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It always begins with throwing stones,
Bewitching laughter, shattered bones.
I sleep on a floor made of golden straw
And blood drips from my gaping maw.
You toss me scraps from a high table
As I covet from my suffocating stable.
Your affection comes at a steep price.
Does it feel good? Does it taste nice?
You taunt me with the kindest words
But the sound of pride is all I heard.
Self-preservation is a skill I cannot master--
Yes, I admit, I enjoy a little disaster.
I am not worthy of love, only play.
Perhaps I will be released someday.
I love the abuse despite my rage.
You poke, and ****, and I am still caged.
1
The jack tree, framing the museum gate
was an eyeful, with fruits from top branch to roots,
reminding  a lush woman, pregnant and languid,
expectant, beaming a smile, what else could be
a better fertility symbol, gladdening one's heart!
2
He sees her, Lila,waiting under the jack tree
Lila, a fixture, highlighting jack tree's abundant fertility,
on a juncture of present and past, symbolizing
what is left inside the walls of the museum
only the bits we came to know sporadically,
stashed away for curious eyes, a puzzle for us always.
Everything flows in to one, yet remains in fragments!
3
He knows Lila will turn the corner,
now or later and go in to the museum,
standing in a lovely garden
full of past waiting for her
he guesses someone else too, accompanies her,
A lover? Perhaps not, his heart consoles,
only a dim figure, he could see
in his repeated dreams of her.
4
He ingeniously attempts, different ways to see her,
in points of time and different points of view.
Lila, he feels is a girl, he may fall in love with,
but the fact is that she is in mystery's wrap,
the play of Maya -illusion- in matter
that realization wakes him up to awareness,
of himself, many things that count.
On the lonely roads of university campus,
she walks looking in to a past,
she wants to leave behind or retrieve?
Following her far behind, from a clearing
in the forest of a time past, he thinks about,
the time they were together,
now, she becomes a symbol,
to explore the secrets of the past, himself, life.
5
A name with dimensions, Lila is,
the Sanskrit word for play, the cosmos is engaged in,
the dance he would do life long,
but there would be walls erected, like the time they were together.
He thinks being together has significance, if only you count so,
Lila is in the scheme of things that moves universe too,
he learns to detach Lila from her physical form.
6
Lila in the universe is the dancing atoms,
the stars dying and being born in other universes.
While reciting poetry on stars and* 'multiverse'  
he feels the flow of life. Lila is the flow of energy unlimited,
Lila, takes over body, mind and consciousness.
7
Lila smiles at him as he walks to her,says she:
"Waiting for you here, took me to the unknown, waiting for ages,
I am curious, is it you looking at me or a past fragmented?
I feel your eyes playing with my body mind and beyond"
She didn't say she is imagining things. Now, all that matters is this.
They gravitate towards each other.He is pleased at the light emitted
They both are fascinated by the jack tree full of fruits,
life forms of nature and nebulous energies that navigate,
going back and forth has become a habit for all of us.


A big bang in every nucleus, inviting big crunch, that creeps in,
Lila and he walked in, the doorman in the museum smiled
*Multiverse-infinite possible universes also called quantum universes..
 Apr 2018 Jennifer DeLong
Twinkle
A futile battle enmeshed
Overpowering emotions struggle to stay afloat
Heaving a deep breath I sink in
Isolated in my despair
Sliced through bone and marrow
Pain wrenches my soul, vice in its hold

A fragrance wafts in
Electrifying my soul
Reverberating memories explode
Bursting to surface
Tender moments, the story of a heaped up soul

In every cell of my being I feel you
Emanating exuding your deep truth
Your touch like butterflies
Transcendental your love
Rewinding reel by reel
The story of an unsaid love

I see you close, though I bear you not
My heart lost inside your soul
Irreplaceable the magic
Weaved by those deep emerald embers
Wants each moment to unfold

I ease back and surrender once again
To the assurance of this bliss
Entrenched deeply in this moment
Serenity shrouds a warm blanket
Intense emotions lay calm, spent
My soul in glorious serenity elevates
You are undeniably a part of me
My paragon, my serenity
Issue forth bright light, vibrant colors
Adorn the deep dark night sky
Your love a painting a million hues
Panoramic and divine.

I LOVE YOU....
Imaginary poem..wishing every bit this were real.
Cosmic dust,
run around the cloudless sky.
Angelic voices,
Sublime with the silent night.

Oleic vocalist of Ibredeic origin,
spin macho skulls like some bottles of dry gin.
Lanky keyboardist of jeremic extraction,
blends those notes to audience satisfaction.

Bees buzz in their budding hive,
preparing to fly away some sunny night.
Trapped in a summer,
no space to run further.

loosing those strings,
built by camp stings.
Drowns those feelings,
in the ocean of friendship.

Don't run to a stranger,
Just to have a taste of life outside the manger.
Don't forget years of shared hopes and strives,
Just for the promise of a ride
or nuptial flight.
Dedicated to the northern star
Just some moments of meditation,
will trigger our imaginations
and will give rise to an inspiration
that will give birth to an innovation
and will ultimately transform generations.

We can't have a revolution
Because we don't have strong resolutions.
We can't have a solution
Until we change our disposition
and we can only do that in the place of meditation.

We are faced with multiple instructions,
Challenged by absence of leaders with vision.
We are at the edge of fission.
The youths have to start offering contributions so our nation can reach it destination.

If when overwhelmed by confusion.
we eventually take the wrong decisions,
our children unborn will have to face derision
Because we surrendered to our Emotions
At every Junction where our discretion was supposed to function.
A thousand years from now,
there would be no more me.
The streets will be brand new
And civilization will have taken a different dimension.

A thousand years from now,
technology would replace human digestion process.
A thousand years from now,
men of amazing genius will walk on the sky.

A thousand years from now,
Science will repaint the sky.
A thousand years from now,
The world would rewire it's solar system.

A thousand years from now,
would I still be remembered?
A thousand years from now,
Will the grave have curtailed me?

A thousand years from now,
I would still be with you.
A thousand years from now,
My pen will still wipe your tears.
Dedicated to all who come behind me.
Childhood notions transmigrate,
as seconds increases time's height.
The manly instincts begin to prevail,
as I spread my wings toward Adulthood.

The man I want to be is a man who conquers defeat.
Beaten but not broken,
defeated but not limited.
Rising above the dreary shadows will serve as light for all who come behind.

The man I want to be is a relentless dreamer,
whose mental eyes envision spring from summer.
The man I want to be is an accurate planner,
Whose calculations provide food in famine.

The man I want to be is an epitome of discipline
Who rises up every morning to derive a schedule for the day.
The man I want to be is a workaholic
Who works tirelessly till evening and drive home to the hands of firm embrace.

The man I want to be is a man of wealth
Whose worth is not measured by the money he possesses but his contribution to humanity.
The man I want to be is a man of value whose judgement cannot be impaired by money.

The man I want to be is a strong man
whose strength is not in the size of his arms but the elasticity of his ideas.
The man I want to be is a strong man who hides a million feeling under a smile.

The man I want to be is a just man
who respects every man's opinion with equity regardless of religion and ethnicity.
The man I want to be is a tough man whose conviction will not be eroded by people's opinion.

The man I want to be is a father to the fatherless and a defense to the voiceless,
whose ears will always be opened to the pleas of the deprived.

The man I want to be is a man of varlour
Who shapens his life and the lives of those around him on his knees.



The man I want to be is you Dad
Dedicated to the loving memories of my beloved father Late Pastor Ejiro Sajini.
The moon calls my name
fate shivers in terror.
Is he now late
or is this a piece of horror?

Stormed by mind tapes
inscribed by good days.
Weights of shared affection and passion
are now buried in the sand of memories and imaginations.

The earth weeps,
as it is being whipped.
The world's greatest gift,
Is about to be enclosed in it.

Darkness embrace the earth,
Stings of viral sadness is felt.
Loved one's soaked in the river of tears,
My beloved Mom was drenched in the rain of fear.

As the earth opened it mouth,
Memories from good old days began to replay,
Of how we rushed home from school at the end of the day
to see your loving face.

Running back through time,
I recall how you answered many of our questions with just a stunning smile.
Turning back the wheels of the clock,
I am overwhelmed by the affection you showed your flocks.

Six feet down,
the heavens frown.
Hoping we meet again,
never to part again.

My tear filled soul can only say I MISS YOU.
Dedicated to the loving memories of my father Late Pastor Ejiro Sajini
I swear I could visualize my skeleton
With so much more clarity than before
I could see how whole it was
Despite all my missing parts
My skeleton keeps on flowing through the motions,
The same bones groove together with purpose.
I owe my surprisingly healthy bones more than I give
I feel more whole as a skeleton
Please remove the rest
My motions will be smooth and conscious
Like water dripping from the faucet,
my fingers will tap with impatience.
Like a wheel tumbling down a hill,
My old bones will follow
They are the key to freedom
No wonder.
The key that opens every door
Is called the skeleton key.
 Apr 2018 Jennifer DeLong
berry
this is a series of brief letters to the pieces of my body

dear body,
we don't always work together very well,
but i swear i am trying.

dear hands,
the callouses and crescent moons in your palms
will not be for nothing.

dear knuckles,
aren't you tired of painting yourselves black & blue
every time words fall short of the fire burning behind my sternum?

dear feet,
you know better than to follow roads that lead to dead ends.
there are better places for us to go.

dear eyes,
you have sunken so far into my skull
it shocks me you see anything at all anymore.
you're fixated on shades of gray
but i promise the world will regain its color soon.

dear knees,
stop crawling.
this broken glass is from his bottles.
get up. no more blood.

dear shoulders,
it was never your burden to carry. let it fall,
and try your hardest not to feel guilty.

dear neck,
his hands will never make a home here,
and you are worth more than one night of empty bruises.

dear spine,
stop waiting to be warmed by fingers
that would reach for another body if they could.

dear tears,
do not waste yourselves.

dear ears,
you have been filled with ghost songs for too long.
stop listening for things no one is saying -
it will make life much simpler.

dear mouth,
i know these secrets have been threatening to break my teeth
but please do not open your gates. i am not ready.

dear skin,
we have never been close friends.
i am sorry for the scars.
i am trying to learn how to be comfortable in you.

dear mind,
if i could wish you into an etch-a-sketch
and shake you clean of these bad memories i would.

dear heart,
i hope you can forgive me for being so careless.
i feel how tired you are. rest is on its way.  

dear body,
you will one day see a grave,
but it must not be by your own hands.

- m.f.
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