Every night I used to sit by the lake
and listen to the loons
Their song was so sad
but its beauty touched my heart
As the sun sunk slowly
into the great mouth of the lake
I felt blessed
being part of it all
As night came on slowly
I prayed for one more day
hoping that if this was my last
I did it right
May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 5:44 PM UTC
I ran through a ****** of crows and stole the feather of an albatross from the beak of a dragon sleeping high in a tree under the cover of fading autumn leaves and climbed upon its back and flew through a tale of time where eternity was frozen and carved into flying fish and I awoke in a mid-winters dream and you were there burning the lost pages of my soul with the fire burning from your lips and you were painting a song on the walls of my heart in a language my eyes did not recognize but my blood translated every word into magic and hung each into the fabric of the indigo night sky and I traded you my heart for your hand and we danced with fingers locked and palms embraced and we left behind a prismatic kaleidoscope of madness in the wakes of our steps and fell into the seamless marriage of lust to love and heaven to hell and your sins became my virtues and my sins became your prayers and nothing we did needed forgiving for it was all in an act and dream of love
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 8:37 PM UTC
It was like puling off a bandaid.
Slow and painful at first, but as soon as you grab the edges, tug on it a bit and feel that its not that bad... you rip the whole thing off.
he grabbed my edges, tugged on it to see my reaction and as soon as we both felt it wasn't that bad... he let it rip.
I grabbed on his arm when he pulled the bandaid too hard
but the pain filled me.
It filled me with lines of ' this is it' , 'this is what you asked for', 'you're finally the last one' and the biggest one...'its gonna be him'.
And once the bandaid was ripped off, questions filled me of
'what happens now'
'what do we do now?' and
'Do we do this again?'.
But I don't have answers to these questions, nor do I have guts to ask him.
I never thought id be considering taking my bandaid off,
nevertheless asking him to do it.
But now the bandaid is off, and the scar there for everyone to see.
but I don't see a scar.
I see him.
I just don't know if when he looks at his bandaid, he see me.
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 8:18 PM UTC
A crimson boat waives
the flow of the waves
as a blonde damsel craves
an infernal sun.
Next to the maiden
and the dandy-fella,
blossoms a vermillion
umbrella
whose washed out shadow
played the shady cellar
for two green apples
and one apricot
the blonde damsel hungrily
had bought
to quench her own fiery
want
of the lustful monster.
Closing her ice-blue eyes,
the fair woman,
her sinful inspiration
did she summon
to come carve
on her body so sullen
a scarlet picture
of the new Benzart bridge.
© LazharBouazzi, Carthage, TUNISA
*"Benzart" is the Tunisian name for “Biserta” or “Bizerte”- a beach town on the northern coast of Tunisia.
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 8:17 PM UTC
you wrote to me again, last night. i could feel your strong hands through the crumpled paper, and i was reminded of the way you spoke, of the way your thoughts would float around my room like cherry blossoms, lost in the sweet smell of spring.
and me, lost in the sweet escape of you. the hypnotizing way you brought me into your summer light, and showed me what it was like to live. what it was like to be unafraid. because with you, i never felt scared.
but the sun began to dry up. taking away the dewy, summery days, where you held my hand. your words became fallen autumn leaves, red and orange, as they crunched under the weight of the heavy boots i wore back before the spring.
and this is when the ice came; it frosted up your eyes, and i knew i wouldn't be able to get you back. your hand, that once was filled with life and love, now gave me frostbite; one that i cannot recover from, because you have drained me of everything that i have, and everything that i was.
when i was nine years old, i learned about the seasons. i knew that after spring, came summer. following the summer came fall. and following that, came the winter.
i still wonder why i could never remember my seasons, when it came to you.
Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 6:53 PM UTC
There lies the truth between the lines
or maybe they are lies
Maybe you found them
or maybe i made them find you
Its like an awakening at times
all the emotions unitise
Get high on the sprinklers of deceit which i spell on you
while i weave your reality like a web
the only way out is - that you cannot.
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 10:06 AM UTC
***atrocities of the world
have left me frozen inside
and now all I want
is a place to hide
blood and bullets
flying through the air
brother killing brother
and neither care
babies dying
by the doctors blade
children go missing
girls to slave trade
every night
I lay in bed
pray for the living
and then for the dead
my simple request is
for all to heal
and every child
to get a hot meal
in the end
sister and brother
cause like they say
we only have each other***
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 10:04 AM UTC
The economy is horrible
Hillary is horrible,
Her husband disagrees with her,
so does Bernie,
women are horrible,
me, I'm deplorable,
but NO ONE
respects 'em more than I do
& I mean nobody
yeah just grab 'em by the *****
though you'll never find a quote
that I said,
Mexicans are a problem too,
so we're gonna make a bunch of money,
build a wall,
no limits on assault weapons,
be friends with Putin,
sleep wid' him...hehe,
I gotta plan,
make America great again,
build a really BIG wall
have 105% GDP they say,
I don't believe 'em,
they're liars,
so is Hillary,
she's a nasty, nasty woman,
I may or may not
except the election results,
I'm.gonna keep you in the dark,
sure I'm gonna be a great president,
I run an amazing company,
don't know **** about politics,
but run it my way
and we're all sure to go
to hell
in a handbasket.
***
Say WHAT?
I don't think so,
Deplorable man,
Emotional infant.
Such a big bafoon,
yes he's dangerous,
we can't let it happen,
& that hair,
Seriously,
I can't even go there.
Ma Cherie © 2016
Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 7:47 PM UTC