Filth, rain, and street
The blood, smoke, and spit
Inhale the stench, inhale it deep
The ****, beggars, and *****

Drugs, hate, and graffiti
Here, clean is as scarce as mercy
Dignity is currency

Sail far my shivering heart
Away from her name
Row fast, my dear, row away
A planet between you and her name
Half an hour flight back

Prismatic pillars,
street puddles and tiled roof brown
a sunset playground

The fingers of dusk
tease the streetlamps' petals open
the city inhales

I watch the city burn
Through the vignette windows
Of tear-gassed souls.

And hell's fire ablaze
Between cracks of tears
Of childhood fears

Green violins and caramel wings
My heart shivers as the cricket call
For his love in midnight wings.

The cold moon sings a silver anthem
In tune with the cricket's howl
For his love who's writing this poem.

The front door is open
waiting for love to peek

drawing the blinds open
August, in blue grey sweater
greets me with
'I hope you treat me better'

and you sat on the edge of my bed
cigarette tangled with sunset light
the tattoo of a spine flows
back into the sea of sheets

And I die beside this sky-****** pond
my fingers interrupting its Great Movement
silks intertwined with locks of green grass
all the locks in my pride-****** heart
exploded.

I've grown older, sicker, disappearing
reappearances of the past did little
to comfort, brighten, heal my days.
not that I much of it left.
And for the first time
My sunsets are countable
never before I felt more accountable
for my pleasures, riches, kins,
Time.
Never before I've been more afraid
of what comes after than death itself
and less passionate or care
of what mattered before.

Foliage in golden blue
The voyage sea blooms in cherry
And black essences.
The city screams its existence
As the morn creeps on its streets:
Its black essences.
Look at this view, my love
Its ugly yet poetic.
Its me yet you.

wont you pack yourself a cigarette, dear
fill your casette with your favourite songs
it'll be a long journey they say
the longest we will ever go
wear your favourite dress maybe
dont forget your extra blouse
in case you wanna get married along the way
in case you wanna let go
I'll pack an extra toothbrush, dear
I'll leave my pride by the door
I'll leave my phone by the counter
I'll leave a note beside it
let my mother know you're safe
in case we wanna get married along the way
in case we never came back

an egg hatched from a silver bird
at first I thought it was a star
a drop of blood from the universe
but then closer
I saw it was Icarus, offal of sun
a moment later:
a cloth of blue-shadow
few seconds more:
a bulk of flesh and sorrow
tumbling down, returning
to earth.
It was as if I was watching
the birth of man
but then simultaneously
its end.

here's a poem for the dove on the street
the fluttering hearts of men
the whirlpool and tides of the coffee in a mug
the tinkering of a can slowly roll and stop
under a sky crowded of clouds.

Oh what I can do to see and wonder
Upon the sky's garments?
That blue coat over her silver-lined feathers
And her violet robe over her silver emblems.

That red saree which on many morns I swoon
And her black dress that hides a hundred moon.

When the music of the wind is despondent
And cold, a grey sweatshirt she'll put on,
Stitches of tears etched on the firmament ,
what's the color of depression? of mourn?

But when the globes has stopped its flow
And her gilded crown regain its place,
She'll don, with swelling pride, her rainbow
Scarf and her cardigan, pearl as her face.

Oh what I can do to wonder and see
Her gowns, her armor, her star'd necklace
To write in characters, to write in poesy
Her eyes, her storm, her star'd fingers.



                                     the sunset marches in
                                     the sun leaves, she stays
                                     the morn slips in
                                     the moon leaves, she stays
                                     garments and all.

If my mind was a candle
The brighter the flame, the smaller i'll be
If it were my pride
The smoke wont be there
For pupils to see

If my heart was a candle
I'll know which flame is which
If it were my eyes
My tears will be the flame that teach

If my legs were candles
I wont follow the wind
If it were my arms
The lights will o'erflow till the very brim

If my life was a candle
It'll burn in God's way
If it was my death
I'll go out burning
And not being blown away

Like stars
Packing the ebbed moon
                    I packed nothing--

The soul insists
"Don't be a fool, take something"
                    My mother tongue

And the bee's shadow tesselate
the sunflower's skin
2 constellations merged;
two different equations of the universe
exchanging information
about the death of Us.

When did I start to search
For a star amongst the mortals in the class.  
When did I start to wait
For a pair of eyes, pearls they are,
To enter late to every Monday class
When did my legs start to shake
When the sun is absent because she was sick
When did flowers become possible to bloom
Around a person.
Or is it my eyes who can only perceive them around her
When did her smile became so contagious
Her laughter, even behind a mask, pierce
My heart and all its love seeped into my system
Her mere presence makes a day
It makes a day more worth living for

I am a cracked vase
But that's alright
Now my heart can view the world
From its own place
And not from the mouth
Anymore
Now let the ocean fill me
I'll give the ocean back
I am a cracked vase

The smoke divides rolls flies
Combined multiplied fades
Darken blacken lost
Redden yellowed grey
Lost again
Bloomed bear fruits
Bear solutions
Found again
Crushed stepped squeaked
Forgotten

The fingers of time
froze the autumn's pond
for snowdrops to bloom

Death is autumn's end
fallen leaves meet the rising snow
Let there be snowdrops

Melt all the trumpets the trombones                                                                              
The bones of drums fed to the dogs                                                                                  
slit the cowhide’s belly cleave
the guitar open
see if you can find history
the muse of children running
their pulses are singing ‘Negaraku’

Poetry is dead
The sky remains pillarless
The hills still sing

Gardens of deep blue
scrolls of mountain passes
stories unwritten

Postcards from roses
yellow pages of summer
sylvan letters to read

Poetry is dead
The Arctic remains south
Nightingales still sing

why must you, sand, be holding
my toes like a lover?
we have no electric bond
between nor magic keeping
us together
no rush of blood to the head
sharing pictures of each other bed
no sunflower regrets
I don't even know your favorite
flower. That I do regret.
but still here you are, your body
of salts and rocks and sea-essence
gripping white-knuckled
to my ****** toes.
like someone desperate to let go.

person 1          ****
person 2          what's wrong?
person 1          my wallet, its not in my pocket!
person 2          have you checked in your brain?

lights off, end of play.

and maybe that hanging cloth
was not a ghost in the bedim light
maybe that light was a forest burn
the sea could be a graveyard
the mountains, where people truly live
could death be a hanging cloth
oh how light is life!

And my boat, afloat
Between two worlds alike

the sky is the sea
and the sea, the sky

the stars glide like pirate ships
the turtles abide the celestial law

We wish upon jellyfishes

and the pulsars sent an electric tide
pulsating like waves to ears

Lighthouses are spheres

And the muse of whales—
Ethereal quietude of space

1.
if by anxiety's breath the limbs are chain'd
to the bed, the floor, the bathroom floor
weariness from yester-pain
weariness from the world beyond the door

if the pinions of sorrow
fly o'erhead or below
from news of loss or news of war
of what makes those tears flow
and flow

if by hate the blood is red
seeping from wounds of thoughts
and tongues that twist and spread
fire, great fire of the droughts

if the path sought appears long and same
the trees same green and the air heavy
till you cant breathe or say a lover's name
or love itself tastes old and dusty

if the world disappoints
                     and disappoints...
                                      
2.
Train to restrain Your fists
Your tongues and thoughts
Fall not into the yester-pit
the opaque mists it bought

Train to restrain the sorrow
make a path anew, paint the trees
a different hue
Let those tears bring a new flow
let not the rage mist follow

the world is just a point
                       a speck; pointless

Never will life be featherlight nor any lost be too heavy
take your oxygen one sip at a time don't rush the blood
to your body let the devil roam the flesh floor of your head
keep an angel fresh on each shoulder keep tomorrow ahead
tidy up your bed you should hold her after that don't be
a lawyer mama said be a law breaker be a jaw breaker always have
in your pocket a five and a deal breaker stash your jokes
under your sleeves a comeback beside your dagger five
feet from a gold digger learn the word ****** and never use it
keep some honesty always use it keep in mind that you're
not alone some stones will call you ugly but that's because
they're ****** some rocks will call you beautiful because you are
just be who you are

INMAD
NESSO
RLIGH
TISHA
LLSPE
AKETH

A thousand eyes east
hidden between nectars and bees,
a poet's skull.

A thousand light down
The floor tastes of salt and words
Of poems unworded

what nature really did was actually
letting go slowly
the skin of our faces

what was once tight and pegged to the skull
the sides burn of glorious pink
the lips touched red

now full of pockets
lessons perched on each soft cleavage
yesterdays: sunspots

Today: A blessing
Tomorrow I hope
my son will come visit