an' a chunk out on the job for choice,
So I can stoke with no one there to see.
Besides, I 'aven't got no comp'ny voice.

Uv course, I've 'ad it all out with the wife.
I argues that there's work that must be done.
An' tells 'er that I 'ates this tony life.
She sez there's jooties that we must not shun.
You bet that ends it; so I joins the fun,
An' puts 'em all at ease with silly grins
Slings bits uv repartee like ''Ave a bun,'
An' passes bread an' butter, for my sins.

Since I've been marri'd, say, I've chucked some things,
An' learned a whole lot more to fill the space.
I've slung all slang; crook words 'ave taken wings,
An' I 'ave learned to entertain with grace.
But when ole Missus Flood comes round our place
I don't object to 'er, for all 'er sighs;
Becos I likes 'er ways, I likes 'er face,
An', most uv all, she 'as them mother's eyes.

'Before the war,' she sighs, the poor ole girl.
'Er talk it gets me thinkin' in between,
While I'm assistin' at this social whirl. . . .
She comes across for comfort to Doreen,
To talk about the things that might 'ave been
If Syd 'ad not been killed at Suvla Bay,
Or Jim had not done a bunk at seventeen,
An' not been heard uv since 'e went away.

They 'ave a little farm right next to us
'Er and 'er husband - where they live alone.
Spite uv 'er cares, she ain't the sort to fuss
Or serve up sudden tears an' sob an' moan,
An' since I've known 'er some'ow I 'ave grown
To see in 'er, an' all the grief she's bore,
A million brave ole mothers 'oo 'ave known
Deep sorrer since them days before the war.

'Before the war,' she sez. 'Yeh mind our Syd?
Poor lad. . . . But then, yeh never met young Jim
'Im 'oo was charged with things 'e never did.
Ah, both uv you'd 'ave been reel chums with 'im.
'Igh-spirited 'e was, a perfect limb.
It's six long years now since 'e went away
Ay, drove away.' 'Er poor ole eyes git dim.
'That was,' she sighs, 'that was me blackest day.

'Me blackest day! Wot am I sayin' now?
That was the day the parson came to tell
The news about our Syd. . . . An', yet, some'ow . . . .
My little Jim!' She pauses for a spell. . . .
'Your 'olly'ocks is doin' reely well,'
She sez, an' battles 'ard to brighten up.
'An' them there pinks uv yours, 'ow sweet they smell.
An' - Thanks! I think I will 'ave one more cup.'

As fur as I can get the strength uv it,
Them Floods 'ave 'ad a reel tough row to how.
First off, young Jim, 'oo plays it high a bit,
Narks the ole man a treat, an' slings the show.
The come the war, an' Syd 'e 'as to go.
'E run 'is final up at Suvla Bay
One uv the Aussies I was proud to know.
An' Jim's cracked 'ardy since 'e went away.

'Er Jim! These mothers! Lord, they're all the same.
I wonders if Doreen will be that kind.
Syd was the son 'oo played the reel man's game;
But Jim 'oo sloped an' left no word be'ind,
His is the picter shinin' in 'er mind.
'Igh-spirited! I've 'eard that tale before.
I sometimes think she'd take it rather kind
To 'ear that 'is 'igh spirits run to war.

'Before the war,' she sez. 'Ah, times was good.
The little farm out there, an' jist us four
Workin' to make a decent liveli'ood.
Our Syd an' Jim! . . . Poor Jim! I grieves me sore;
For Dad won't 'ave 'im mentioned 'ome no more.
'E's 'urt, I know, cos 'e thinks Jim 'urt me.
As if 'e could, the bonny boy I bore. . . .
But I must off 'ome now, an' git Dad's tea.'

I seen 'er to the gate. (Take it frum me,
I'm some perlite.) She sez, 'Yeh mustn't mind
Me talkin' uv Jim, but when I see
Your face it brings 'im back; 'e's jist your kind.
Not quite so 'an'some, p'r'aps, nor so refined.
I've got some toys uv 'is,' she sez. 'But there
This is ole woman's talk, an' you be'ind
With all yer work, an' little time to spare.

She gives me 'and a squeeze an' turns away,
Sobbin', I thort; but then she looks be'ind,
Smilin', an' wavin', like she felt reel gay,
I wonders 'ow the women work that blind,
An' jist waves back; then goes inside to find
A lookin'-glass, an' takes a reel good look. . . .
''Not quite so 'an'some, p'r'aps, nor so refined!'
Gawd 'elp yeh, Jim,' I thinks. 'Yeh must be crook.'

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A Week That Was

This week has been not a very fun one,
With all its ups and downs.
First, it started with good news,
an email to say I had been awarded
another award for my poetry,
and then a friend tells me
they are leaving PH for a while.
Bad new for me there.
On Monday, I became a great granddad,
help! I am getting old!
My hair is getting grey and is beginning to fall out.
However, that was good news,
a little gift from heaven
called Emily Mae if I may be so bold.
My job is on a knife edge
with not knowing if I’ve got one or not,
and today I find another friend
has been driven’ away from PH because of harassment.
I hate to think what tomorrow will bring
being Friday the 13th.


12 July 2007

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The Face Of Anger

somehow in the mirror your face of anger
has distorted the lines of your face
you have changed
the dark hues of hate in horrible reds
have changed your hair into locks of fire
your eyes do not see clearly now
as they are full of cinders
your words are all screaming and
unintelligible
we like to help you regain the face of God
our waters of compassion are not quenching
our love have been all useless
you try to burn whatever you touch
and leave ashes of them on the grounds
do not blame everyone that abandons you
under the circumstances
it is the wisest and the most practicable choice
you consume yourself alone
hate has owned you
you have become another casualty of evil
and we are nothing
but helpless spectators.

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Long Distance II

Though my mother was already two years dead
Dad kept her slippers warming by the gas,
put hot water bottles her side of the bed
and still went to renew her transport pass.

You couldn't just drop in. You had to phone.
He'd put you off an hour to give him time
to clear away her things and look alone
as though his still raw love were such a crime.

He couldn't risk my blight of disbelief
though sure that very soon he'd hear her key
scrape in the rusted lock and end his grief.
He knew she'd just popped out to get the tea.

I believe life ends with death, and that is all.
You haven't both gone shopping; just the same,
in my new black leather phone book there's your name
and the disconnected number I still call.


Submitted by Scott Dagostino

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Winter

Come close to me, oh companion of my full life;
Come close to me and let not Winter’s touch
Enter between us. Sit by me before the hearth,
For fire is the only fruit of Winter.

Speak to me of the glory of your heart, for
That is greater than the shrieking elements
Beyond our door.
Bind the door and seal the transoms, for the
Spirit and the face of our snow-laden fields
Makes my soul cry.

Feed the lamp with oil and let it not dim, and
Place it by you, so I can read with tears what
Your life with me has written upon your face.
Bring Autumn’s wine. Let us drink and sing the
Song of remembrance to Spring’s carefree sowing,
And Summer’s watchful tending, and Autumn’s
Reward in harvest.

Come close to me, oh beloved of my soul, the
Fire is cooling and fleeing under the ashes.
Embrace me, for I fear loneliness; the lamp is
Dim, and the wine which we pressed is closing
Our eyes. Let us look upon each other before
They are shut.

Find me with your arms and embrace me; let
Slumber then embrace our souls as one.
Kiss me, my beloved, for Winter has stolen
All but our moving lips.

You are close to me, My Forever.
How deep and wide will be the ocean of slumber;
And how recent was the dawn!

By Kahlil Gibran

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Misdirection

With honest intentions I can not lie.
In a paradox below the darken sky.
Accusations of the sly.
Fingernails pry to open their coffin.
They try recruit help in a devious way.
To cast the shadow of a different light.
When your not to blame everything is okay.
But they are no shinning stars.
Not with flaws exposed in cruel an unjust manner with no foresight.
Jealousy does not create fairness.
But instead backfires in your face.
Creates demons in your place.
Humility will always overpower it.
For perfection is but limited to the human imagination.
An ego will meet rejection no matter how fare the complexion.
Scoff at what I'm saying if you want, make your taunts, put them in a box, wrap and put on it a pretty little pink bow.
Tell everybody you know what is inside.
For secrets are only meant to be kept when someone has something to hide.
Ask me something that has been verified and if it is true, I won't deny or make some plausible or implausible excuse.
Why should justify myself to a absolute stranger on rumors, or hearsay by telling them a diluted, boring, story.
When I have leave out everything so personal.
Then I become no better the one spreading the affliction.
Leave it rhetorical, let it not become another musical.
For your entertainment.
The amusement park has closed.
Can't you read the sign?
It's after hours please just go.

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Tus Ojos

Tus ojos, claro de monte
Como guitarres trovadoras, de san juan
Tus ojos, son mi suplicio
Son mi perdn, mi redencin, mi despertar
Tus ojos que me arrebatan
Son mi locura, son la plena perdicin
Tus ojos lo tienen todo
Nada me falta porque son mi bendicin
Tus ojos que tienen mi ausencia
Como dulce y fresco sereno de mar
Tus ojos son mi equilibrio
Son mi libertad
Mrame, dame fuerza y alivio
Mrame, es lo que necesito
Mrame, para tenerlo todo
Solo basta quedarme, fundida en tus ojos
Tus ojos, dulce esperanza
Remedio y cliz de ese sorbo de tu amor
Tus ojos, som mi suplicio
Son mi perdn, mi redencin, mi despertar
Tus ojos me llenan el alma
No hay otra riqueza no tengo temor
Tus ojos dulces benditos
Son mi devocin
Mrame, que es la paz tu mirada
Mrame, que mi dicha no alcanza
Mrame, que la luz y la calma
Que me brindan tus ojos, tranquilizan mi alma
(translation:
(your eyes)
Your eyes are like a clearing in the woods
They sing like troubadour guitars
Your eyes are my torment
They are my forgiveness, my redemption,
My awakening
Your eyes, though theyre turned away
Are like sweet, fresh ocean mist
Your eyes are my equilibrium
They are my freedom
Your eyes that drive me crazy
They are my madness with one look Im lost
Your eyes have everything, I need nothing
Because they are my blessing
Your eyes fill my soul
There are no other riches, I have no fears
Your eyes, sweet blessed
They are my devotion
Look at me, give me strength and relieve me
Look at me, its what I need
Look at me, to have everything, all I need to do
Is melt in your eyes
Look at me, you give me peace
Look at me, my fortune couldnt be greater
Look at me, that the light and tranquility
Of your eyes
Calms my soul )

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A Letter From Baby, To Guzel (an excerpt from current somniations...)

Guzel,

You have pointed to MY actions as destructive; MY actions were just REACTIONS to YOUR actions; You deceived everyone BECAUSE you were scared, which pushed you away from the 'love of your life'-ME! MY actions are, and have only ever been bourne out of selfless love and and a boundless concern for you; YOUR actions, ON THAT day were the destructive actions; THEY are the only thing that caused all of what followed, for the brief time that both of us were NOT ourselves.

WHY would you destroy something so beautiful, because you are scared? All you needed to do was, say: 'Moe, I am scared! '-to which I would have replied something like: 'OK, no problem-the solution is to slow down and reassess, to ensure you are NOT scared again.' MAYBE THAT is what you should have, and what I would have, done! YOUR actions since that day tell me and the world, that you WANT to fix what YOU broke; namely, NOW, due YOUR actions, EVERYONE with a 'need to know' of MY past does (ALL AT ONCE) and THAT is dead, and? ? ? s they may have NOW, are for me and ME alone; YOUR burden is done my beloved!

I need YOU to understand that though you effectively betrayed me, as well as yourself by NOT being wholly honest about how you REALLY feel, I AM NOT angry, I understand completely NOW why you did what you did, and when and how you did it! I know more than anyone WHY! ! I know more about you than perhaps anyone else in the world, perhaps even YOU! YOU were NOT ready to come here, consort with BOTH our families under the BURDEN of YOUR secret about what HAPPENED to ME! ! I understand, not only because I love you, but because I am pretty insightful as well!

As time marches from that tragic day just before Christmas, the truth, the REAL TRUTH settles and the deceit as well as my 'baggage' fades; Speaking of such-both your past and mine have only strengthened us, they are NOT burdens for each, they are NOT cloaks behind which to hide-they ARE ways that we have learned lessons and gained much strength!

GOD and YOU and alone control both your own destiny, as well as how others view you and those you love most ardently-people are capable of much love, as you well know, through me, as well as others. YOUR friends and family effectively were MORE ambushed MORE than I, BY YOU! But again, the damage has been done, the coast is now clear and the 'drama' is gone. NOW, I only possess a 'sordid' past which includes an 'ex-wife' and TWO beautifully inspiring Daughters. JUST THE WAY YOU LIKE IT! ! (*as you said to me 8 January 2012*) . I HAVE NEVER seen WHAT I know about YOU as baggage, but as PROOF of your strength-now show the world how strong you really are!

Stop running FROM your love and TOWARD YOUR fear, reverse the course, er, curse and come back to friendship, then perhaps love at YOUR speed, it IS real, it IS true and YOU are LOVED!

-Baby

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A Droplets Ripple In The Ocean

Having chased Knowledge down and feasted upon her dissected corpse
They are left awaiting the flavour of Wisdoms flesh.
Never to know that they are wishing for tomorrows sorrow today
They are as cursing themselves with the words they say.

The past is before us now as clear as an azure sky
The future untold behind us as we try within the present to rise
And through contemplation may we know the secret surprise
That awaits us at the moment of descent when we die.

A droplets ripple in the ocean is felt in the smile of a child’s emotion
And we are heard, our voices echoing throughout the stars
And unknown gods behold the wisdom of our ancients
Upon the breeze moving tenderly through celestial mansions.

They hear the songs we sing, they know too well of the love we bring
They know to that we are as wingless angels willing to rise
Dreamers unwilling to close our eyes to the reality that we were born to fly.

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Too Many Have Suppressed Their Depressions

Too many have suppressed their depressions.
And had shied away from expressing they are upset.
Protesters seem to be doing their best,
To be civilized with the hiding of their regrets.
With a wish they had not let themselves,
Gather into the streets to protest a greed.
When those homeless and needing to eat,
And a place to sleep...
Should have long ago sent warnings,
How those who are obviously in need...
Could be easily ignored by those who continue,
To feast as if nothing else is noticed.

Too many have suppressed their depressions.
And no longer shy away from expressing they are upset.
Protesters seem to be doing their best,
To be civilized with the hiding of their regrets...
With a wish they had not let themselves,
Gather into the streets to protest a greed.
Believing themselves to be right.
Because they are mostly...
Well,
Fighters for fading entitlements...
That are being erased from their eyesights.

And if this was not happening to them at all,
It would be poverty as usual...
For 'those' people to experience.
You know...
The ones too lazy to get a job.
Or find a decent wage to feed themselves and families.
Under a roof they can afford.
You know...
'Those' people who had never been accepted,
By the whims of 'them' with their selected druthers.

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Little thing

The sky was overcast with clouds
The movement was making heavy sound
As if the rain god had come out for round
To attack the earth from all direction on ground

Every year same scene is repeated
We are caught unaware and cheated
In real sense we are defeated
But alas! It is with joy that we have always awaited

In defeat we have joy and happiness
There is bright shine on everybody's face
What a relief from tyrant summer?
Cry from birds when it has turned cooler

Nature has two kinds of eyes
One always ready for destruction and tries
Another for spreading love and prosperity
A mission with special message from almighty

Miles of land come up with green carpet
No one can afford if that comes little late
Millions of lives take slow breathe and enjoy
Pray the rain god for mercy and not to annoy

I see it happen every year
Lot of sound tries to tear apart ears
Yet there is no worry or fear
No one prays for sky to clear

Millions more come to life again
Make their presence known and walk in chain
Some of them have existence for hours
As if they are on earth for simple tour

Yes it is life all over with good hope
There can't be any break or stop
God has granted special lease to visit earth
Making it known that certainty is death

Live on earth for whatever period is granted
Pray in his praise with hymns chanted
Spread his message of love and expect nothing
There is always in store for little thing

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To Mignon

OVER vale and torrent far
Rolls along the sun's bright car.
Ah! he wakens in his course

Mine, as thy deep-seated smart

In the heart.
Ev'ry morning with new force.

Scarce avails night aught to me;
E'en the visions that I see
Come but in a mournful guise;

And I feel this silent smart

In my heart
With creative pow'r arise.

During many a beauteous year
I have seen ships 'neath me steer,
As they seek the shelt'ring bay;

But, alas, each lasting smart

In my heart
Floats not with the stream away.

I must wear a gala dress,
Long stored up within my press,
For to-day to feasts is given;

None know with what bitter smart

Is my heart
Fearfully and madly riven.

Secretly I weep each tear,
Yet can cheerful e'en appear,
With a face of healthy red;

For if deadly were this silent smart

In my heart,
Ah, I then had long been dead!
-----
THE MOUNTAIN CASTLE.

THERE stands on yonder high mountain

A castle built of yore,
Where once lurked horse and horseman

In rear of gate and of door.

Now door and gate are in ashes,

And all around is so still;
And over the fallen ruins

I clamber just as I will.

Below once lay a cellar,

With costly wines well stor'd;
No more the glad maid with her pitcher

Descends there to draw from the hoard.

No longer the goblet she places

Before the guests at the feast;
The flask at the meal so hallow'd

No longer she fills for the priest.

No more for the eager squire

The draught in the passage is pour'd;
No more for the flying present

Receives she the flying reward.

For all the roof and the rafters,

They all long since have been burn'd,
And stairs and passage and chapel

To rubbish and ruins are turn'd.

Yet when with lute and with flagon,

When day was smiling and bright,
I've watch'd my mistress climbing

To gain this perilous height,

Then rapture joyous and radiant

The silence so desolate brake,
And all, as in days long vanish'd,

Once more to enjoyment awoke;

As if for guests of high station

The largest rooms were prepared;
As if from those times so precious

A couple thither had fared;

As if there stood in his chapel

The priest in his sacred dress,
And ask'd: "Would ye twain be united?"

And we, with a smile, answer'd, "Yes!"

And songs that breath'd a deep feeling,

That touched the heart's innermost chord,
The music-fraught mouth of sweet echo,

Instead of the many, outpour'd.

And when at eve all was hidden

In silence unbroken and deep,
The glowing sun then look'd upwards,

And gazed on the summit so steep.

And squire and maiden then glitter'd

As bright and gay as a lord,
She seized the time for her present,

And he to give her reward.

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Socially An Accepted Activity

Does it really make a difference,
If carpenter ants or termites...
Are responsbile for the effects,
Of a crumbling structure known?
Both can gnaw galleries,
In dead or decayed wood.
Termites are often pale colored,
And live in colonies.
Maybe because they are called white ants...
And the carpenter ones are black.
Perhaps that is the reason,
When they destroy with ultimate devastation...
It is socially an accepted activity,
Than 'if' their presence had been of color.

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What looks in (windows and rain)

Rain upon windows…
Dark bedroom walls

Shimmering pastel mists
down shadowed halls

Windows of ebon black…
and cold Crystal light

Transparently solid through
Both dark and night

Seemingly liquid… in rivulets
Of slithers of rains

Silver sheet of mercury
Over fevered panes

Half seen reflections
enshroud the palpable dark

And imagined…(or real) things
Seem to quiver, dance and spark

Leaves strike... then flee
Tossed by cold fingers of wind

Tree branches rap upon the glass
as if wanting to come in

Pull covers o’er your head
Scrinch closed your eyes e’er so tight

Tis only windows they are
So no real reason for fright

But… for what looks back in
Through your windows tonight

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Moments Arent Moments

Tender, warm and serene
Are the words that might come close to having
Remnants of the feelings that we can no longer hide
Mighty, shining and clear
Are but mere expressions that dont come near
To the ever glowing eminence of light in our eyes tonight
cause moments arent moments
Until they are moments like this magic moment of ours
And magics not magic
Until it is magic like magical love in our hearts
Feeling with tender love-bloom
Gentle, quiet, so soft
Are the wings of love that can send us off
To an ever splendor unknown to all in our time
Trusting in the unknown and giving in to what feelings have shown
Will take us to altered intimacies in our lives
Where well find
That moments arent moments
Until they are moments like this magic moment of ours
And magics not magic
Until it is magic like magical love in our hearts
Feeling with tender love-bloom
cause moments arent moments
Until they are moments like this magic moment of ours
And magics not magic
Until it is magic like magical love in our hearts
Feeling with tender love-bloom
(repeat twice)

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I love my country very dearly, and I greatly resent the implication that some of the places that I have sung and some of the people that I have known, and some of my opinions, whether they are religious or philosophical, make me less of an American.

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Some time

Last night, my darling, as you slept,
I thought I heard you sigh,
And to your little crib I crept,
And watched a space thereby;
And then I stooped and kissed your brow,
For oh! I love you so--
You are too young to know it now,
But some time you shall know!

Some time when, in a darkened place
Where others come to weep,
Your eyes shall look upon a face
Calm in eternal sleep,
The voiceless lips, the wrinkled brow,
The patient smile shall show--
You are too young to know it now,
But some time you may know!

Look backward, then, into the years,
And see me here to-night--
See, O my darling! how my tears
Are falling as I write;
And feel once more upon your brow
The kiss of long ago--
You are too young to know it now,
But some time you shall know.

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