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The pigeons are sad

The pigeons saw that

The future comes with bad

The pigeons were telling that

The prophets born here

The prophet know that

It is the land of kind

, welfare and tied

The religions at that land

The assembly of religions

The peace between nations

Were established there

Here was the prophet David

Who the mounts the trees ,

The stones and  the birds,

Repeated his prays

He governed with justice

After him ,Solomon was gotten

He governed with justice

The welfare had increased

And the peace with there

The Romans occupied it

And the injustice appeared

The killing and the theft

Were actually increased

Here was born Jesus

Who invited to peace

At shortest and clear

That was not admired

By Romans or Jewish

Who were there

They planned to **** him

The land became unfair

The decreasing of welfare

The increasing of fear

Till the new nation appeared

The new religion increased

It called for justice

It led to peace

The Muslims achieved a victory

As they built a great glory

And they blockaded the land

The patriarch man said,"

We didn’t give the keys

Except to your leader

Who is justice’s famous"

They wore one of soldiers

The smartest cloth

They introduced him

As the prince of Insurers

as the caliph of Muslims

The greatest patriarchs said,"

That is not the man we did

Actually knew and have red

At our book that mentioned

Him actually as we saw awake."

The leader of soldiers ordered

To sent a letter to the caliph

At bright city wide distance

As he wanted to keep blood

Out of bleeding

He wanted not to ****

The innocent people

He didn’t want to bore

His name over death

His religion ordered them

To save the innocent people

To the caliph to came

The caliph and a servant  moved

The leader of the greatest land

At that time, at that moment

From the kind and light city

He read the yassin of holy

Quran that equals twenty

Minutes

For riding the donkey

And his servants walks only

Then the caliph got off only

And the servant rode the donkey

And they read the yassin for away

To count and know time

And mention the God only

Then the caliph and servant  also

Walked with their donkey

To rest it also

They keep reading yassin only

Till they reached near the holy

City that mentioned with  holy

In Quran with great respect

The turn is on the servant  

To get  that donkey rode

And the caliph would walk

He said," my prince! I must

Get down and you must

Ride that donkey"

He said," then I will be called

Injustice caliph led the insurers

To be injustice at every talkers

And it is your turn

If the air came to me smelt

With good smell than yours

If the water I drink

Have more delicious than yours

If I created from mud

Made of silver and gold

I will rode that animal

And you must go walker

Ride it my good insurer"

The soldiers saw him

They did great clutter

They wanted to salute him

The patriarch said with amazed,"

See what is that noise?

He looked and said

That is him , that is him!"

The patriarch went and looked

He counted patch in his

The cloth of the greatest prince

Of the greatest Nation motioned

At the ancient, at the present

He said," you are who is mentined!

You are the caliph

"Omar" was the caliph

He gave them the safe deal

That mentioned by his name

The patriarch gave him the keys

Of  Jerusalem to him

The time for afternoon pray came

The caliph prayed out the church

The patriarch said

Why you didn’t pray at that

Place at the inner of the church

Omar said if I prayed here

The Muslims after that

Say "Omar" prayed here

And they took it

To be a mosque indeed
there is walkaways a chance to achieve a peace. if we catch it
  Jan 2019 Ashley Chapman
Helena
mud-
stuck in the sole-ridges.
burning sun in amber petrichor
you suddenly feel infinite
skipping, humming
(****** puddle,suicide note)
and then my body underneath you
in plasma, in blister, in blood.
never let me drown
(you keep me burning on)
i´m mud
subtly stuck in
your rubber bridges.

started singing with the kids in park
i swore i could hear you screaming
(i was)

my love, my love
your footsteps break my silence
The
Concrete
Spatial poem
Has varied shapes
Ancient kind of verse
With Traditional Shapes.
Many  vague symbolic themes.
From tapers lozenges eggs or spheres
The concrete spatial poem has varied shapes.
~~            ~~          ~~            ~~
the above is with a Dectina Refrain
ample
The years have gone by
That can keep you alive
As much as memories
Dying in the times
Of a forgotten friend
An enemy now
I can keep for life

Love can bring
People together
As well make them respect
Their differences
"Everything you can imagine is real."- Pablo Picasso
  Jan 2019 Ashley Chapman
Cné

She makes love to him with words
spilling ink of passion on paper.
She creates the sensual mood
with each stroke of her pen
splattered on the sheets.
She caresses his flesh
in every love letter.
She kisses up and down his
length in sentences and prose.
She tastes all his masculine scent
without ever speaking a word.
She bites his lip and tilts her
hips in between the lines.
She paints a picture that
makes him hard  for his
release and it only
took her mind.

Ashley Chapman Jan 2019
Unburied
tomorrow
from Christian metanarratives
the mid-winter solstice.
  
       December 21;
           the shortest day
       over the longest night.

Two lovers
               are by the Channel
                    divided
                         to different beds
                                to tongue tastes
                                        to timed beats
                                                     to unfamiliar scents
                                          as Yuletide days
                     burn twelfths to gray ash;
              their bodies
         are sea
cleaved.

Come!
cross the water
and release
with lively touch
tresses thick
and winter's dew,
unctuous upon the crag,
the timely solar orb
to stir the frozen ground
on our rocky shelves
and chopped bowels.

On 25th,
Christ's star is risen:
the king's light dispersed
   in lengthening days
   in opened flesh
   in loosening chords untied
   in sinews gnawed through
   in desire's wanting hotly flayed!

60 seconds were daily added,
to when
in the 100 Year Gallery,  
love to know,
would in solstice
ultimately lay.

For now as then,
our emboldened play
in days delayed
has been
love's lacerating torment!
In this poem the Christmas period is informed by a BBC Radio 4 programme on the mid-winter solstice. Two events are conflated, a lover's yearning to be with his absent lover and the solstice drawing out the long nights and lengthening days.
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