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Hurrying to my work in the untimely shower
Caught my ears the mews but it was rush hour
Must be another kitten born with no luck
Abandoned in the shrub dying on sidewalk!

The day soon rubbed off the mews from my mind
Till my feet trudged home leaving the drudge behind
Once upon that sidewalk in twilight’s grayish hues
I heard it from neath of grass pain’s plaintive mews!

Must be an angel possessed me I did find it out
Picked up took home put warm milk into its mouth
My lady unpleased said our hands are already full
Here you bring another like you isn’t another fool!

But she was the first one to make it a cosy bed
She was the one worrying how it to be properly fed
Yet filled the air its agony’s mews all day and night
She said your taking it here wasn’t all that right!

Its ma must have left the baby in the bush safely hiding
Picking up and taking it home was quite a wrong thing
She must be now crying wild searching everywhere
The baby wouldn’t stop crying till getting back mother!

So the cute kitten I placed back in the hideout on sidewalk
With the prayer it gets back ma wishing it good luck
Leaving it with heavy heart I walked away for day’s work
Sighed the silent sidewalk on my way home after dark!
sometimes the dividing line between wrong and right is too thin.
All that I'll have is
beautifully scented sheets
and dented pillows
Haiku
Where sways in the wind the eucalyptus
with chiming bells rolls the bullock cart
lies the hut of my dream sown in wild grass
lives the girl I have loved and given my heart!

She is the girl not been ever to a city
she isn’t the girl can call clever and witty
a girl without a mirror she’s the most pretty
and I have loved her and given all my heart!

Her skin is dark cloud her lips river’s flow
her eyes are sky deep tinged with rainbow
she isn’t the girl skilled in love’s fine art
she is the girl I have loved and given my heart!

Her hair rusty black makes the winds insane
her smiles streaming brook no artist can paint
a girl without polish yet a beauty on the earth
and I have loved her and given all of my heart!
Baby sees a star
Makes a wish, hands clenched, eyes shine
Yes, dreams do come true.
Saw a shooting star, my three year old made a wish and it's a secret, of course.

(I made one too...)
 Apr 2014 Not-So-Superman
calion
falling in love with you was like making tea on a hot summer day; useless but kinda okay because tea makes everything better.

you were like a massive piece of cake that was drizzled with arsenic because once someone could peel away the poisonous parts you were pretty **** tasty.

you didn't understand my disorders and I helped you with yours, and that's the worst.

**** Emma. really, **** Emma because she's the one who got you addicted.

you're a *** addict and a drug addict and I do not want you and I do not need you and I do not love you.

but I miss you.
Don’t come to the cemetery at night* Peter Xalxo would say
If you are so inclined make your visits in the day
For often in the evening when exam worries were gone
I would go to the cemetery and sit on some tombstone.

I think boy the ones from the other world make visits at nights
And they would not love to find living souls upon their sights
Why intrude their peaceful home and not leave them there alone
When the time after the sunset they think to exclusively own!


Having said this with a grave face he would lower his voice still low
While on nightly posts at the graves I’ve seen in the dark some glow
And at moonlit nights on duty’s round heard footsteps around me
I would advise boy not to step into at night at the cemetery.


He used to tell more such tales to instill in the boy some fear
But come the next evening and at the cemetery I would reappear
For I loved the moon bathed solitude the trees’ darkened shed
The tranquility of the place in quiet company of the dead!

All said I wouldn’t leave out in this account one truthful fact
Uncle Peter’s stories had some effect some impact
They colored my times at the cemetery spent at nights alone
I seemed to feel they were moving the graves’ marble stone.

Then one night as I was coming out around nine o’clock
To my horror found the gate closed with an iron lock
Bewildered I stood there knowing no other ways to go
When there appeared a shadow heard the voice of Peter Xalxo.

I told you boy not to loiter here not disturb their peace of night
This ground here the dead walks now though beyond your sight
Run home and never come back
his voice in whisper talked
Some more words he mumbled before got the gate unlocked.

That night at the dinner table my father told mom this
He was such a good man and a great friend to miss
But God only decides in his garden which flower to pluck
Peter Xalxo died this evening suffered a heart attack.
I come out no stronger
when a poem is all over.

come down to earth on broken wing
words gone dry heart bleeding
with me not even making a beginning!

When a poem is done
it tells me
you've not yet begun
not done your part
and still stuck at the start!


I come out no stronger
when a poem is over.

the mind for sometimes hover
falls down with broken wing
words gone dry heart bleeding
with me not even making a beginning!

When a poem is done
it tells me
I'm left undone
mere ink on paper without a soul,
when one more dream of mine you stole.
There's no way I could justify
any of the failed loves.

They only demanded from me

a little more strength
some more endurance
walk a longer length


but when close to the peak
my knees grew weak
doubts brewed in my head
my resolves started to fade
I was seeking more precision
more commitment from the other side

and what happened was no doubt
their obvious fallout

a retreat when it would have been right
to in love scale the needed height.

Then as a cover up of my shame
tainted the other with all blame
last nail in the coffin being
hold her responsible for everything
then solaced in escape's upbeat mood
saying what happened happened for good!

Now I have to admit *****-nilly
my lapses in love come back to haunt me.
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