Lifedance

Lifedance

Bukowski, Charles.



The area dividing the brain and the soul

Is affected in many ways by experience --



Some lose all mind and become soul:

insane.



Some lose all soul and become mind:

intellectual.



Some lose both and become:

accepted.

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Coffee At Noon

My new friend, At the coffee house

Green eyes, the angels desire

Pink lips, the roses blush.

Smile, the essence of a child



A suprise call, An invitation

Rearranged my noon for this friend

Not another moment I would wait

To see the person I read everynight.



A wonderful delight, Meeting her

Forgetting the world around me

Time stops not for her or I

Leave with a hope to see her again

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Humor and Rumor

I'm just a Rumor spread by Humor .

Knowing Humor is all that will remain.

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Our Own Creation

Our success or failure, happiness or misery, depends upon what we seek and what we choose. We are nothing more and nothing else than the figment of our own creation.

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Your Arms In Mine

Held her tight on the couch,

Took a long look into her eyes.

A smile running up her lips,

How much she wanted to cuddle.



The thoughts in her head,

All empty and a lot scary.

Her eyes strayed and rested on mine,

Never felt closer to a man.



I took her arm in mine,

Held her closer sending down a shiver.

Her eyes rolled back and then shut

Her lips inching closer to mine



She held on tight, with all her might.

Lest her grip may fail.

She smiled and let it say all.

Together we held love within.

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Tomorrow and Today

Life is today, what it may not be tomorrow,

But what is tomorrow is upto you.



For every action that reflects today,

There is a thought that reflects tomorrow.



Bring closer your tomorrow,

For a better today.

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What is love?

What is love?

Tell me baby now!

When you claim it's love

That you have for me!



Your palms sweat, your heart racing,

It isn't love, its affection.



You can't keep your eyes or hands off of me,

It isn't love, its lust.



You want me because you know I'll be there,

It isn't love, its loneliness.



You tell me every day they I am the only one,

It isn't love, its a lie.



You say you will give up everything for me,

It isn't love, its charity.



Love quotes it all

Learnt from love

For have loved and lost

But kept love intact



What is love?

You know now!

When you claim that its love

Look to the ones who have loved

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I , You, You and Me

I make You feel young again,

You make Me trust love again,

I make You feel love agian,

You make Me believe agian.

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Riddles and Rhymes

Riddles and Rhymes

In our heads

Riddles and Rhymes

In our hearts



To tell more I desire

Words sheilded by a mind

Slave to the Unknown

Wandering for truth



Peace I find in your arms

A smile to brighten a day

A kiss to brighten a soul

The devil keeps good away



Riddles and Rhymes

In our heads

Riddles and Rhymes

In our hearts



To show more I desire

Feelings sheilded by thoughts

Slave to the heart

Wandering for love

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A Surprise Meeting

This is a strange feeling .

Do you feel this way too?

We find ourselves telling each other,

The deepest details of our lives.

Things we don't even share with our friends.



So who are you? and who am I?

A confidant? A lover? A shoulder to cry on?

A ear to listen? A heart to feel?

I can be all of these and even more.



No matter where we met, no matter how long ,

You have become a part of my life .

You have walked a while with me.

You have talked your heart out to me.

Did you wish to hold on to me?



I'm happy with how its turned out so far.

I am scared to take it any far,

Are you scared as I am?

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Friday The 13th

Today

Another year

Another friday

Another 13th

Ah yes again

Finally

The day I hold

The day that brings fear

The day I conquer

Ah yes again

Kingdom

Rise again

Two worlds unite

I take the throne

Ah yes again

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Dancing With The Gods

Dance not to the steps of fate,

Let not hate play ,

Its favoured flute.



Sing out from the mind,

Rule out the odds,

Roam the distance.



Dance not to the tune of fear,

let out all here,

Rise above the stars.



You are there ,

Near to where belongs,

The gods by your side.

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Reversed and Wicked, Twisted

Twisted:

Our games

Our lives

Our goals



Wicked:

Our views

Our desires

Our questions



Reversed:

Our domains

Our skills

Our tasks

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A Caution To Everybody - Ogden Nash

A Caution To Everybody

Ogden Nash



Consider the auk;

Becoming extinct because he forgot how to fly, and could only walk.

Consider man, who may well become extinct

Because he forgot how to walk and learned how to fly before he thinked.

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Summer Gloom

Is it that time of the year?

Or is it just in my head.

Everyone around me seems to in gloom,

Just smiling at me being all silly.



Everyone is rushing and stressing,

Am I missing someting?

Is it that time of the year?

Or is it just in my head.

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Cost of Sleep

Sleep is a good deal like money.

The more we have of it,

The more we seem to want.

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Truth In Lies

To create a favourable impression, it is not necessary that certain things should be true, just that they have to be said. The truth is always one thing, but in a way there is another, the lie, It shows what people's hearts crave.

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Choice and Destiny

Destiny, she said is her name

Funny.

Choice , She said is her game

Funny.



Destiny , I said is the game.

No one Laugh.

Choice , I said is the name

No one Fear.

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Your Love So Divine

You shine like the morning sun

Beautiful as the starlit sky



Your love for me unrivalled

Your touch unparalleled



You will always be mine

No matter where you reside



This cruel world will not let me unmask your face

For faith, I hide mine behind the two face



My dream girl my love

Hold me tight tonight

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Death Stalks Poets ?

Verse Writers Die Younger Than Other Writers

By Daniel DeNoon

WebMD Medical News Reviewed By Charlotte Grayson, MD

on Thursday, December 11, 2003





All eager-lipped I kissed the mouth of Death.



-- U.S. poet Gwendolyn B. Bennett





Dec. 11, 2003 -- Death is drawn more to poetry than to other forms of writing, an intriguing study finds.





Poets die sooner than playwrights. Playwrights die sooner than novelists. And novelists die sooner than nonfiction writers, according to a study by James C. Kaufman, PhD, of California State University. The study appears in the November issue of Death Studies.





Kaufman combed through biographical references to come up with birth and death dates for writers in four different cultures: North America, China, Turkey, and Eastern Europe. The data spans millennia -- one Turkish writer was born in the year 390. Kaufman made an effort to control for the fact that life spans have increased over time and across cultures.





"Both male and female poets had the shortest life spans of all four types of writers, and poets had the shortest life spans in three of the four cultures," Kaufman says in a news release. "Only in Eastern Europe did poets squeak past playwrights by a few months, and that difference was not statistically significant."





Why might poets die sooner?





"Some of the reasons why poets have [been] found to be more likely to suffer from mental illness ... may also be applicable to why poets are more likely to die young," Kaufman writes. "Poetry may appeal to people who are more likely to be self-destructive."





But there's also a more prosaic explanation, Kaufman acknowledges. Poets tend to achieve fame earlier than other kinds of writers. That puts them in the history books at a younger age -- and gives them a better chance of being young when they die.





Kaufman, however, prefers the explanation that fiction writers die younger because fiction is lonely work. Playwrights interact with directors and actors; journalists must interview and interact with newsmakers. Fiction writers have only the blank page.





"This study may reinforce the idea of poets being surrounded by an aura of doom, even compared with others who may pick up a pen and paper for other purposes," Kaufman concluded. "It is hoped that the data presented here will help poets and mental health professionals find ways to lessen what appears to be a negative impact of writing poetry on mortality and health."

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In Memory Of Love

Remember the time

When we departed,

The days were so long;



Silent night all along

Lonliness and love songs;

You know with whom it belong?



Remember the days

When I loved you

The first time I fell in love;



My heart had a reason to follow

Swearing heaven up above

That this heart beat is yours from now.



Remember the days

When we were together

I realised its your flair;



For making me aware

That how much you care

For me and the thoughts we share.



Remember the days

When I missed you

The meaning of love I could learn



When you'r absence made me concerned

And I was waiting for you to return

As I started loving you more than anyone.

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Have you ever been this way?

Have you ever been this way?

Loving strangers more,

Than those near you.



Have you ever been this way?

Knowing right from wrong,

yet choosing wrong.



Have you ever been this way?

Being in full control,

Not knowing what you are doing.



Have you ever been this way?

Listening and watching,

Letting nothing go to your head.



Have you ever been this way?

Creative and artistic,

An empty canvas, waiting for you to paint.

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