A tired fly
Flew past my nose
Its buzz was low
Its speed was slow
It drifted through the heavy air
I know, I saw it go
On by

The cat was sleeping
On a chair
Just lying there
Without a care

Until the fly flew past her nose
To end her doze
The cat she froze

Her green eyes widened
And turned all cold
As cold as gold
If truth be told

The tired fly
Went buzzing by
The cat’s white nose
And I suppose
The cats intention
Was to try
And catch that fly
As it went by

Her paws ****** out
In desperate throttle
To try and ****
The winged bluebottle

The fly escaped
Its hum got higher
Its flight got faster
The cat chased after

Round and round the room they went
The cats neck bent
And furiously sent
The fly on high
Above sharp claws
As she flipped and pawed
The clever fly soared

Until at last
The cat did stop
And off did trot
Like she cared not

To catch a much less mobile snack
Her cat food sat
Upon her mat

The fly is drifting overhead
Its buzz all low
It’s flying slow
And watching out for battle two
When cat is through
With chewing food

And so it goes on every day
Some get away
Some like to play

The cat and fly
They both still try
To take their chance
In life's great dance

Pain is inevitable
It cannot be avoided
It can only be eased
Some drink it away
Others may smoke
We all handle pain differently
Who am I to judge?

Honour to thee, thou goddess of succulent scrumptious beauty,
Before thee, I bow to worship thy spotless enticing purity;
At the aroma of thy fragrance, I breathe an immense sagacity,
My Arabian goddess, thy prowess I honor with my whole creativity.

Thy beauty have ne'er been seen on the face of any woman
Neither the origin of thy irresistible smiles traced to any human,
The radiance of thy smiles outshines the shining pride of the sun;
Thy refin'd personality a rare gem causes every imagination to run.

A fountain of beauty upon whose elegance the sun refuses to shine,
There canne'er be found any symbol of priceless beauty aside thee;
Of a truth, thou art a rare treasure for whose heart I'll go extra mile;
My Arabian goddess, for thy sake I'll forsake the world to be with thee.

Thy beauty is second to none for thou art more beautiful than the universe,
I'll treasure thee until the ocean dries up, for with thee I'll grow old;
My Arabian goddess, for thy smiles I'll cause time to make a reverse,
Until my dying breathe, I'll treasure thy person, till the ocean folds.

Thou art so precious a treasure, whose beauty glows with honour and pride,
An epitome of beauty, whose beauty is without comparison a rare Berry,
Thy rhythmic voice a sonorous lyric makes me glued to thy side
For thou art sweeter than honey and more succulent than berry.

My Arabian goddess, until the end of time, I'll forever love you best,
I'll love thee, till the river jumps over the mountains, with thee I'll boast my Pride;
Ne'er will I stop loving thee, for I'll be sure to love thee to thy taste,
Of a truth, thy beauty glitters more than gold, with thee I'll make my Bride.

©Vabec

We had an energetic exchange
and his energy has intertwined with my own
and his children have sunken into my skin
and his lips are imprinted on my own.
I feel as if I have to discard myself in order to discard him
from me.
We made art with our bodies
and I can't tell you how artistic it was that he curves gently to the left
and his hands felt as if they were made only to grab my throat.
I loved every inch of his body
and I have it memorized so well
I could sketch it out.
He was art to me.
In every kiss was a song;
in every goodbye, a melancholy tear.
At night, I can remember the way his chaliced hands traced my figure
and how comforted I felt when his muscular arms hugged my limbs.
I can still taste him
and it's a taste that even Burnett's can rid me of.
He was mine;
every piece and square centimeter had my name on it,
but just as quickly as we fell in love,
my name was wiped clean by
someone
else.

Without you,
I am but a flower
without light nor water -
Slowly
Withering away
And die.

{E.I}

My lungs keep me breathing, but am I really alive?
24 years later, and I'm just living to survive.
Because cowards end their life,
With a gun, pills or a knife.
And none of those are the answer I'm trying to derive.

My life has been flipped, in every possible sense.
I fear I'm becoming always mentioned in the past tense.
I work at night and sleep all day,
No one to hear what I've got to say,
I'm staying afloat, but at what expense?

These are my feeble cries to a unconcerned crowd.
I continue to chant "when will I make you proud?"
Because the people don't care
All they will do is stare.
As I cause a scene with a voice that echoes loud.

The wind blows,
The leaves twirl
Drifting through the air.

Nature becomes violent,
Sends a storm
And the leaves are whipped into frenzy

Yet even this is a balance,
For too much evil,
Or kind-spiritedness,

Is not good for anything

The wind blows and the willow bends
Stay strong,
For it will pass soon

some believe in the deity
others in the sanctity of self
I think poetry is a religion
a soul unto itself
not a god
but close
and I seek her his its
calming words
wisdom
to get on my knees
and worship
every night
alone
here
in my sanctuary
like any
true believer