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In all my iterations, and my frequent reiterations,
Introspection reflection, run a muck, I find it unnecessary
To talk to God; the reason being quite simple, is
It and I are in constant dialogue, nary a pause, chattering
Round the clock, 24 seven, night and day, sleep interruptus,
I think to myself  God has some nerve,
why can't he bother others?
in other parts of the world…

And so he does!

Visitors from far away lands, and languages I do not understand, but applaud their attempts to decipher the English one, that we share in common; if the lands are exotic, the names are more delightfully so, almost ******! It excites and titillates, to greet these kindred souls whose words be greeted by puzzlement, intrigue, like the delight of rediscovering vanilla, it's the same language spoken differently!

and god smiles and says:
"knew you would eventually speak my soul language!'"
Zywa Feb 2023
The old threshold is

not worn out, my visitors --


step right over it.
Poem "van rompuytjes (22/11/- 8:00 37.1)" - II (2013, Hans Groenewegen)

Collection "Rasping ants"
Anais Vionet Jan 2022
a 2021 holiday story*

Lisa’s dad has a visitor from out of town - a “very important man.” He came early. He was dressed casually, in slacks, and a jacket over a mock-turtleneck. He was genial, behind tortoiseshell glasses, but he seemed ordinary, polite and a bit grandfatherly.

The adults visited, in the living room, while we girls played gin-rummy. Later, seafood was delivered from “Le Bernardin” -  I got fried shrimp and 18 raw oysters on the ½ shell (yum).

After dinner, I was free (having set the table) to relax on Lisa’s balcony and watch the city. It was cold-ish but the breeze had gentled, it was the tail end of dusk and the fast-darkening sky was bluer than blue. Why waste time sitting inside on the Internet flipping Instagram’s flat little pictures - when there’s this stunning, 3D reality available?

The important man came out to smoke a cigar. The steady breeze blew the smoke away in the other direction. We sat silently, like astronauts in space enjoying the view of earth. The city's traffic, reduced to pinpricks of red and white light, reminded me of dewdrops along a spider web.

After a few minutes, he pointed his cigar at the view and said, “The city lights, a seductive woman, a cigar and bourbon - who needs more?”

I was momentarily confused, then I bristled, but didn’t show it. Of course, it was just fluff and flattery, a non sequitur compliment from another age - aimed at both of us really - so polished it wrapped around again to the generic. He, of course, was the romantic lead and I the seductive woman. “Is that what I am?” I asked myself, trying to transpose the male gaze.

The glass door opened, interrupting the moment and Leeza (12) came out with a tray and two huge pieces of Dutch-apple-pie à la mode for the two of us. She looked at the avuncular man and said, “I could only carry two, can I get you something?” “No thanks,” he said, raising a bar glass half full of bourbon. A moment later Lisa’s dad joined him, saying, “I called Mumbai and bla, bla, bla, boring boring.” Leeza and I took our leave.

Lisa and her mom were just finishing the dishes. I came close-up to Lisa, flounced my hair and said, in my slinkiest voice, “I’m a seductive woman.” Lisa laughed and replied, “Well of course you are!” Her mom, Karen, also understanding the joke, rolled her eyes. I could almost feel Leeza, locked onto us, trying to decipher the context for that exchange.

Lisa says, in a conspiratorial whisper, “I think he has a thing for you,” wiggling her eyebrows.  “Ooo, Marry me, DADDY,” I say, batting my eyes and wiggling vampishly.
“Shhh,” Karen says, shaking her head, finger to lips and chuckling.
BLT  word of the day challenge: non sequitur: a statement out of nowhere
you can’t control how you’re seen - or not seen
Grey Mar 2020
Under the pale blue sky
A small bird chirps softly as it watches the world go by.
Soft green grasses wave in the breeze
As the rose's heavy perfume tickles my nose and makes me sneeze.
Your eyes dart toward me, a dashing golden hue
And I stand stalk still to study you.
Long ears flick back and forth, covered in waves of silk
And I can make out a small cotton tail the color of buttermilk.
You glance over your shoulder, wide eyes studying me
before you spring across the meadow, happily free.
Happy Spring! :)
I believe that fire was still a mystery
when the hunt was interrupted by the visitors
knowing that the creatures were startled by their presence
these visitors could passively drop the gold dust
into the creek from which they drank
and as expected, the dumbfounded four
with mouths agape
watched in disbelief without twitching a muscle
though it is not ascertained
that disbelief was a function of the thought
process that they were at this time
capable

it was not lost on these creatures
however,
our forefathers
that these odd newcomers were far superior
than the mastodon they were tracking with rocks

the 3 visitors gave a glance to their soon-to-be hybrid offspring
and were off
the ability to convey their experience when they returned to their caves
fell futile
there were as yet no grunts to properly describe what they had witnessed

the DNA structure leading to the ceiling
of the evolutionary scale was no longer a towering, folding beast
but rather a mere stepladder
fire was discovered
tools, arrows, weaponry
and monuments that we have yet to explain how
were constructed
while the last true human
but a young child when the visitors came
who had observed from afar
drank only from a pond that they had not touched

he passed like a story from the ancients
forgotten in time
Oldie - revised
Raghu Menon Sep 2017
We are just visitors
For a brief time
Travelling through a few milestones
Our time is finite
Our interactions are finite
So, why have an ego
Which is also finite?
Let us be friends with the world
With the people, plants
Trees and climbers
With the butterflies
And the beasts as well
Since our journey is finite
Make Life as easy as possible
And make it merry as well..
Leave a few sweet memories
For those who come after us.
Nena Twedell Sep 2014
Got my whole world closed down
In a lockdown
Under surveillance
Hoping no one can see what's inside
No one is allowed in
Without special permission
Yet you’re here
How did you get in
You snuck in under my radar like no one before
You must have some serious skill
But now I must remove you from the premises of my world
You are a threat to the wellbeing and surroundings
You don't belong here yet
How did you get here
Why are you here
My whole world is closed down to everyone around me
In a lock down with security heavily guarding every part
How did you get in
Sure you can visit
Sure you can take a peak
But don't cross inside
That's how it's always been
So how did you get past the barb wire
How did you get past the landmines
Snuck in under my radar
Now I don't know how to get you out
You know to much already
Seen too much of what happens in here
How did you get in to this place
Where no one else has been aloud before.
My world is closed down to everyone else
So how did you sneak your way in
Please don't leave
Visitors are nice
And are few and far between
I don't mind them once in a while
Promise you won't spill the secrets you have seen
Or the secrets you have heard.
You've seen too much already
You know too much now.
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