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Acrostic 12. Snow.

(It’s connected with Acrostic 11.)

Sing to the fairy winter wood.
Nod, just nod the talking trees.
Open your soul to their mood.
Wander in the thoughtful fields.

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My Soul Is Connected With Yours

My soul seeking in the tumult of the world,
Looking for my spiritual soul mate, my everlasting love,
My silence lies in the harmony of your charisma,
My inspirational pursuits are within you.

My tender heart, my smiling eyes,
Are searching for you in everything and everywhere,
You are the rain and my catharsis,
I am the fire in your rain.

To give me strength and everlasting passion,
You turned my bitterness into love,
My sorrow and my pain into beauty,
My beauty smiles to you, my soul mate.

My whole life i have been seeking for you,
My laughing heart forgets all my sorrows, my pain,
When you are near, i live those throbbing moments with you,
My soul is connected with yours.

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With her touch she turned the house into a home

With her touch she turned the house into a home
transforming it as she went from room to room.
Those things that seem to go unnoticed by men
were thoughtfully arranged again and again.

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With Conflicts Perceived To Be The Goal To Reach

To comfort with a smothering of lies,
Does one thing.
It keeps the production of deceit,
Thriving to become more respected...
With conflicts perceived to be the goal to reach.
And peace?
Well...
What about it?
It has already proven not to be marketable.
Or of benefit to those greedy.

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See With Your Soul

See with your soul
the color of indigo—
Breathe this color in
bring to your third eye
it will help you realize.
All the things your soul
does know—
listen to your intuition
and let it grow.
For opening this chakra
and balancing it too
will help you make better
decisions that amazed you.
Chanting "Sham, sham the
chakra's name—
will heal as well—
you won't feel the same.

Written by Christina Sunrise on August 26,2012
www.christinasunrise.com www.suzaria.com

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All Is Well With Your Soul

When tranquility whispers in your ear,
It soothed the soul like kisses
from a love one’s lips.

When regrets and lacks come to mind,
Learn their lessons, keep the faith
and leave regrets behind
All is well with your soul.

Enraptured in peace as you
sit by the cool river bank;
watching hurts and sorrows
roll out to sea, in assurance
That God is in control.

The resting place is low,
Heaven higher-
both are our lot.
Still all is well with our soul.


Dedicated to: Hon' able, Louvinia Pointer

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Weasel words with easy starts are not the first ones to our hearts

Weasel words
with easy starts
are not the first
ones to our hearts
when the cold cadaver light of day
takes one of those we love away

After the funeral
- when the funeral was over
- After we had buried him

We walked across the grass
We walked across the grass
leaving footprints in the dew

footprints in the dew
How was that possible
’God’s name how was that possible

with him forever
And now, forever
footprints forever

looking back across the grass
The warmth of the day
losing us all, forever

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With Eyes Far Greener Than The Sea

With eyes far greener than the sea
she looks at me and there is some tranquillity
when she folds her hand round mine in trust
reminding me of purity, of a white lily

and Madonna-like is the sanctity of her heart
while even her smile does sincerity impart
and a kind of peace descends between us,
while I realize that nothing can draw us apart

even when her spirit burns in a kind of rebellion
when in anger she sometimes talks in aversion
there’s still a secret understanding
and every gesture, every mood is just a diversion

from admitting how much she loves me
and when she is in act and will free,
even in raging anger
she remains lovely.

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With A Wish To Repay The Betrayer

It's something to be thumbed up,
With a dump done.
Heart thumping with a lumping.
Heart thumping with a lumping.

It hard to overcome,
A shunning that stuns.
Heart thumping with a lumping.
Heart thumping with a lumping.
With a wish to repay the betrayer!

Gritting teeth with a bit of anger in it.
And a wish to repay the betrayer.
Leaving lips bitten with no anger of it hidden.
And a wish to repay the betrayer.
Feeling overheated with paypack needed.
With a wish to repay the betrayer.
Emotions come with nowhere to run.
With a wish to repay the betrayer.

Oh...my, my!
Heart thumping with a lumping.
Heart thumping with a lumping.
With a wish to repay the betrayer.

It's something to be thumbed up,
With a dump done.
Heart thumping with a lumping.
Heart thumping with a lumping.
With a wish to repay the betrayer.
With a wish to repay the betrayer.

Oh...my, my!
Heart thumping with a lumping.
Heart thumping with a lumping.
With a wish to repay the betrayer.

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With a mind like that the poet must be mad

Many men...
(He lost his marbles)
Many women...
(Poetry did this to her)
We believe
What we want to believe
He is keen to see the things
We want to see that they're
Not where we see them
With the one working ear he
Listens with tear stained
Sympathy to the outraged
Complaints of the robbed robbers
With the other not there slashed
Ear he opts not to hear the soaring
Jazz score of the pious whose only
Sin is to escape the wrath of the
Beleaguered match fixers
He's a poet of you know
So in his distress he married himself
Off to another word smith his daughter
Bought him a sympathy card and wished
The soon to be born child God's mercy
Nobody wants to be brought up in
Such a passionate household for sure
He writes with a passionate intensity
With a half crazed mind like that
Your resident poet must be hovering
Somewhere on the peripheries of madness
We learn nothing from the past the past
Haunts us because we learn nothing from history
Wearily our uneventful lives follow where
Where we walk our sloth like walk

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With a Choice to Keep the Value

Why is it important to you now,
To hear my voice?
When it was you,
Who made not listening to me...
Your choice.

Why is my comprehension mentioned,
To be a priority of your concern?
I'm well aware of those lessons I've learned.
And few of them taught I seek to be repeated.
You brought to me then an acknowledgement.
And I did not hesitate,
To connect that to my common sense.

I received it and I heeded.

Why is it important to you now,
To hear my voice.
To review conversations,
I attempted to make...
That came to rest on deaf ears?

Perhaps there is a clarity,
Not understood before...
But overnight your eyes opened.
And a clarity that could have been yours...
Has now between your ears appeared?

Go ahead and say,
What you believe today is okay.
However,
If I should abruptly walk away...
Think of it as not being disrespectful.
But a sign of the times,
When one finds peace of mind.
With a choice to keep the value of it protected.

Think of my getting away from you,
In that perspective!
A treasured gift one gets...
To never be neglected.

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Patrick White

Dancing With An Old Man Under The Moon

Dancing with an old man under the moon
with nothing but your tattoos on,
as it rose over the treeline like a mushroom
and as beauty is to wisdom,
the blossom of your fire
to the smoke of stacked firewood
waiting to be immolated in the Bonfire of the Vanities
like an library of fingerprints on paper
just to prove that we were here once
long before this autumn made a ghost of us
and we could feel more naked with our clothes on
than we ever have done with them off.

Junkies hitting up in a snakepit of desire,
the Burmese python a heroin addict in a swamp,
the high-wire act of the rose in the circus,
the aerial acrobatics of our noblest emotions
swinging through the unimpeachable air
on a one-handed trapeze that was the axis mundi
of the world in the aberrant orbit
of a lightning struck weathervane.

Your body, a guitar; your soul, an inflammable violin,
when I wasn't burning bridges with you
like connections we didn't want to make
we were going for long firewalks among the stars
hand in hand like a couple that grew up
in the same neighbourhood that paid no attention
to whether they went out into the world and made good.
I was improbably inclined
and you were desperately uncertain
and we kept the little that was chaste between us
bucolic with shepherd moons
and major and minor dogs trying to pasture a rabbit.

Some women are beautiful like moonlit gazelles
and Greek vases are, and you stand back silently
as you would before any masterpiece of classical form
cooly and contemplatively as if you were musing
in your amazement on a first magnitude star
it would be an aesthetic desecration to touch
with anything as unshapely as a human in love.
But you knew how to swing your hips like an hourglass
and I've always been happy to be suckered by time
into filling in on the night shift for a sacred clown
who had to meet a dead line, finishing a cartoon
of the constellations he drew for a newspaper
like an out of date starmap that had to cut back on its print run.

You came with doves, I saw them, with plaster casts
on their broken wings, deadly nightshade, black orchids
that had once been the shadows of beauty queens,
and the fragrance of big pheromones charging
the summer night in your eyes with an aura of urgency
you kept hid under the eyelids of your innocence
and I could never tell whether you were the salvage
of the witch that was drowned in a trial by ordeal
or the one that showed everyone how easy it was
to walk on water when you had to save yourself.
Intrigued by the dawn of your smile, by midnight,
I was ready to sacrifice myself to the cult of it
like a Druid with a lunar sickle to the apple-bloom
of a tree alphabet deranged by the dissociated sensibilities
of an occult muse just coming out of eclipse.

I was making catalogues of the stars
that lay like ashes in my eyes when you suddenly flared up
like the saline spirit of a green flame burning in all my firepits
that began to feel they had the vision of a young dragon again
to see such foxfire blooming in the eye-sockets of its urns,
after the dark rain and fire storms, the excruciating pain
of living a life of coal predicated upon the possibility of diamonds,
the transmutation of the low into a union with the high
like a snake with wings that could ride, by God, it could ride
its own mystic wavelengths like a plutonic alloy
of the early Bronze Age just as the heroes were getting ready
to cut the umbilical cords with their hysterical, Medusan mothers.

Gratitude? Yes. You braved the taboo of the wizard
like a night bird on my windowsill, like a star
through the bars of my isolation cell
in a covert observatory buried underground
like a radical theater in a dead planetarium
staging doomsday scenarios for an unenlightened think tank
that never turned the light around on themselves
to discover that their third eye isn't the lens of a telescope.

And maybe you were the last hurrah of my flesh and bones
but, baby, you didn't leave anything elegaic in my blood
to prove it and I think it came as no less of a surprise to you
as it did to me, beyond the shadow of the searchlight of our doubt,
love had removed the black spot from my heart
like a planet in transit across a Venutian sun
and put it on your cheek like a beauty mark
in the name of Allah, the Merciful, the Beneficent
to tempt Hafiz into offering Samarkand
to a young slave girl if she would only take his hand
among the rose bushes on the banks of the Ruknabad
even if it meant he had to account to the khan
for what he squandered like gardens on the moon.

Born with wings on the heels of my cowboy boots
instead of spurs, who so club-footed
or cloven-hoofed and sodden
as camels in a B.C. gold rush
as to dance with you in sensible shoes?

Your hair was autumn. Your eyes were spring.
I lived for awhile, o who could know how to thank you,
for six months like a supernova in love with a black hole
at the vernal equinox in the thirteenth house
of the zodiac I still consult like a starmap of your tattoos
when I'm out walking in the woods alone
with the full moon that hasn't paled them in its light
even after all these years, still dancing with you in the night,
an old man circumambulating the fires of a dark bliss
by himself, certain he knows who he's dancing with and for.

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I am clothes

I am clothes
Respect my struggle
For decency

To blend in with the folks
That no one can deny
Ones that I can have an exchange with
In markets, workshops, classes, fairs and concerts
People who just want healthy happiness, prosperity and wisdom
To continue their lives.

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Free Delivery

Late at night, youre hungry
Youre craving some pizza
Let me be the one that you call
Olive or anchovy
Perhaps pepperoni
Anything you want, weve got it all
Near, far, Ill jump in my car
You just call in your order and Im gone
You know, we hand toss our dough
Just tell me what you want and the toppings will go on and on
Deep dish, whatever you wish
Even get two for one with a coupon
You must try our special crust
But just dont eat too fast or your heartburn will go on and on

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Captain Of Your Soul

Are you captain of your soul
that lives with you and makes you whole?
Or are there mutineers tearing at you,
attacking you so your soul can't get through?
If you steer your ship with your soul at the wheel
all of your voyages will keep an even keel.
You will not falter during stormy seas.
For your soul will keep your ship at ease.
It will guide you safely to distant shores.
It will keep you dry whenever rain pours.
For as the captain of your soul you'll find
you will leave the fierce winds all behind.

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Collection February 24,2012

yellowing marriage blanket
she wonders what
to say to him

lost virginity
every time as she sees
zip

a burst of laughter
the old pant zip works well
for her trousers


artist's new dawn
the horizon streaked with
yellow acrylic

buddha birthplace visit
the mustard fields
swirling with grace

buddha birthplace visit
the mustard fields
firing up my curiosity

infinite X - a lost Star
God and that file to help us
find the murderers

files X, XX, XXX
all the things that you
should not know

Chinese death penalty
his name on a panel
crossed with red

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Snow or Snowdrops?

Is it snow or snowdrops' shimmer
Whitens thus the bladed grass,
With a faint aërial glimmer,--
Spring or winter, which did pass?
For the sky is dim and tender
With an evanescent light,
And the fading fields are white,
White with snow or snowdrops, under
The fair firstling stars of night.


Little robin, softly, cheerly
Piping on yon wintry bough,
Why have all the fields that pearly
Iridescence, knowest thou?
Did old Winter, grim and hoary,
Aim a parting dart at Spring
As she fled on azure wing,
Or did she with rainbow glory
In his face her snowdrops fling?

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Flowers of mercy

In the field they are scattered
pink, white and brown-red
and emerge by them self
as if by mercy

and shoot up between blades of grass
and weeds
and the brittle heads
looks almost plastic fine

and still there’s nothing artificial
where the flowers stand in the veldt
with only the rain and sun
going over them.

Your love I also found
so unplanted,
which by its own accord
grows into my depths
and through hard times
still stays with me.

Other flowers
want to bloom around me
and I try and cut old feelings
down short,
as you are the flower
of flowers to me
and I just want to grow
deeper into your soul.

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Doctor's Day 2012

Most Doctors…
Try their best to heal;
Do not try to steal;
Use their ken to deal
With patient's problems and do feel!

All Doctors…
Are just humans too;
Try to be humane and do
Their duty with ethics due,
Upgrading knowledge new.

A few Doctors…
May make errors great;
May fleece patients poor;
May not perform to their best,
And earn a bad name for the rest!

Doctors…
Are a noble lot and lucky slot,
Whose toil is praised but soon forgot;
Sacrifice their life-times but cannot
Find time to check own health from rot!

Wish Doctors all, ‘A Happy Doctors Day! '
May they labour, come what may;
For their kind work, may God repay
With heaven, and bless them His way!

Copyright by Dr John Celes 29-05-2012

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True To Life

(ferry)
So it gets to seven
And I think of nothing
But living in darkness
And the diamond lady
Well shes not telling
I dont even know her name
Its amazing
Times have changed
In days of old
Imaginationd leave you standing
Out in the could
Dancing city
Now youre talking
But wheres your soul
-youve a thousand faces
Ill never know
There are complications
And compensations
If you know the game
Agitated in xenon nightly
Ill take you home again
Travel way downtown
In search of nothing
But the sky at night
And the diamond lady
Well shes not talking
But thats alright
So I turn the pages
And tell the story
From town to town
People tell me
Be determined
Poor country boy
Too much luck
Means too much trouble
Much time alone
But arm in arm
With my seaside diamond
Ill soon be home

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It Is Another Day

today shall be another day
do not think that it is the same sunshine
touching you
it will be another one
more warm
and will be even more comforting

you wake up so early when the windows
of your house are still closed
when the lights on the streets are still on
when the silence of the world still reigns

but soon enough you will hear the steps
of running men who rush to meet the day
with excitement with anticipation
for new thoughts for new adventures

do not just sit there and write
move your legs and run a mile or two
sweat it out and meet this world anew
till the new sun comes with the clouds

colors changing hues as birds start
flying in the air as trees grow to heights
as new leaves sprout as flowers along
the way start to bloom as if telling you

what a beautiful world we still have today!

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