<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902</id><updated>2012-02-07T06:53:29.439-08:00</updated><category term='Unspoken'/><category term='abstract'/><category term='feelings'/><title type='text'>Simply Me</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-5994625762300232002</id><published>2012-01-10T00:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T00:08:17.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Little Girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today i met a little girl,&lt;br /&gt;so hopeful and so happy..&lt;br /&gt;today i met a little girl&lt;br /&gt;oh she was so lovable and chirpy...&lt;br /&gt;i thought i knew the little girl,&lt;br /&gt;she sounded so familiar...&lt;br /&gt;i thought i met the little girl&lt;br /&gt;but that was &amp;nbsp;much earlier...&lt;br /&gt;i wanted to talk to the little girl,&lt;br /&gt;she smiled as she looked at me,&lt;br /&gt;i thought i saw the little girl,&lt;br /&gt;laugh at my life's irony...&lt;br /&gt;i thought i heard the little girl,&lt;br /&gt;teach me how to live...&lt;br /&gt;i thought i felt the little girl,&lt;br /&gt;did for all these years me forgive..&lt;br /&gt;i thought i'd ask the little girl,&lt;br /&gt;to tell me what it meant...&lt;br /&gt;i thought she told me, that little girl,&lt;br /&gt;she felt i should have lived...&lt;br /&gt;i thought that the little girl,&lt;br /&gt;did in the end show me the truth...&lt;br /&gt;i thought i let the little girl,&lt;br /&gt;show me that even realities are full of mirth...&lt;br /&gt;i thought i'd escape the little girl,&lt;br /&gt;so i left her before she could...&lt;br /&gt;i thought i killed forever the little girl,&lt;br /&gt;forgetting come back she would...&lt;br /&gt;i thought i conjured the little girl,&lt;br /&gt;for i never knew what i should...&lt;br /&gt;i thought it was a lie, the little girl,&lt;br /&gt;for it was me in my childhood...&lt;br /&gt;there were those promises i made to the little girl,&lt;br /&gt;there was a life to live...&lt;br /&gt;the truth it was never mine,oh my dear girl&lt;br /&gt;i gave more than i had to give...&lt;br /&gt;i killed her for my love i did,&lt;br /&gt;i killed her with my own bare hands...&lt;br /&gt;i wrought her neck, i twisted it,&lt;br /&gt;she lost, was my love so grand?&lt;br /&gt;you would want me for manslaughter,&lt;br /&gt;you would want me dead...&lt;br /&gt;you wouldn't want to know what happened,&lt;br /&gt;coz you wouldn't believe what you read...&lt;br /&gt;i loved the little girl so much,&lt;br /&gt;oh it hurt me it really did...&lt;br /&gt;i killed the little girl myself,&lt;br /&gt;before by others she was killed,&lt;br /&gt;i don't blame, no not one for that&lt;br /&gt;i did all of it decide...&lt;br /&gt;the little girl that once had lived,&lt;br /&gt;did truly in me reside...&lt;br /&gt;a little girl, she was so naive,&lt;br /&gt;she did in dreams believe...&lt;br /&gt;she thought the world was what it seemed,&lt;br /&gt;she did to each, all her give...&lt;br /&gt;the little girl so bruised and hurt,&lt;br /&gt;i just could not let her live...&lt;br /&gt;and so i left the little girl,&lt;br /&gt;please if you could, me forgive...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-5994625762300232002?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/5994625762300232002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2012/01/little-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/5994625762300232002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/5994625762300232002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2012/01/little-girl.html' title='The Little Girl'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-6858525948720576493</id><published>2011-02-20T00:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T22:31:32.889-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;A&amp;nbsp;lifetime of hurt in&amp;nbsp;her eyes,&lt;br /&gt;A lifetime of pain, a life time of lies. &lt;br /&gt;A lifetime that screams of betrayal, &lt;br /&gt;A&amp;nbsp;lifetime of dreams unreal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lifetime of promises unkept,&lt;br /&gt;A lifetime of blows dealt.&lt;br /&gt;A lifetime of&amp;nbsp;vows broken,&lt;br /&gt;A lifetime of words unspoken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lifetime filled with regret,&lt;br /&gt;A lifetime of tears shed.&lt;br /&gt;A lifetime of dreams shattered,&lt;br /&gt;A lifetime of feelings battered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lifetime so unwanted, &lt;br /&gt;A lifetime of ties unbonded.&lt;br /&gt;A lifetime of pain, a life time of lies,&lt;br /&gt;A lifetime of hurt in her eyes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-6858525948720576493?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/6858525948720576493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2011/02/life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/6858525948720576493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/6858525948720576493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2011/02/life.html' title='A Life'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-3222833613908901753</id><published>2010-12-03T02:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-03T02:08:01.674-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Unspoken'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abstract'/><title type='text'>A Fool's Confession</title><content type='html'>Dreams are but dreams...fickle minded imagination creating some very extraordinary bouts of hope...hope that the world is as simple as you see it...even when reality strikes with full force, a slap bang across the face, a wake up call you can't ignore....yet stupid stupid heart refuses to listen... there is so much pain, so much loss and yet it pays no heed.... there is no reason, no logic to such things..... As they say "&lt;i&gt;heart does things for reasons, reason can't understand".........&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-3222833613908901753?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/3222833613908901753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2010/12/fools-confession.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/3222833613908901753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/3222833613908901753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2010/12/fools-confession.html' title='A Fool&apos;s Confession'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-8847205564866764504</id><published>2010-09-07T03:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T03:21:31.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>एक रात</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;कल रात एक जाम के ऊपर&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;उनसे मुलाक़ात हुई&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;आँखों से कुछ लफ्ज़ कहे&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;हर लफ्ज़ में एक बात हुई&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;अजनबी सी शक्सियत थी&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;अजनबी रहने की डरकर हुई&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;एक कांपती सी लोह थी&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;कांपती बातों की ज़ंजीर हुई&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;उस एक पल की जैसे साज़िश थी&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;खुद में ज़िन्दगी समेटने की&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;और उस एक पल से लिपट जाने की&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;आरजू भी खूब हुई&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;इस रात का कोई अंजाम ना हो&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;दिल की यह फरियाद हुई&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;कुछ में बहुत कुछ कहने की तम्मना&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;लफ़्ज़ों से अनजान जस्बातों में हर बात&amp;nbsp;हुई&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;एक कशिश सी ख्वाब बनके&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;कुछ ऐसे&amp;nbsp;ज़ेहन में उतर गयी&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;उस रात में जैसे क़ैद सारी ख्वाहिशें&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;बस यादें बन&amp;nbsp;महबूब हुई&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-8847205564866764504?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/8847205564866764504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/8847205564866764504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/8847205564866764504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2010/09/blog-post.html' title='एक रात'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-4256580413178452885</id><published>2010-08-31T23:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T23:19:26.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whispered Wish</title><content type='html'>It was a bright summer day,&amp;nbsp;yet rain fell on, large drops&amp;nbsp;as if lashing out in anger. The sun was soon to be shadowed, a vicious harbinger of times to be. Yet she had no inkling of what fate had in store for her, what storm would wreck her life as this one ended. She was innocent, so pure, her belief in every thing was complete, so perfect, so unwavering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She believed life was beautiful and love was what fed it. She believed that caring was living and love, defined it. Wrapped in her own little dream world, little did she know it would all come crashing down. And while she would be left with pieces to pick, it would be those she loved that would cause the pain. Everything gambled for pure selfish pleasure. It was dark and vile and yet it was what was to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is unfair they used to tell her, yet she believed in its parity. Love can hurt they would tell her, she only believed it healed. She said she wasn't afraid of shadows, the darkness of which they spoke, for her life was full of light, she was only grateful for the man she loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Cupid doesn't last for long, and Gods can be merciless too. Beautiful times don't last, They can be cruel, cruel with all their might. And as she saw the darkness, the pain that came with it, standing desolate, with a shadow cast upon her dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She still had but one wish, she wished that man would have just understood her, love was a far cry off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-4256580413178452885?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/4256580413178452885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2010/08/whispered-wish.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/4256580413178452885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/4256580413178452885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2010/08/whispered-wish.html' title='Whispered Wish'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-3376666227841689946</id><published>2010-07-12T06:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T06:40:32.069-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Lifetime</title><content type='html'>A perfect day,&lt;br /&gt;a perfect smile,&lt;br /&gt;a perfect start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wishful eyes,&lt;br /&gt;bated breath,&lt;br /&gt;dreamy touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinful wait,&lt;br /&gt;daring questions,&lt;br /&gt;incomplete answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Untold truths,&lt;br /&gt;screaming lies,&lt;br /&gt;complete&amp;nbsp;betrayal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A perfect night,&lt;br /&gt;a perfect tear,&lt;br /&gt;a perfect end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-3376666227841689946?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/3376666227841689946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2010/07/lifetime.html#comment-form' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/3376666227841689946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/3376666227841689946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2010/07/lifetime.html' title='A Lifetime'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-2379832322482828937</id><published>2010-06-06T04:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-06T04:56:48.115-07:00</updated><title type='text'>एक लहर</title><content type='html'>कैसा है ये बंधन, जो बनने से पहले टूट जाता है?&lt;br /&gt;कैसी गांठ है यह, जो बंधने से पहले खुल जाती है?&lt;br /&gt;कैसी है यह ख़ामोशी, जो हर सच बयां करती है?&lt;br /&gt;कैसा है यह लम्हा जिसमे सारी ज़िन्दगी बिखर जाती&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;है?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;क्यों हर लहर धरा से मिलने से पहले सिमट जाती है?&lt;br /&gt;क्यों समुन्दर को आशियाँ बना, धरती&amp;nbsp;से को ललचाती है?&lt;br /&gt;यही&amp;nbsp;मर्ज़ी&amp;nbsp;है इस&amp;nbsp;उफनती&amp;nbsp;लहर की, तो क्यों ये&amp;nbsp;इतना&amp;nbsp;मचलती&amp;nbsp;है?&lt;br /&gt;क्यों करती है कोशिश&amp;nbsp;माटी एक कतरे में सामने की?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;यह कैसा नाता है बेनाम जिसे कायनात जोड़ती और तोड़ती रहती है?&lt;br /&gt;क्यों इस सन्नाटे को चीरता शोर किसी को सुनाई नहीं देता?&lt;br /&gt;एक पल में हर दर्द किस गहराई में डूब जाता है,&lt;br /&gt;इन&amp;nbsp;लभों पर एक झूठी हँसी खेलने लगती है&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;और रह जाता है जीवन का एक&amp;nbsp;सच - की यह लहर फिर लौटेगी,&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;फिर इस समुन्द्र की गहरायिओं से निकल कर&lt;br /&gt;फिर इस धरा में सिमट जाने को तरसेगी और तब तक मचलेगी&lt;br /&gt;जब तक यह धरा उसे अपना न ले या उसमे समां ना जाये.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-2379832322482828937?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/2379832322482828937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2010/06/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/2379832322482828937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/2379832322482828937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2010/06/blog-post.html' title='एक लहर'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-4238192144370520585</id><published>2010-03-08T20:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T20:58:47.614-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feelings'/><title type='text'>Memories</title><content type='html'>The creaking door leads into an empty courtyard.&lt;br /&gt;The floor is strewn with leaves that have grown crisp with age.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing seems out of place. Yet, none where it was left.&lt;br /&gt;It's all one big picture.&lt;br /&gt;So complete in all its completeness.&lt;br /&gt;It does not feel strange.&lt;br /&gt;No, not strange at all,&lt;br /&gt;for this is not the only that has been ravaged by time.&lt;br /&gt;The clock has ticked on, ages have gone by&lt;br /&gt;still here are smells as fresh as yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;It is what I dream of, a sincere dream,&lt;br /&gt;still only a figment of my imagination.&lt;br /&gt;A single thread that refuses to break, I refuse to let go.&lt;br /&gt;A faint whisper talks about the days gone by -&lt;br /&gt;beautiful, painful, dreams, realities all woven together.&lt;br /&gt;There are those that came true,&lt;br /&gt;there are those that were shattered.&lt;br /&gt;There are those that stayed mine,&lt;br /&gt;there are those that were snatched away.&lt;br /&gt;Each plays before my eyes as I walk on.&lt;br /&gt;There are no complaints, no resigned ambitions now.&lt;br /&gt;What remains is a longing to live it all again,&lt;br /&gt;a hollow desire, an empty wish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-4238192144370520585?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/4238192144370520585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2010/03/creaking-door-leads-into-empty.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/4238192144370520585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/4238192144370520585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2010/03/creaking-door-leads-into-empty.html' title='Memories'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-1326301401914649675</id><published>2010-02-17T07:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T07:46:55.821-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;There is a sweet nothingness about the way you make me feel, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;a gentleness so unknown to me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;a pursuance so alien &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Yet you make me more familiar to myself than I can ever be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Sometimes I know you and at others I don't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Sometimes I think we belong to each other&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;still there are more that take you away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;You, my enigma, are my solution. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Your presence hovering over me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;governing my every move, even my breath&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;your love, your emotions, your fear, all so palpable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;We both sense it, a distance grows and I hate it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;There is so much to say -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;so many words, phares, sentences&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;all suddenly go so quaint and ridiculous before you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Few make any sense and it seems I have never cared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;My silence is my witness &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;when your thoughts rush in the dead of nights.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I may never own it, it may not seem true&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;It is in my own ways I have cared and I still do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;There is no logic to these things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I have heard them say and have come to believe so too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Your life runs by reason&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#CCFFFF;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;For me you are reason enough. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-1326301401914649675?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/1326301401914649675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2010/02/conversation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/1326301401914649675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/1326301401914649675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2010/02/conversation.html' title='Conversation'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-128382549352125712</id><published>2010-02-14T09:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T10:16:09.386-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abstract'/><title type='text'>Bonds and Bondages</title><content type='html'>purple, yellow, red, orange, pink&lt;div&gt;a multitude of colors&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;today, tomorrow, forever..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;then Black&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;radiant music, sinful ecstasy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a cacophony&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;today, tomorrow, forever..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;then Silence&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sweet, sour, bitter, smooth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;an essence &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;today, tomorrow, forever..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;then Platitude&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mirth, tears, frowns&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a desire&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;today, tomorrow, forever..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;then Distance&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-128382549352125712?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/128382549352125712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2010/02/bonds-and-bondages.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/128382549352125712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/128382549352125712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2010/02/bonds-and-bondages.html' title='Bonds and Bondages'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-459159894481658041</id><published>2009-11-18T10:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T11:27:38.514-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Unspoken'/><title type='text'>In search of a name</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I wrote these lines the other day, they simply flowed out of me as I sat through one of my lectures. It has been a couple of days since I wrote them but what kept me from posting was search of a title for them. But as it is I still am at a loss and hence am posting them without one. Suggestions are welcome :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFCC;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF99;"&gt;Aankhon ne dekha ek chehra, to nagma tarash liya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF99;"&gt;khwabon mein tasveer ko kuch aise saja liya,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF99;"&gt;ki banda bhool gaya hakikat ke faslon ko,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF99;"&gt;har aansun ko khushi ke moti bana gaya. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF99;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF99;"&gt;Aisa sitam na kare khuda koi khudi par,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF99;"&gt;ki khwabon ko apni sachai samajh kar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF99;"&gt;Khud se naaraz hone ki itni khata kar jaye &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFF99;"&gt;ki guzaare zindagi fir unhi nagmon se mehroom ho kar. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-459159894481658041?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/459159894481658041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/459159894481658041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/459159894481658041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html' title='In search of a name'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-5449963082004967471</id><published>2009-11-08T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T11:22:37.181-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Iktara</title><content type='html'>This post is not something that I created. It is just a song that has really touched me, after a very long time a song came so close to my heart, so couldn't help putting it here for my memories...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, geneva, lucida, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(221, 221, 221); "&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Orey manva tu to bavra hai&lt;br /&gt;Tu hi jaane tu kya sochta hai&lt;br /&gt;Tu hi jaane tu kya sochta hai bavre&lt;br /&gt;Kyun dikhaye sapne tu sote jaagte&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Jo barse sapne boond boond&lt;br /&gt;Nainon ko moond moond&lt;br /&gt;Jo barse sapne boond boond&lt;br /&gt;Nainon ko moond moond&lt;br /&gt;Kaise main chaloon, dekh na sakoon&lt;br /&gt;Anjaane raastein&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Gunjasa hai koi iktara iktara, gunjasa hai koi iktara&lt;br /&gt;Dheeme bole koi iktara iktara, dheeme bole koi iktara&lt;br /&gt;Gunjasa hai koi iktara iktara, gunjasa hai koi iktara&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sun rahi hoon sudh budh khoke koi main kahani&lt;br /&gt;Poori kahani hai kya kise hai pata&lt;br /&gt;Main to kisiki hoke yeh bhi na jaani&lt;br /&gt;Ruth hai ye do pal ki ya rehgi sada&lt;br /&gt;kise hai pata… kise hai pata&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Jo barse sapne boond boond&lt;br /&gt;Nainon ko moond moond&lt;br /&gt;Jo barse sapne boond boond&lt;br /&gt;Nainon ko moond moond&lt;br /&gt;Kaise main chaloon, dekh na sakoon&lt;br /&gt;Anjaane raastein&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Gunjasa hai koi iktara iktara, gunjasa hai koi iktara&lt;br /&gt;Dheeme bole koi iktara iktara, dheeme bole koi iktara&lt;br /&gt;Gunjasa hai koi iktara iktara, gunjasa hai koi iktara&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;.....................................................&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-5449963082004967471?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/5449963082004967471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2009/11/iktara.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/5449963082004967471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/5449963082004967471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2009/11/iktara.html' title='Iktara'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-2261370144862843020</id><published>2009-10-20T06:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T13:13:23.528-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Comatose Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;When do the tears stop?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;When does the heart refrain?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;The flow of question never ebbs,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;Then does the search for answers ever begin?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;There is a different beauty to life,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;Even when the heart is dull&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;As the senses feel nothing but are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;Everything just stays still. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;The color of the lenses lie altered&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;it is a different hue I see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;Still my lips do turn to smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;I still laugh at the irony.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;I wish to let go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;what my heart still holds dear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;My being lies smeared in wrath and pain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;As I still strive to forgive. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;I am so tired. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;Emotions have turned to emptiness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;My strength does fail me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;I can no longer hold on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#003300;"&gt;Or is it because I no longer wish? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-2261370144862843020?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/2261370144862843020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2009/10/comatose-life.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/2261370144862843020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/2261370144862843020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2009/10/comatose-life.html' title='A Comatose Life'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-1092273480356134782</id><published>2009-07-20T14:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T14:48:52.805-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why not the Grey?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt; Thoughts drive me crazy, for they never seem to end. They seem to pervade every bit of my being and then when I feel I am done there are some more. It’s most odd, for I wasn’t always so. Or was I?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;It is strange when I sit and contemplate, strange ‘coz it is almost an assortment of contrasts. Black and white of everything, only the greys dull me out. But strangely the affinity for the two extremes is as strong as can be. It only leaves me wondering, where do I belong? I can’t understand the complexity of it all and simplification, I have realized, is not my cup of tea. Then where are the answers? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;Often I wonder, is it just me? Or is it the age, as they say? Or is it that I think beyond my years as most would have me believe? I understand it not. But there is this that I do know. I sense many things that I should not, why I do not know. It is just that there is a pervasive feeling around us all that touches this one chord deep within me, a silent touch of emotion, unspoken, yet so profound. It is strange, as much to me as most of others feel if I ever talk about this. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;There have been many times I have tried to reason things out, within myself, I realize it is imperative that this is the way I do it, for I can’t explain. No, it is beyond me, to even those that I most care for. It is ironic, how those same cannot but see, there is a light that shines, that tries to reach out to them. But there is a fear, a fear that is now there, that now destroys even the murmurs of realization, whispers of understanding to those that may need it most from this one end. May be there shall come a time again when these fears shall fade away, but till then no thought escapes the confines of the mind, shackles have been drawn deep inside and there are many that refuse to give in. There are no answers yet, there have been none. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;And I wait on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-1092273480356134782?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/1092273480356134782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2009/07/why-not-grey.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/1092273480356134782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/1092273480356134782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2009/07/why-not-grey.html' title='Why not the Grey?'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-4306041578046956899</id><published>2009-02-13T13:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T13:07:47.542-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unknown Horizons</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Constant and yet not so,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;the movement is too undefined.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The probable may come true,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but then probable it stays....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;is it the ecstasy of the unknown,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;or the fear of the defined?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;what holds back the essence,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oddity is unbound.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Does it not surprise?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;do no questions raise their ugly head?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;how is it that it is yet so peaceful?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There must be a secret untold....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then let not the slumber be broken,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;there lies no meaning in it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let the words remain unspoken,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;there lies peace withtin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-4306041578046956899?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/4306041578046956899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2009/02/unknown-horizons.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/4306041578046956899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/4306041578046956899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2009/02/unknown-horizons.html' title='Unknown Horizons'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-2931064888802150193</id><published>2009-02-13T12:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T12:58:12.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>POWER</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(42, 66, 12); font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Turmoil beckons; &lt;br /&gt;Enticing rhythmically,&lt;br /&gt;Reaching out for that, which yearns not to be his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The façade of tranquility is just worn,&lt;br /&gt;The purpose is well served. &lt;br /&gt;But not a spirit is left impervious, not a soul untouched.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bear it well, misery it is not.&lt;br /&gt;But there breathe those that draw not a happy breathe,&lt;br /&gt;For breathing is not ample enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why the evasion, is not love addictive enough?&lt;br /&gt;But for those with shackles that blind their vision,&lt;br /&gt;Its meaning is much altered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are those that are happy, for they love their peace.&lt;br /&gt;There are those that are not, for they love not other's peace.&lt;br /&gt;The world is breathing blacker; the latter creed rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still life fights, there is much around.&lt;br /&gt;For a bud denies the thorns the Power,&lt;br /&gt;The Power to rule the heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-2931064888802150193?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/2931064888802150193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2009/02/power.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/2931064888802150193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/2931064888802150193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2009/02/power.html' title='POWER'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-160666964885809902.post-5041686364670732557</id><published>2009-01-23T22:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T22:56:18.634-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abstract'/><title type='text'>Incomplete Perfection</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;The eyes speak a million languages,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Lips part to enchant,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Every breath wet with meaning  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Yet the being so incomplete?   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;  The soul so full of fire,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Face reflects the flame,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Each movement so hypnotic  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Yet the being so incomplete?     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Pristine is the grace  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Incessant is the charm,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Every word is captivating  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Yet the being so incomplete?     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;The heart throbs for no pain  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Silent is all passion  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Soul naught does forbear  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Shall the being then stay complete?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height: normal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/160666964885809902-5041686364670732557?l=living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/feeds/5041686364670732557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2009/01/incomplete-perfection.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/5041686364670732557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/160666964885809902/posts/default/5041686364670732557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://living-on-the-strand.blogspot.com/2009/01/incomplete-perfection.html' title='Incomplete Perfection'/><author><name>freewillie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02528489915278056668</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
