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Aloof I AM – I Met A LONELY GOOF on my Only Roof! Woof! Woof!

Among the pride of lions – shudders a lonely deer, a cute one;
Along bowfins and dolphins fumbles a fingerling – a little one,
I'm a waxing gibbous moon riding in the lonely sky.....
I'm a crackpot – always under the lonely cloud, I don’t why!
'Jack-in-the-box sitting before idiot box in the night! ' Sings a lonely fox!
Aloof I am – I met a lonely goof on my only roof! Woof! Woof!

Aloof I am, a lone blue bird hopped up– my blood red ran cold!
Aloof I am, a lone red bird popped up – fear returned me in letters bold!
Aloof I am – hugged aloneness; aloof I am – aloneness bugged me;
Aloof I am – invited aloneness; aloof I am – lonely bug has bitten me.
'Jack-in-the-box sitting before idiot box in the night! ' Sings a lonely fox!
Aloof I am – I met a lonely goof on my only roof! Woof! Woof!

Aloof I am, sitting in my corridor, I invited aloneness for a treat;
Aloof I am, walking on the barren moor, loneliness lurked to beat;
Aloof I am, I felt a stab in my heart, my skin turned blue by lonely heat;
Aloof I am, oh my god! Aloneness is butchering me for my meat!
'Jack-in-the-box sitting before idiot box in the night! ' Sings a lonely fox!
Aloof I am – I met a lonely goof on my only roof! Woof! Woof!

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poem by Harindhar Reddy
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Flip-Flop! Clip-Clap! Boo-Boo Cried SOLO BOBBY – Trapped in a BOOBY-TRAP!

In lonely woods, I met Cyclops with solo eye and single mouth with fire
Goofing around in a city by varying names – hobo, hog are names few;
Anchorite, Hieronymite, troglodyte, , stylite, road hog are names new -
Solo Cyclops is a 16th century’s leviathan & 21st century’s plastic gyre.
Flip-flop! Clip-clap! Boo-boo cried solo Bobby – trapped in the Booby-trap!
Clip-clop went the horse's hop – lonely Johny weeps in the lonely shop!

Aloneness greets me seventy times seven and 24/7 with a mess!
Aloneness is a burning hole inside me with a hallow emptiness....
Aloneness is tearing me apart and pulling my only heart apart!
Aloneness is perfect but hopelessness and darkness in your heart.
Flip-flop! Clip-clap! Boo-boo cried solo Bobby – trapped in the Booby-trap!
Clip-clop went the horse's hop – lonely Johny weeps in the lonely shop!

Aloneness is a feeling of wontedness yet remains unwonted,
Aloofness isn't a simple word anymore - a nerve rattling terror;
It has undergone a surgery, turned out to be chameleons’ avatar!
So it puts every Jack, Tom and Jerry on the butcher’s altar.
Flip-flop! Clip-clap! Boo-boo cried solo Bobby – trapped in the Booby-trap!
Clip-clop went the horse's hop – lonely Johny weeps in the lonely shop!

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poem by Harindhar Reddy
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One-Way Good-Bye

I remember so many years
ago bare moment ago.

When I went forth compelled
to secretly say good-bye.

On street corner
cross from bank.

You did not know I was
or why I was bound there.
Watching building as I had
spied magnetic drab building.
Many times journeyed past
daily work’s journey to or throw.

Guessed second floor
you work on.
My heart
breaks anew.

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poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Coming of the Ship

Almustafa, the chosen and the beloved, who was a dawn onto his own day, had waited twelve years in the city of Orphalese for his ship that was to return and bear him back to the isle of his birth.

And in the twelfth year, on the seventh day of Ielool, the month of reaping, he climbed the hill without the city walls and looked seaward; and he beheld the ship coming with the mist.

Then the gates of his heart were flung open, and his joy flew far over the sea. And he closed his eyes and prayed in the silences of his soul.

But he descended the hill, a sadness came upon him, and he thought in his heart: How shall I go in peace and without sorrow? Nay, not without a wound in the spirit shall I leave this city.

Long were the days of pain I have spent within its walls, and long were the nights of aloneness; and who can depart from his pain and his aloneness without regret?

Too many fragments of the spirit have I scatterd in these streets, and too many are the children of my longing that walk naked among these hills, and I cannot withdraw from them without a bruden and an ache.

It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands.

Nor is it a thought I leave behind me, but a heart made sweet with hunger and with thirst.

Yet I cannot tarry longer.

The sea that calls all things unto her calls me, and I must embark.

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poem by Khalil Gibran
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I Do Not Die In My Aloneness

I DO NOT DIE IN MY ALONENESS

I do not die in my aloneness-
I live in it
I find solace in its silence-
I cry out to the sky with it
I feel Beauty in its fear
I love where it takes me in the long walking distance-

Alone alone alone
I see the morning light
And all the world is with me
As I sing my own song happily
On my way home from shul again.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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I’ll Open the Window

Our embrace lasted too long.
We loved right down to the bone.
I hear the bones grind, I see
our two skeletons.

Now I am waiting
till you leave, till
the clatter of your shoes
is heard no more. Now, silence.

Tonight I am going to sleep alone
on the bedclothes of purity.
Aloneness
is the first hygienic measure.
Aloneness
will enlarge the walls of the room,
I will open the window
and the large, frosty air will enter,
healthy as tragedy.
Human thoughts will enter

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poem by Anna Swirszczynska
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If You Can Not Complain

Can not complain, but it hurts...
Can not say, but I...
Can not show, but I do not care...

if you can not complain,
how ppl know it,
you hurts and pains,

if you can not say,
but a person guess, know about your feelings (pains) ...

if you can not show
how a person know it all your inside feelings. pain and suffer

if u do not care...
but a person care every time
every time wanna see you,

but it can not be enough
he wanna take to you,

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poem by Khushi throne
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Where am I?

It was a pathetic evening
Back from a busy day
In a cold cubicle of white spreads
I settle under a white quilt
Pale and hungry...
If i wanted to break from
My aloneness, i just needed
to make a call...
'hello, reception, ' pronounced
A trained voice...
I cradle the phone
I didn't want to hear groomed voices
They're so alike and lifeless
Enough to augment the aloneness
But why the hell should i...?
The pathos of the evening
Creaked in my joints
The pair of footwear in a lonesome corner
waited for my touch...
Out in a city of clamour

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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Taking coffee 'with' Jean-Paul Sartre.

It was 1952. We had a limited travel currency.
In Paris, I went one morning to
the Dome Café. There
sat Jean-Paul Sartre, smoking
a large meerschaum pipe
such as Kierkegaard or Nietzsche might have smoked;
he had his morning coffee in front of him.
Simone had not yet joined him.

A circle of young admirers sat at a
discreet distance; most wore black
but the young women could not avoid
a certain Parisian chic in their sombreness,
their existential frown and turned-down lips
around bright eyes.

It was the chance of what we call
a lifetime. Dare I speak to him?
Nothing ventured, nothing gained:
a human being must live his words,

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poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Farewell XXVIII

And now it was evening.

And Almitra the seeress said, "Blessed be this day and this place and your spirit that has spoken."

And he answered, Was it I who spoke? Was I not also a listener?

Then he descended the steps of the Temple and all the people followed him. And he reached his ship and stood upon the deck.

And facing the people again, he raised his voice and said:

People of Orphalese, the wind bids me leave you.

Less hasty am I than the wind, yet I must go.

We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another day; and no sunrise finds us where sunset left us.

Even while the earth sleeps we travel.

We are the seeds of the tenacious plant, and it is in our ripeness and our fullness of heart that we are given to the wind and are scattered.

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poem by Khalil Gibran
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