you're lost in your own world
is that where you'd rather be?
step out for a moment
come walk with me

a hostage of your own thoughts
why don't you let them be?
think what I think for a moment
let go, breathe free

you won't look me in the eyes
see what I want you to see
stop for a moment and look
there's just you and me

I don't know where you're heading
you say it's destiny
slow down a bit for love
come walk with me

No brain,
  Brainstorm.
Storm door,
  Door opens,
Opens mind,
  Mindset.

Set tone
  Set mood,
Set themes
  Setting,
Set words
  Set stanzas.
Set backs?
  Set match.

Match Mix
  Patch fix
Large risks
  Lines brisk
Heart ticks
  Beats quick.
Darwinist
  Poetry is.

Craters cradle the eastern horizon.
Asteroids are smashed, passing backwards and
comets rocket passed like a rubber band
whizzing across my face. Our sun brightens
the new gruesome sky that our world lies in.
The smoldering rocks much like contraband,
are invasive, not controlled where they land.
We now know that we were not enlightened.

In darkness, our souls wither away one
by one at the sight of the destruction.
Suddenly, a strange theme occurred among
us. Trust without rules. Now, we can all run
a world not petty, void of corruption.
As one, we will become heroes unsung.

The Sky is the Limit*

When you “feel” a beat,
not one that is felt with your hands,
but a delicate crescendo that resonates in the streets.
It’s a whole sound, like DNA strands
vivid and teeming of livelihood or even timing;
yes, a beat to forget all of your problems and stress.
One that seemingly strips strife, increasing syntax and rhyming;
a beat that somehow serenades smoother than the rest.

That one, “The Sky is the Limit,” by Biggie or even Wayne
is the one I felt today, unhinging the helix
while simultaneously simmering the pain;
any hindrances had that could not be fixed.
But we all feel ‘em differently in a multitude of mixtures,
oh, it’s a human breed indeed
Especially because it is far from the perfect fixture.
But, sometimes, it is all that I need.

/
Many days
I do not read any newspaper
Even do not see television
At all
Many days have gone
After You
I do not read any poetry

How to feel that since this morning!
Repeatedly hear identifying tunes on the air

Your arrival in the sky,
The air reverberates
Looks like another day
In the Paradise,
In another song,
Which brings the soul
The Aroma

Everyone is coming out
From all sides
Young Old
Babies Boys
Women Men
Everyone
Everyone is clapping
Singing the song of the same tune
This song is not the song of Rain
Not even a lamentation

The Southern breeze whispering your words
Slowly Said,
The Little Tailor Bird
No, No,
Not such a summer afternoon
Not even a hurricane warning

Each of the human eye
Follow the Eastern Sky  
Tireless Eye
Watching the sun,
The Red Sun,
You went to bring dreams for us
From the Sun

Hundreds of thousands of people
In his next question
Hand with Flower
Shoulder to Shoulder
Today will be the day of strangers,
The poet will come
We are standing in the flowers
Fist full of dreams to take

Float in the sky with white clouds
My dreams are calling again
Today is not such an Autumn
But Still feel like an Autumn
Indeed,  
The poet will come,
A poem in the New

Where each word will be spoken dream
Love to be evacuated
Poems that will repay
The debt to my Ancestor
Take revenge on thee
For their injustice,
Torture
Poems that would bring the stars
For our next generation
A poem that would bring the red rose for my darling,
Would bring such a smile to my mother's face
As Moon that smile
And that is simply killed false dreams
Will we ever Released
Sing Freedom Songs

The Poet,
My beloved Poet
You will come,
Will surely come
And will recite your immortal poem
/

@ Musfiq us shaleheen