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Good or Bad?

Is this world good?
Am I good?
Do I deserve to be alive?
If yes, then why should I be alive?
What reasons do I still have to be alive?
Do I have a meaning?
Am I a good soul or bad?
Is god right about giving me so much pain?
For me life is such that everyday even while being alive, I always feel dead.
Nothing and no explanation I have
As you can see everything that I am expressing is based on question marks
These marks have no ending, the end is simply not present
Since, the suffering of being alive continues to be
Good or bad?

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We Still Have Time (From The Motion Picture "Tribute")

(Theme From Tribute)
Before the laughter ended
You were a part of me
Why did I ever let the distance grow
When there is still so much of you
I need to know
But we still have time
Time to try
Yes we still have time
Before the chance
Passes by
We've got to take it
And maybe stumble and fall
But we still have time
To have it all
I don't have all the answers
I don't know where we'd start
I don't know how
We'd try to find a way
I only know
That now I need to hear you say
That we still have time
Time to try
Yes we still have time
Before the chance
Passes by
We've got to take it
And maybe stumble and fall
But we still have time
To have it all
We've got to take it
And maybe stumble and fall
But we still have time
We still have time
Yes we still have time
To have it all

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A Cursed Blessing

She came to this world
one lovely day
The wind danced and twirled
Even the sun came out to play

She grew
With a family by her side
They were stuck together like glue
But then one day, they all died

What did she have remaining?
After the Holocaust took them away
Her heart was flooded from the nonstop raining
Left alone like a stray

*She found a new life for her
In a place called America*

Her children were silent
Yet fine all the same
Her life was violent
But who else was there to blame?

*One day, a skii trip came
And she broke her leg*

*She lost her license
And was left at home alone more often*

Life is never fair
But it has a few rewards
Children and grandkids with a flare
Living life so others can too

It's hard
It's tough
Your soul has been scarred
I know it's been enough

*But there was more...*

You have lived a long time
With more pain in it than mine
I swear it's a crime
That you had to go through it all

Then you were given alzheimer's disease

And your memory was erased

You can't remember anything I said a second ago

Or who I am

But at least the bad in your life is hidden from your sight

It's good, it's bad
It's happiness, it's sad

I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse...

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Why is there pain in this world?

Why is there pain in this world?
When brothers fight brothers for no reason
Faced with the light of a gun ready to shot down there own
Yet the pain and the suffering never stops people
When the guns go off and children die

Why is there pain in this world?
When family fight when kids are looking on
Yet they never see the pain and suffering that they have caused
Yet when they see it too late time has gone
If only they notice there pain as well

Why is there pain in this world?
When the school bell has gone kids should be happy
Yet in the dark corner lays the bully ready to pound his prey
Yet the victim suffer in pain and silent’s too scared
To tell other what is going on

Why is there pain in this world?
When people are hungry when you or I have enough
Why can’t we help them try and ease the pain we can stop them being hungry
We can ease there pain and stop them from starving
Why can’t you see that when I can?

Why is there pain in this world?
When all we need to do is open are eyes and look
Yet were a nation a world that too blind to notice the pain that does not need to be
So here these words open your eyes and see if you can help.
Pain can be eased if only you believe that you can see.

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Love and Gold

Love:

True inspiration I ignite
In every poet’s heart,
I move an artist’s brush to paint
A masterpiece of art,
And everybody falls in me:
The foolish and the smart.

I am the scent of bursting bloom
And I’m the first kiss
Of passionate and tender youth,
Its harmony and bliss.
I live inside unspoiled souls
Who really care and miss.


Gold:

I am the shining of the sun,
I am its morning ray,
I live on millions stars above
And in this earthly clay,
With me ends every moonlit night
And then begins new day.

Both noble and so pure am I,
Also corrosion-free,
That’s why my glitter and my glow
In temples you can see,
And thousands people broke their backs
From depths to get me.

Love:

No matter how pure you are,
How noble you may be,
You ruin everything I do,
You are my enemy,
And down you bring those who’s sublime
From their high degree.

Lie is your tool, so is man’s greed,
Your glitter’s just a shade
Which darkens everything that’s true,
Eventually it will fade:
You’ll lose your power over man,
With you he won’t trade.

Gold:

I’m not to blame, I’m what I am:
Attracting, shining gold,
It’s not my fault that man for me
His soul to devil sold,
It’s not my fault he hunts for me
No matter young or old.

But I can be a faithful gift:
A lovely wedding ring,
Or in a craftsman’s skilful hands:
A fine and perfect thing,
Not only greed and stinginess
Into this world I bring.

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A death gap

Death is stop gap arrangement between life and non life
It may not spare anybody including husband and wife
It is new beginning for another birth somewhere else
We think so much unnecessarily in this regard and remain tense

This is the only weapon God has created to deter
The word it self may not be liked or taste sweeter
It brings gloom all of sudden and person is taken back
It breaks him from within and develops some crack

It may not go well to match with our thinking
It may give shock waves and send you sinking
Everybody is helpless and watch it with surprise
You can see them weeping at their dear one’s demise

It is very hard for them to believe in such tragic end
They will always wish for death to foes and not to friends
When it boomerangs on them they feel helpless and cry
When death can’t spare any one then why to feel shy?

The death binds people together and makes them believe in religion
It is not confined to any particular placed or region
It is universal and has its implications in different way
No matter how much may be the influential man but he has no say

It binds person to remain attached to some faith
Religion books or preaching provide him knowledge about death
It is very important for us to know then meaning of life as human
The death fear is paramount and is considered as real but common

Science has progressed so much to create parallel
They might have developed skill and excelled
No one has produced scheme to revive the dead
The message is loud and clear and must be read

The death is certain and bound to happen anytime
You may escape unhurt once in life time
It is caution signal for you to wake up
You should not consider it miracle or storm in tea cup

It may pick you up at anytime and from anywhere
Life has uncertain and has to end some where
It is said that good work may speak for itself
The philosophical answer for it is deep like sea shelf

You may want to perform so many things at a time
You may set course in action and consider it prime
Your internal desire may proved to be an oasis water
It may fail to meet your aspiration or needs to cater

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Dead, Dying and the Dreamer

Desire offered me a Joyful Blindness
new each time from the Caldron

such that I succumbed each time
moved thereby
to cheat Death himself
accepting thereby the double
conundrum
that a too intense Desire

can kill the Dream it inspires

and sometimes too, kill the Dreamer

condemning him or her perhaps
to surfing the tides of blowback

the Damocles Pillars of Blame and Time,

seeing Fate toss dice

with his life

in the back room

where secrets hold

sway

and lie down

with Soothing Regrets

who utters

"It's not your fault."

Where pressures are

presented;

where I get to

wed my Desire

where I get to

go away

into Indeterminate Time

and come back

wondering where I have been

and guilty bred I

punish those ugly muses

which time and time again

take me right back

to square one

where next time I do it all over again;
Desire's slave or consort
undetermined
yet I am

lashed to the mast

of that runaway ship

adrift with the tides

destination unknown, uncertainty

until the Final One

which is easily foreseen

in that scene

where the Reaper laughs

saying
"In the end all come to me

some crying, some denying

some defiant

some bitter draught drinkers

of their erstwhile lives

but all succumb

to my dark web at end;
yet in this
none I resent more

than types like you, " he said

"who come plumped up smiling

sated from Life's Desires.

irritating me the more than the others

because those like you enjoyed their lives

despite my entreaties

that they should not.

Nay they wed their desires
fulfilled them
willingly paying the price
in Despairs coin
because you see my friend

the Dreamers

cheat me
Death

even after they are dead.

A secret well known

but seldom recognized;
if you kill the dream,

you, too, have killed the dreamer

and their death my friend
is final;

but in those like you
those with the capacity for rampaging Desire
preceding the dream

cheat me Death
and you are my mortal enemy.

Better you humans not understand

that the secret is
better to over-sip

Desire

than not to desire at all

than not

to Dream at all.

The Desireless

are the ones I crave
because they come to me already dead.
I like the one's who have spent

their lives self-denied

because they become
for me my dead and docile
and are easily plied

Into my Marching Lines
of the Well-Disciplined
and
truly
Dead Now and Gone.
The Dreamers
alas,
I've learned
cheat me Death

because their Dream lives on
and on.

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Come and sit with me for a whil and you'll see

come sit with me for a while.
And then you can see the real me.
But then you'll see my horrible world.
Come be a shadow on the wall.
Be invisible and sit with me.

Will You see how I cry for my gran.
Will you see how I torture myself for that last agument.
Will you see how abusers have messed my head.

You will see my cry.
Come sit with me for a while.
I'll welcome you in to my quiet world.
A world of lonnliness and dispair.

But if you did come sit with me for a while'
Would you like the ral me?
The one that mkaes herself bleed.

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Only You Can Love Me This Way - Keith Urban

Well, I know there's a reason,
And I know there's a rhyme.
We were meant to be together,
That's why;
We can roll with the punches.
We can stroll hand in hand,
And when I say it's forever,
You understand,
That...
(chorus)
You're always in my heart,
You're always on my mind,
And when it all becomes too much,
You're never far behind,
And there's no one who comes close to you,
Could ever take your place,
'Cause only you can
Love me this way.
I could've turned a different corner.
I could've gone another place,
But I never had this feeling
That I feel today, yeah.
And...
(chorus)
OOOOH.
Oooh.
Somebody loves you.
And...
(chorus)
MMMMMM.
OOOOOH.
Only you can love me this way.
OOOOH.

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I'm Blessed

As I walk through a storm of pain

It only rains when people are vein.

Im so Adamant on this planet.

And People will speak malign of you.

Because they will look at you as a absolve human being.

Yes they will be jealous of your success.

So try your best in this life to past every test as you progress over stress.

My mind is like the epitome of morpheus.

Which is why you have to be smart on the people that you trust.

Having money don't make you cool its how you use it wisely.

But this world is full of aminosity so cruel with hate young people lives starts late.

Ending with fate full of hatred on this earth controlled by evil.

We hope for the lord to bring out jesus who is the messiah to save us from the fire in his desire.

And we always have relationships ending with a revelation which caused by a complication.

Thats just life and the only way you got to make it is to be smart and be amiable.

To learn things in this world that is amirable

New born infants entering in this world is like a miracle.

So be amiable not amoral because life is too short.

I'm on a cloud looking for god because they say he the key of my blessings.

Some of us live in a nightmare because dreams is what we chasing.

I'm trying look at a bigger view of what is true in my eyes.

As I look in the mirror I see a reflection of a educated man.

As I look at my rear view mirror I see the past behind me because I'm moving forward.

As I look into the sky I vision in my mind of the lord.

I am different and I am me

As you can see the epitome of a well mannered man.

I understand how we walk on this grass and leaves fall off trees.

When the wind breeze I feel the sprits are calling me.

Of my love ones that took care of me as a little boy.

Playing with nascars and micromachines toys.

We moved out of the city straight to the peaceful country of Mississippi.

Because south memphis was getting crazy nothing but buglaries and robberies in the streets.

I am blessed that I survived through everything and now I understand of being happy of what I got.

Because I have was raised to make something out of nothing.

But when my mother got robbed at gunpoint

I never even know what to do I was so young.

I was angry, but in the end I was happy that I still have her in my life.
Because their is no telling what I would became without her.

So I'm blessed of what I got and thank the lord for being my saviour.

So lets pray:

I cross my heart never lie hurtful words wont make me cry keep my family n friends in your prayers even the ones that are my traitors in jesus name amen
.

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Patrick White

I Drag On My Cigarette

I drag on my cigarette
and pull the coffee up to my mouth
as if I were officiating at a sacrament
and it were some holy bell
extolling the black wine of the bean.

I am always more in the morning
than I will be again all day
and the light is creative until precisely noon
and I am at peace in the impersonal intimacy
of flowing along like a star or a man or a leaf
in this great dynamic that never goes anywhere outside itself
like a bloodstream, a mindstream, the nightstream
that flashes in the woods like the eyes of a beautiful woman,
and yet all these worlds within worlds move with it
as fluently as thought and feeling
in a mind that is not divided by decisions
or trying to locate itself like a constellation
on a starmap in the rain,
insanely fitting every dropp
with the axis of a pin
to divine the source of the shining.

And it's always been a mystery to me
how I can be so ignorant and all-seeing simultaneously
but what keeps me alive, breathing, beating, baffled and alert,
a gust of awareness, of wheeling air and images
in a moment of joy and dispersal
where the light touches the dirt like a lover
and the dirt rises,
is this infinite instance
of an inconceivable intelligence so intimately close
the flame leaps from the fire,
and the moon falls from its flower
like the petal of an hour that overslept
and the birds are swimming in the shadow-waters of the trees
like elegant, inexhaustible pens in ink
that leave no trace on the sky of anything
beyond what the mind can think
until it stops turning the days like the pages
of a journal only the wind keeps
like autumn leaves and mindless sages
and learns from the seed-mouth how to sing
of the abundance that flows from its undoing.

Stop trying to prune the rose with its own thorns.
You can't put serpent fire out with water
or grasp a question by the neck
to milk the crescents of the moon for an antidote.
Would you put a bit in the mouth of the wave?
Would you uncoil your cravings like flypaper
to catch a star
then green it through the glass of a canning-jar?
Is the you of what you do
the you of who you are
or deep inside is there a blind jewel
that's waiting for you to turn the light around
and give it eyes
so you can see through yourself
and stop trying to net fish with the moon's reflection?

But if you think the answers will put the matter to rest,
get the world off your chest
like the shadow of the stone twin
that mimicked you into self-consciousness
and stalks you even now unseen
like a dog or the moon or eclipse of the blood
closing the mouths of the lilies that speak for the starmud,
you have not followed the questions
far enough into your life
where you have never been
to understand how little the answers really mean
when the ant moves the mountain
and the grass is green.

I stand in the furnace of the worlds like wax
and know the fury of the fire is everywhere at peace with itself,
and the only holy wars are lonely and creative.
As I am, as I am, as I am,
my singular appeal and pulse,
my homely simulacrum for the event I call me
when I knock like waves on my own door
to ask whose footprints line the shore
and only the moon's face on a threshold of water
rises like the gentile coast of a skull
to say I don't live here anymore.

You can't wash the night off
by taking a bath in an eclipse
and there are darknesses so intensely clear
that colours would only pollute the brutal purity
of the eye that dispossessed them,
poured them out like a delirium of words and wine
that could no longer dumbfound the emptiness
with the enlightened delusion of being forsakenly me.

And to say whatever this is before me now is nothing
is wrong
and to say this darkness myriads into form
and lucidly fills the world with things
is wrong,
and it is not mind or death or dark matter
nor me nor you nor God nor the devil
and yet its utter stillness mountains into mushrooms and fountains
and the whole issue is apparent in every event
like the taste of salt and stars
in the mouth of an open wound.

Is your skull honoured by what it must contain,
is the stone you lay your head upon
appalled by what it props up
when its metals reveal
the swords and crowns
you've poppied with blood,
or is your head still cooling
like mystic bread on a windowsill
like the universe
straight from the ovens of hell
in a purgatorial breeze
your goodness defanged like a whip?

Or maybe you're writing love poems
on the sails of a boney ghost ship
to a lifeboat on the moon
bobbing in a sea of shadows?
Or the leaves at your door
who show up with maps to save you
don't know what autumn is anymore
or how to follow the wind to the far shore
where the straw keeps faith with the grain
and the scarecrow is feathered with fire
and there is no distinction between joy and pain
and the stone dances as fleetly as moonlight
silvers the vein of the garden snail
that smears the slow stream of its going
across my radiant path
like the enlightened thought of a tiny brain?

Have we not already come again and again
to a place we have never existed,
is this not the effusive locus of every moment,
the inceptive finish of every breath we give back
to the sustaining intimacy of the unconceived
who nourish conception with their emptiness
and confide themselves like seeing to the seen
and shape space like water into eyes
deeper than a full eclipse of the moon?

You cannot fathom the strangeness of this moment you are,
you cannot assess the span of your being with wings
or appeal to a god like a bloodstream
you can pour yourself back into like wine
seeking tomorrow's delirium with yesterday's vine,
when the whole of creation is the merest suggestion of you
out to the furthest star
that puts itself out like a torch
in its own reflection of who you are.

You don't have to study your eyes to see
or cultivate your features like a holy book to be.
Because there is no intention in the emptiness
there is no karma to redress
and nothing to bind or separate
and no witness to affirm or deny
and nothing to diminish or enlarge
and no wisdom in the waterlily
nor ignorance in the swamp,
and the clouds let go
and the chains lay hold
and the lead doesn't taste of gold
but the union doesn't differentiate
among its exquisite distinctions
and the old woman is not old
and the cripples run
and the road outpaces the racers
like a long finish line
and there are no fractures when everything is whole
and no god when everything is.

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You Can't Feel My Pain

You can not feel my pain.
But you can see my smile.
Life is great but can be vile.
People will hate and steal your style.
Sucess is a long mile.
I am looking for gold mines in a pile.
But you can not feel my pain.
You just know my name.
We not the same.
I am human that has virtile.
My past is old as fossil.
No looking back.
If I do, I will be hurt with sorrow.
I must see tomorrow.
As faith of the lord, I must follow.

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You Can't Get This From A Seminar

You can't get this,
From a seminar.
Or fit this quick,
In a seminar.

Or manifest,
To digest.
From notes to be tested.
In a seminar...
To piece together.
Or pick apart.

This has to be seasoned.
And marinate in love.
Ingredients must cement,
Intentions meant.

No you can't get this,
From a seminar.
Nor fit this quick,
In a seminar.
To piece together.
Or pick apart.

This has to be seasoned.
And marinate in love.
No you can't get this,
From a seminar.
Nor fit this quick,
In a seminar.

Ingredients must cement...
Intentions meant.
Ingredients must cement...
Intentions meant.
No you can't get this,
From a seminar.

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Sun Song

Today is the day to take it to the top
So head for the sun and don't you stop
Until you find the place where you belong
Let your life sing the sun song.

Rivers run dry, a beach is sand
Open your mind and try to understand
Spread your wings and fly to your sun
All you've gotta do is stand up and run.

Gain some speed
Run in the right direction
Open your wings
And fly at the suns reflection
It reflects onto you so you can shine
And beams down light so you can see the signs
It heals your soul with ultra violet rays
It sings your song do you hear what it says?

Can you hear it singing the sun song
Can you feel it, its been shining to you for so long
So why don't you just fly into its open arms
Don't lose your souls sun, your suns soul charms
Of your sun song.

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WHAT IS IT, RICHARD WIDMARK...by Talile Ali

ALWAYS ON THE EDGE
NEVER ON THE FENCE
NEEDS TO BE EXPENSIVE
GOT A GOOD DEFENSE

CROSS AND CLEARLY OUT-SPOKEN
THOUGHTS YOU CAN SEE AND HEAR
TO HELL WITH AMBIGUITY
IT'S THE NOW IN HIM THAT'S CLEAR

WHAT IS IT, RICHARD WIDMARK
YOU GAVE US ALL YOU HAD
YOUR TALENT ON THE BIG SCREEN
FROM RATIONAL TO MAD

FROM LUNATICS TO HERO'S
WE ALWAYS DID BELIEVE
PERFORMANCES WERE SOLID
AND SOMETIMES ON THE SLEEVE

MASTER OF FILM NOIR
CAPTAIN OF SUSPENSE
HE'LL ME YOU BELIEVE HIM
AT YOUR OWN EXPENSE

WHAT IS IT, RICHARD WIDMARK
YOU GAVE US ALL YOU HAD
YOUR TALENT ON THE BIG SCREEN
FROM MISERABLE TO GLAD

SO I WRITE THIS SONG
TO CELEBRATE WHAT MADE YOU
THE TALENT THAT YOU WERE
YOUR IMAGES ALL WERE NEW

JAM

WHAT IS IT, RICHARD WIDMARK
YOU GAVE US ALL YOU HAD
YOUR TALENT ON THE BIG SCREEN
YOU MADE THE GOOD SEEM BAD

FADE

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12: 11 Noon (Office Break)

three cases disposed
and a chat of a friend from Bohol is finished

it has been a very busy morning
more files are coming

i composed this poem and posted it
just to mark a moment

everything is welcome here
the poetic, the non-poetic and the a-poetic

publication is free
and life after this goes on as usual as yesterday

you are afraid that soon a writer's block sets in
because you expect more from you

we are but witnesses and we write what we have seen
and felt

in fact, as you can see, when we begin to talk to ourselves
when everyone left at this hour

you will realize
there is even no audience to speak of

and that comforts us once again
that when no one is reading or watching
the dance as though it is your last
sing as though
no one likes to listen
live life
the way life wants itself to be lived

in such a short moment
let their be no rules, let every line be free
let there be only you
in this office break, and say to yourself

now i am king and now
this is my universe.

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Don't want to work in a factory

And what do you want to be
when you are older young lad?
me Sir, I want to be a footballer
or a Brickie just like my Dad.
And if not a great footballer
or a Bricklayer on building sites
I'd like to be a top wrestler
or a boxer who wins all his fights.
But I'd love to be a famous film star
and see my name up there in lights
because I'd hate to work in a factory
on a machine and doing nights.
So as you can see mister teacher
I'm not sure what I want to do
but hang on I really love animals
so I'd be a vet or work in a zoo.
Now I bet your all saying
I wonder what profession
did he finally choose?
was it a life in Hollywood movies
or did he play soccer for the Sky Blues?
Well, I never got to work with animals
and got knocked out in my first fight
failed all of my theatre auditions
too nervous called it stage fright.
Had a trial for Manchester United
but told I was not good enough
so I tried my hand at Wrestling
too skinny they said need to be big and tough.
So I never became a movie heart throb
and alas the sports world never ever knew me
all those childhood dreams never happened
so here I am working in a bloody factory!

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1-800-555-hope

With all of the technology,
And those certified with an expertise shown...
Why is there a steady decrease in a quality of life,
Once prized for standards valued?
And why is it,
An embraced sophisticated incompetence...
Has been allowed to increase,
Under the watchful eyes...
Of those using such ludicrous explanations,
To legitimize failure.

'That's a great question.
And I am quite surprised your statement...
Was not screened before this conference began.
However,
With that said...
We have come to realize,
There have been a few errors made in our assessments.
And...
This should excite you and others with 'this' revelation!

We...
Are now seeking tips, suggestions, recommendations...
And even ideas we feel that are pertinent,
From the general public.
AND...
Listen to me very carefully.
We have initiated a broader scope of inclusion,
To invite with a more prioritized vision...
To solicit the opinions of those once ostracized,
And shunned.

Please feel free to contact your nearest representative,
At 1-800-555-HOPE!
We, together, will confront the real problems,
That have generated such a waste of overlooked...
And competent talent!

So...
As you can see,
We are doing our best to get to the core of this dilemma.'

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Emptiness Is Both An Illusion And An Irony

emptiness is always an illusion
which carries with it an irony.

when i look at it, as its content shows,
it has nothing

bare hands, opening fingers,
an empty transparent ball, it can

tell your future, it can dig your
past,

thinking that it is spacious, i went
inside it, pierce myself though it

only to find that that are so many
crowding elements in there and they

are choking me and you who is looking
outside it, thinks that nothing is happening

but then the struggle is horrible, quick
and even deadly, so many hang themselves in

empty air, and lose their lives, because
you cannot see the body of breathing,

when you learn to live with it however,
you become full, emptiness is its irony,

its antithesis, for how can you ever be full
if you have never known how to empty yourself?

the face of emptiness is a mist, and you touch
it, you will hold a forest, so many black birds,

myriad exotic orchids, so many blending sounds of
trees screaming, of creeks flowing of waterfalls

cascading that you can relate to the locks of
your hair and the hairs of your armpits,

inside it is too personal to be told, outside it
are so many denials with the faces of the people

that you have loved before, and then you decide
to stay at a distance, you are like a tree

dark as a shadow, counting the hours
when the sun finally fades away.

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Nina Pretty Ballerina

Every day in the morning on her way to the office
You can see as she catches a train
Just a face among a million faces
Just another woman with no name
Not the girl youd remember but shes still something special
If you knew her I am sure youd agree
cause I know shes got a little secret
Friday evening she turns out to be...
Nina, pretty ballerina, now she is the queen of the dancing floor
This is the moment shes waited for
Just like cinderella, just like cinderella
Nina, pretty ballerina, who would ever think she could be this way
This is the part that she likes to play
But she knows the fun would go away
If she would play it every day
So shes back every morning to her work at the office
And another week to live in a dream
And another row of early mornings
In an almost never-ending stream
Doesnt talk very often, kind of shy and uncertain
Everybody seems to think shes a bore
But they wouldnt know her little secret
What her friday night would have in store...
Nina, pretty ballerina, now she is the queen of the dancing floor
This is the moment shes waited for
Just like cinderella, just like cinderella
Nina, pretty ballerina, who would ever think she could be this way
This is the part that she likes to play
She would like to play it every day
Nina, pretty ballerina, now she is the queen of the dancing floor
This is the moment shes waited for
Just like cinderella, just like cinderella
Nina, pretty ballerina, who would ever think she could be this way
This is the part that she likes to play
(fade)

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Thoughts About The Person From Porlock

Coleridge received the Person from Porlock
And ever after called him a curse,
Then why did he hurry to let him in?
He could have hid in the house.


It was not right of Coleridge in fact it was wrong
(But often we all do wrong)
As the truth is I think he was already stuck
With Kubla Khan.


He was weeping and wailing: I am finished, finished,
I shall never write another word of it,
When along comes the Person from Porlock
And takes the blame for it.


It was not right, it was wrong,
But often we all do wrong.


*


May we inquire the name of the Person from Porlock?
Why, Porson, didn’t you know?
He lived at the bottom of Porlock Hill
So had a long way to go,


He wasn’t much in the social sense
Though his grandmother was a Warlock,
One of the Rutlandshire ones I fancy
And nothing to do with Porlock,


And he lived at the bottom of the hill as I said
And had a cat named Flo,
And had a cat named Flo.


I long for the Person from Porlock
To bring my thoughts to an end,
I am becoming impatient to see him
I think of him as a friend,


Often I look out of the window
Often I run to the gate
I think, He will come this evening,
I think it is rather late.


I am hungry to be interrupted
For ever and ever amen
O Person from Porlock come quickly
And bring my thoughts to an end.


*


I felicitate the people who have a Person from Porlock
To break up everything and throw it away
Because then there will be nothing to keep them
And they need not stay.


*


Why do they grumble so much?
He comes like a benison
They should be glad he has not forgotten them
They might have had to go on.


*


These thoughts are depressing I know. They are depressing,
I wish I was more cheerful, it is more pleasant,
Also it is a duty, we should smile as well as submitting
To the purpose of One Above who is experimenting
With various mixtures of human character which goes best,
All is interesting for him it is exciting, but not for us.
There I go again. Smile, smile, and get some work to do
Then you will be practically unconscious without positively having to go.

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