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Aleksandra

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Aleksandra
he wants my bread

this ragged child

on the roadside

 

 

 

goldenlangur

 

 

 

On the roadside

the child cries alone

hungry for mother's kiss

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur
On the roadside

the child cries alone

hungry for mother's kiss

 

 

 

hungry for mother's kiss

Little Bear roams

the night sky

 

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra
the night sky

embroidered with diamond myths

takes us home

 

~~Tink

 

Takes us home

where nobody awaits.

The door is locked...

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur
Takes us home

where nobody awaits.

The door is locked...

 

 

the door is locked...

but a lamp glows

at the window

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra
the door is locked...

but a lamp glows

at the window

 

 

goldenlangur

 

 

 

At the window

I draw your face

with the shadow of the night

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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Aleksandra
With the shadow of the night

comes a new day ...

in someone else's world.

 

In someone else's world

I am somebody

without nobody

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur
In someone else's world

I am somebody

without nobody

 

without nobody

conversations we've had

echo in my head

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra
without nobody

conversations we've had

echo in my head

 

goldenlangur

 

Echo in my head

long way of memories

I stuck in the past.

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur
Echo in my head

long way of memories

I stuck in the past.

 

I stuck in the past

but in dreams

I see a new place

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra
I stuck in the past

but in dreams

I see a new place

 

 

goldenlangur

 

I see a new place

where the peace leads

on the crossroad.

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur
I see a new place

where the peace leads

on the crossroad.

 

on the crossroad

both turns seem the same -

black-topped and empty

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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on the crossroad

both turns seem the same -

black-topped and empty

 

 

goldenlangur

 

Blacktopped and empty,

the road seems longer at 4a.m.

I want to go home.

Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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Aleksandra
Blacktopped and empty,

the road seems longer at 4a.m.

I want to go home.

 

I want to go home

where the bread is warm

and the bird sings.

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur
I want to go home

where the bread is warm

and the bird sings.

 

 

 

and the bird sings

on a leafless branch

dusk

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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and the bird sings

on a leafless branch

dusk

 

 

dusk, the sun

sinks behind the mountain

beautiful afterglow

 

 

Hi Everyone,

Glad to be back!

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goldenlangur
dusk, the sun

sinks behind the mountain

beautiful afterglow

 

 

Lovely to see you around Lake icon_smile.gif

 

 

beautiful afterglow

the moon gliding out of

the earth's shadow

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra
beautiful afterglow

the moon gliding out of

the earth's shadow

 

goldenlangur

 

The earth's shadow

covered the flaps of

the bird wings.

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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Aleksandra said:
goldenlangur said:
beautiful afterglow
the moon gliding out of
the earth's shadow
                             goldenlangur

The earth's shadow
covered the flaps of
the bird wings.

the bird wings
new tar black, tucked tight
weary from flight

~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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the bird wings

new tar black, tucked tight

weary from flight

 

weary from flight

falling leaves return

to the root

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Aleksandra
to the root

music flows like rain;

saturates

 

 

Saturates -

the sky with stars,

my mouth - without voice.

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur
Saturates -

the sky with stars,

my mouth - without voice.

 

my mouth - without voice

not that I cannot speak

but that I have no words

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra
my mouth - without voice

not that I cannot speak

but that I have no words

 

 

goldenlangur

 

 

But that I have no words;

that doesn't mean

that I don't have a heart.

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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Aleksandra
that I don't have a heart

the wind carries it to you

love letters

 

 

Love letters

I am writing to you,

with the colorless pen

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur
Love letters

I am writing to you,

with the colorless pen

 

with the colorless pen

I write of light and shadows

in the valley

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra
with the colorless pen

I write of light and shadows

in the valley

 

 

goldenlangur

 

In the valley

the bones rots,

under the down.

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur
In the valley

the bones rots,

under the down.

 

under the down

there is warmth

beyond the sun

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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under the down

there is warmth

beyond the sun

 

 

goldenlangur

 

beyond the sun

is an unknown world

to be explored

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goldenlangur
beyond the sun

is an unknown world

to be explored

 

 

to be explored -

how does it feel

not to be afraid

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra
to be explored -

how does it feel

not to be afraid

 

 

goldenlangur

 

Not to be afraid

from the destiny hand

the wheel rotates.

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur
Not to be afraid

from the destiny hand

the wheel rotates.

 

the wheel rotates

in rain and sun

another rhythm

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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the wheel rotates

in rain and sun

another rhythm

 

goldenlangur

 

another rhythm

birds sing to flowers again

another spring

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Aleksandra
another rhythm

birds sing to flowers again

another spring

 

another spring

another life flows

in her crystal eyes.

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur
another spring

another life flows

in her crystal eyes.

 

in her crystal eyes

the first crescent

through clouds

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra
in her crystal eyes

the first crescent

through clouds

 

 

goldenlangur

 

through clouds

vanished sun

cries for light.

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur
through clouds

vanished sun

cries for light.

 

What anguish Aleksandra!

 

 

cries for light

borne by the wind

and withered leaves

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra
through clouds

vanished sun

cries for light.

 

What anguish Aleksandra!

 

 

cries for light

borne by the wind

and withered leaves

 

 

goldenlangur

 

Thank you goldenlangur icon_smile.gif

 

and withered leaves

and barren trees

...and poor child - alone.

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur
and withered leaves

and barren trees

...and poor child - alone.

 

and poor child - alone

on the marble steps

of the church

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra
and poor child - alone

on the marble steps

of the church

 

 

goldenlangur

 

Ah I love this one, you stopped me for a moment icon_eek.gif

 

Aleksandra icon_smile.gif

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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goldenlangur

Thank you Aleksandra.

 

A "poor child - alone" - brought to mind associations with Christ and abandoned children.

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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goldenlangur said:
Aleksandra said:
and withered leaves
and barren trees
...and poor child - alone.

and poor child - alone
on the marble steps
of the church
                 goldenlangur

of the church
with its high arched doors open
respite for His flock

 

~~tink

~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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goldenlangur
of the church

with its high arched doors open

respite for His flock

 

~~tink

 

respite for his flock

in the spring sun -

a sting in its tail

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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goldenlangur said:
Tinker said:
of the church
with its high arched doors open
respite for His flock
                        ~~jvg

respite for his flock
in the spring sun -
a sting in its tail

                 goldenlangur

I love it, I was wondering how someone was going to handle that last line of mine. You did it perfectly gl.

a sting in its tail
the caped manta owns the sea
deadly grace

~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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goldenlangur
a sting in its tail

the caped manta owns the sea

deadly grace

 

Thank you Tink icon_biggrin.png

 

deadly grace

its wings blot out the sun

a dark sea bed

 

 

 

goldenlangur

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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deadly grace

its wings blot out the sun

a dark sea bed

 

 

 

goldenlangur

 

a dark sea bed

alighted by glowing fish

little mermaid sings

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goldenlangur
a dark sea bed

alighted by glowing fish

little mermaid sings

 

little mermaid sings

from her seaweed throne

under the Great Bear

 

 

goldenlangur icon_smile.gif

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Aleksandra
little mermaid sings

from her seaweed throne

under the Great Bear

 

 

goldenlangur icon_smile.gif

 

under the Great Bear

I see faces in shade

smiling and bleeding

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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