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Round and round and round I whirl
I exist to pirouette, to twirl.

A sea of jewels at my feet shimmer,
They twinkle, glisten, shine and glimmer.

A rich array of cherished treasure,
Of value far too great to measure.

I hear the music as I turn…
The only tune I’ll ever learn.

My pose is ever full of grace,
A smile is fixed upon my face.

My hair is twisted into a perfect pleat
My ballet points laced on my feet.

My pink tutu stands out starched and straight,
As I mechanically revolve, rotate.

My spinning trajectory gently slows
My jolting pivot draws to a close.

And I’ll stand stock still until rewound
To again start swirling round and round.
Wife to husband : you sent this to me in error:
' Shirley darling, my wife is watching, we're in danger!'
Easy to understand and easier to say:
every future will be a yesterday
I don't like girls
have a phobia about their curls
 Apr 2018 Grey mirror
Jobie
Angels sing in celebration
while I lose my mind

Where are you, my love?

I can barely see through this raging storm
of snow and anxiety
My passion keeps me warm
while I search for you

Why did you do it?

I had everything you needed
Though it seems I overestimated
the dosage of love that you needed
You just weren’t ready

Come home
I’m terrified
I miss you

You couldn’t handle the world
and there’s no way you can now
Not with what I’ve done to you

You need me
 Apr 2018 Grey mirror
Rumi
In the orchard and rose garden

I long to see your face.

In the taste of Sweetness

I long to kiss your lips.

In the shadows of passion

I long for your love.



Oh! Supreme Lover!

Let me leave aside my worries.

The flowers are blooming
with the exultation of your Spirit.



By Allah!

I long to escape the prison of my ego

and lose myself
in the mountains and the desert.



These sad and lonely people tire me.

I long to revel in the drunken frenzy of your love
and feel the strength of Rustam in my hands.



I’m sick of mortal kings.

I long to see your light.

With lamps in hand
the sheiks and mullahs roam
the dark alleys of these towns
not finding what they seek.



You are the Essence of the Essence,

The intoxication of Love.

I long to sing your praises
but stand mute
with the agony of wishing in my heart.
I'm kind of stuck
At least... I think I am
Somewhere between telling everyone I know to *******
And "just please come hold me friend"

Some place in between an uneasy heart and hectic mind

"I'm depressed"
Can't I just say it without having to explain why?
Sometimes I don't even know which reason to choose

Short replies

"You seem like you don't want to talk"

You're right, but I also want to reach out
I want out
I want to let go of everything
And capture it all in my arms

like a fire fly in the palm of restless hands,
Just let me hold on to your light
Atleast, just for tonight

Because I'm feeling stuck.
My bleeding here like this -
May it never stop until I have
Taken my very last breath.
And in that last breath may I
Somehow take up my pen
Thrusting it into my chest once again
To make way for the release of that last
Phrase which still anchors itself so
****** deep in my soul.

Oh, to feel it finally ooze from me
Leaving me void of its painful control.
Of which I both love it and I hate it too.
Its double edged influence like God
Himself on the one side giving me hope
While the devil is on the other,
The destroyer of all that I ever hoped.
Oh dear Lord - is not my pen like
A multi-cartridge-d vessel containing
More than just one color?

At times to be blue
When the pain of life draws out that color.
Spilling all my tears
To anyone within my reach.
At other times my pen writes a crimson red,
Letting go of all the love that is in me.
Then to click it yet again to find the black
Darkness that also lives somewhere in my soul.
But there is another color, isn’t there Lord?

Yes, one so silky white in color
That when I write in on this page
No one can ever see it.
That is, no one but you Lord.
So if I leave a white page
With my last dying breath
Perhaps you’ll understand that it’s
Just another note from me to you.

Pulling my pen from my bleeding heart
While taking the last breath I shall write to you:

With the tidings of my fate squarely in your hands oh Lord,
My bleeding has not quite yet stopped.
Here you are to come to administer
Whatever consolation of thy affection
That thy Love has for me.
Dear Lord, receiveth my parting breath
And close my eyes within your blessings.
And when I reawaken let me find myself
Somewhere in the midst of your framework.

Thou hast undoubtedly numbered all of my tears
And placed them in a bottle for safe keeping.
Dear God, thou has always been the framework
For all these words that I bleed upon these pages.
They were all my fancy embracing my feeble knees
Hoping to raise my eyes to bid me into your comfort.
They are all my own blessings like the child within my heart.
Never more so than when I am bleeding here like this
In these words – only then do I feel your principles
Ever present within me.

So take me Lord when my bleeding has stopped
And please don’t be alarmed if even then
My soul dips its finger into my own crimson jell
And one last time with that finger I write

In the name of Love……
This is a repost. I think this is my favorite piece that I wrote many years ago. I still feel this way. Even when I’m not writing I’m always thinking of what to write. If you are as infected as I am about trying to express whatever this is inside of us all - I think you’ll appreciate this piece.
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