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Tiny Minds

Each tiny creature

Moving with other brethren

Like a pack of wolves

Like a swarm of fish

Sticking together

Keepers for each other

A single line of thought running through them all?

Whose hand made these?

From what were these crafted out?

Do they ever wonder, why they all have to stick together?

Do they ever want out?

Do they get to decide?

Do they begrudge us for being so much better?

Larger, cleverer, much more higher beings?

More in touch with our inner self?

If they could understand, we’d make them aware.. it’s all overrated

They move in droves

Who leads them?

One finds food and invites the others

Have they not learned to be selfish?

If they survive, they survive together

If they die, they die together

These creatures inevitably, be on the brink of extinction

Wait, perhaps they evolved better than us?

Perhaps, both the weak and strong can co-exist

Perhaps, the terms ‘prey’ and ‘predator’ have no meaning for them

Perhaps, they have found a way to keep living- without competing

Perhaps, they have found a way, and are higher than us

Perhaps, these have found a way, through their selflessness.

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Tenderly.. by Hyacinth Amutalla Murphy

He touched me

Not with his hands

Something more electrifying

Something that set my heart racing

Something that set me ablaze

He touched me tenderly

He touched me gently

He touched me intimately

But all from afar

I smiled a little smile
for him

A secret smile

A knowing smile

Letting him know
there could be tender moments

Maybe a hand touch

Maybe a naughty wink

Maybe a distant kiss

Or a slow dance

Tenderly his eyes
touched me ..

To the core.

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The Person in the Mirror

I am superficial and stuck-up

Probably one of the meanest people you’ll ever meet

Call me pretentious, a hypocrite

You’d be right

Very few people really know me

Very few people that include…myself and I

I extend my help, not really

You just have something I want

I’m as beautiful and spellbindingly alluring as you’d imagine a human goddess-of love

You want to know me

I seem achingly innocent

But if you saw how twisted and dark my heart is

If you tasted my heart and your tongue felt its spikes

You’d know that all you see is a charade

As when a wild lion sits meekly and lets you pet it.


Through the Fence

The Phoblography

IMG_7543 by davebignell1
IMG_7543, a photo by davebignell1 on Flickr.

Taken on 30th October 2013 using a Canon EOS 7D. Taken in Buckland Abbey, Devon, UK.

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Whatever is not Stone

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