A favourite poem?
- Prasanna
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Re: A favourite poem?
You are the one,
You are the best,
You are my friend,
I accept.
I don’t know, how you can understand my unspoken words,
And fill me with lot of guts.
I don’t know, how you can feel my hidden emotions,
And answer me with correct expressions.
I don’t know, how you can realize my pain,
And heal it firmly, so that I can gain.
A person like you is rare to find, who can stand stable,
With all her ideas in mind.
I guess God sent me here only to meet you,
So that I can understand life, lot, because of you.
Your words and ideas are really means to me,
I will keep it, when life brings struggle for me.
Your little conversation filled me with joy,
And I started looking at life in a new fly.
Though I met a lot of people, who accepted me.
But my soul only accepted you, as my true friend.
I know I will be a bright star someday,
But you will be in my heart everyday,
I cry and die when we will apart,
But your voice will always keep me ahead in every path.
You are my true guide.
You are my true friend.
“Our relationship is marked with deep red ink pen”.
- alkabhagat
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It Dropped So Low In My Regard ~ Emily Dickinson
IT dropped so low in my regard
I heard it hit the ground,
And go to pieces on the stones
At bottom of my mind;
Yet blamed the fate that fractured, less
Than I reviled myself
For entertaining plated wares
Upon my silver shelf
also,i like reading the news updates daily
- nooregano
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- Ak1412
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- Ak1412
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- fenellamelford
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Secrets of the Universe
by David W. McFadden
You’re waiting for a bus at Ward and Baker
and a woman comes up to you
and asks for a dance.
You tell her you don’t want to dance
for there is too much snow
and not enough music
and she says you didn’t mind
dancing with me last night.
And when you tell her she’s mistaken
you didn’t dance with her or anyone last night
she says oh yes you did
and when you ask where
she says up there
on the roof
and she points to the roof of Hipperson Hardware.
In fact, she says, as her voice drops
and a shy look comes into her eyes
I’ve even danced with you on other planets
Venus and Mars for instance
and then she walks away
leaving you to wonder about the part of your life
that is secret even from you.
- Brendan Donaghy
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BY STEVIE SMITH
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
- IamShing
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- imSunshine
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yeap, same here..its a wonder some people have the same path in lifeSocial Butterfly wrote: ↑01 Jun 2018, 12:55 I love this poem. Makes me reflect on all the love I've got in my life. Wow!
- Nisha Ward
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Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast
In a field I looked into going past,
And the ground almost covered smooth in snow,
But a few weeds and stubble showing last.
The woods around it have it - it is theirs.
All animals are smothered in their lairs.
I am too absent-spirited to count;
The loneliness includes me unawares.
And lonely as it is, that loneliness
Will be more lonely ere it will be less -
A blanker whiteness of benighted snow
WIth no expression, nothing to express.
They cannot scare me with their empty spaces
Between stars - on stars where no human race is.
I have it in me so much nearer home
To scare myself with my own desert places.
- DevPravindhya
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Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still
for once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for a second,
and not move our arms so much.
It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.
Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would not look at his hurt hands.
Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.
What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about;
I want no truck with death.
If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.
Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.
Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.
- magnoparisi
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Love is a fire that burns, but is never seen;
a wound that hurts, but is never perceived;
a pleasure that starts a pain that’s unrelieved;
a pain that maddens without any pain; a serene
desire for nothing, but wishing her only the best;
a lonely passage through the crowd; the resentment
of never being content with one’s contentment;
a caring that gains only when losing; an obsessed
desire to be bound, for love, in jail;
a capitulation to the one you’ve conquered yourself;
a devotion to your own assassin every single day.
So how can Love conform, without fail,
every captive human heart, if Love itself
is so contradictory in every possible way?
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And reveal to us the inconceivable fount of mercy,
You bless whoever approaches Your rays,
And a soul all black will turn into snow.
O sweet Jesus, it is here You established the throne of Your mercy
To bring joy and hope to sinful man.
From Your open Heart, as from a pure fount,
Flows comfort to a repentant heart and soul.
May praise and glory for this Image
Never cease to stream from man's soul.
May praise of God's mercy pour from every heart
Now, and at every hour, and forever and ever."
— Diary of Sr. Faustina, opening lines
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