i hid cigarette
cartons from
my parents as
well as yours
because i knew
it was what you
wanted because
it was what they
abhorred.

© Matthew Harlovic

it does not
matter what
i do because
it does not
matter to you.

© Matthew Harlovic

If I was a mountain

That soared towards the sky,

With craggy snow caps

And stormy grey eyes-



Then you'd be the clouds

That swaddled my peak,

That silenced my thunder

When I tried to speak.



If I was the earth

The desert, in fact:

With arid dry soil

And mud, baked and cracked-



You'd be the rain

The downpour that soothed;

The balm to my bruises,

Relief to my wounds.



If I was the Moon

In the indigo night,

With stars as my blanket

And silver; my light-



Well you'd be the Sun

Just always behind

That lent me your glow

And caused me to shine.

I crossed you in a battle
in a distant land ,
in the Rising Sun Country.

I was ordered
in a new Code of Bushido
in a new mission of injustice.
I followed your steps
courageously
with an unconditional willingness.

I heard the lament of my people
whispering with pain
how long will be tormented…..

A Death Fog Veil
covered the human souls
my breath was iced.

A brave fighter
came to me
was the Last Samurai
I have ever seen….

I was dazzled
by his power.
His sword blazed
like a fire,
sharp as a steel.

Master I yelled
show me the way,
to defend my people
to give my life,
if this is written
to my destiny path.

Teach me the Rules.
Teach me the Code of Honor.
To protect the Law.
To respect my Opponents.
Obedience and Discipline
will be my heavy duty.

He embraced me,
with a peerless wisdom
a breezy air,
blew off my lungs
and he told me silently.

The warriors’ road
is long and never ends
Be Brave my Son!
I kept his last words
as a Promise.

©By Mina Boulekou

I remember last September,
My name disappeared
from the crevices of your brain.

I remember last September,
The pain etched deeply in your eyes -
Trying to remember
But forgetting
The name you gave to your own loved child.

I remember last September,
As words fail to then utter my name.

I remember last September,
Tears rolling down your now changed face.

I remember...
Why didn't you remember me no more?

The plane leaves
fall black and wet
on the lawn;

the cloud sheaves
in heaven’s fields set
droop and are drawn

in falling seeds of rain;
the seed of heaven
on my face

falling — I hear again
like echoes even
that softly pace

heaven’s muffled floor,
the winds that tread
out all the grain

of tears, the store
harvested
in the sheaves of pain

caught up aloft:
the sheaves of dead
men that are slain

now winnowed soft
on the floor of heaven;
manna invisible

of all the pain
here to us given;
finely divisible
falling as rain.

Dora Marsden and Harriet Shaw Weaver. 9/26/2016.

Weekday drinking
With you
It's stupid
But we do so many stupid things together
So this can't be that bad
Weekday drinking
I don't see you everyday
Anymore
I miss you in the weekends
So we bring the weekend to us
Just a little earlier
Weekday drinking*
Something I only wanna do with you
You and I
I love you infinity