I arise early with an

Attentive mood

Looking back to last summer

And my 5 a.m. necessary release

Reading my expressive mind

Remembering the struggle

Of what I left behind

My love
Her life
Our connection

But not my passion
That was kept

and Intensified

That ******* can hurt
Pushing on my solar plexus
And chest

Longing
and
Searching

I don’t feel that way
anymore

Someone has a fancy
For My Fire

You don't need no surgery to hide your wrinkle.
You're beautiful, as you are.
You don't have to dye your hair.
To hide the grey.
Nothing has changed about me in anyway.

Youth, might have faded, as years went by.
But I love you more than ever before.
You don't have to toss out your older wear.
Cause I'm not attracted to no younger girl.
Nothing has changed about my love.

You in my eyes, is still beautiful.

I wouldn't.
Just couldn't trade you in like a new automobile.
We have broken each other in.
We know our ways.
We know our minds.
And that took a few years.
And that patience has came with time.

You in my eyes,is magnificent.

We are made  for each other.
I just want you to know I'm still your true lover.
Nothing has changed.
This you must believe.

You're still a thrill tome.

Dark is coming all around
What for, are you waiting on the ground?
I never saw love yet found
Time is no more passing sound

Bird is flying so far away -
And you are seeking your own way
The home was indicating To-Let
But I had done too late -

@ Musfiq us shaleheen

don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.

be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain

who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.

juggling mates
and
attitudes

their
confusion is
constant

and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.

beware of them:
one of their
key words is
"love."

and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God

for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.

don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone

for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.

I am a dog walking
backwards

I am a broken
banjo

I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio

I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.

put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.

I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.

it was the first time I'd
realized
that.

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

to be distanced.
to be aloof.
to be that wolf.
with my pack,
who supports my back.