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 May 2016 Bina Awan
december
I used to hate the color orange,
But when we pop mandarins into our mouths between Creamsicle-sweet kisses I feel as if I’m being transported to a different dimension where we’re the only two in existence.
You’re the sunlight that hits the earth at 6pm, making everything seem as if it’s warm and glowing.
Every time I see a candle flame flicker I can’t help but think of you who exudes the same ambiance of alleviation that the walls of my childhood home once did.
If sunrise and sunset were to be combined, they still wouldn't compare to the magnetizing brilliance of your aura.
You emulate autumnal earth tones and crackling wood in brick fireplaces, echoing your heartbeat and bringing about a sense of raw intimacy shared between two.
I trace my fingertips down your spine, reflecting upon the likeness between you and the sun,
And I wonder why no one ever named a color after you.
For Ricky
 May 2016 Bina Awan
Kara Jean
Rush of success
brutal trusting
Sensibility, briefly
Using it in a perplex and deceiving claim
Chaos, is her calmness
Designed, to harness energy
Absorbing, more than her worth
Power is implemented
A mighty resistance
Others would **** for royalty
She walks naked,
without an ounce of shame
 May 2016 Bina Awan
Commuter Poet
The idea
That every single person
Is worthy
Of respect
Is so simple

And yet
Why do we find
A million and more reasons
To fight this truth?
8th May 2016
I’ve been questioned on
my late night walks,
why do I do it?
the repetitive cracks
sing hedonist soliloquies
at every avoidance,
the streetlights eat away
at forfeiting darkness,
vomiting garbage cans
spew synthetic carrion
and winking storefronts
****** nightfallers,
trash kissing curbs
pushing away affection
cry out for help,
cigarette butts cloud
sandy sidewalks
and hug dragging soles,
passing cars and
mindless youth
spewing timeless
nothings out car windows,
cop cars and crisis topped
middle-agers stumbling their way
to fast food and
regretful forenoons,
I’ve been questioned
on where I’m walking to,
but never what I’m walking from,
no matter where I go,
I find myself
burning my throat
with coffee at 2am
 May 2016 Bina Awan
Mohd Arshad
Family
Is the coolest shade
And sitting under it is a great virtue
 May 2016 Bina Awan
The Dedpoet
Die into me,

Every kiss is a prayer
As I whisper a prophesy
         To your body.

          The night will keep us
As we constellate our passion.

I die into you,

      I await you on the other side,
There open my soul
      And read the inscription:

   He died a thousand times,
Reborn inside her,
    The Sacrificial Lover.
Dancing in the wind, quite literally.
In the beginning, you danced in the rain,
Your fire doused by the weight of the world.
You spluttered and your glow was crushed.
The expectations of society held you down.
Your movements were feeble and your light was dying.

It began with a touch of innocence, that harmless naiveté that age withers away.
Such a fragile essence of youth is pounded by the harsh reality that is life. Broken.
This acidic reality consumes all; Innocence, hope and simple idealism.
Maturity is a merciless awakening to a ruthless existence.


She drowned you in standards of beauty and perfection.
Did you not realise we are all beautiful?


The moment stops, stands in turmoil
and caustic, sarcastic scepticism.
It builds, climbs and crashes around you.
You fall, die and are swept away.
Only a spark remains.


‘A will to shatter stars.’
Your mind snaps, is reformed and strengthened.
Apparently, “what doesn’t **** you makes you stronger.’


The darkness of your father’s death;
and the morbid beauty contained within that blood-stained image is glorious.
It drives you to new heights and drags you to more depraved depths.


Passion unblocked, and lo, it lies on lofty heights.
Luminous, boundless, binding.
Your smouldering coal bursts into flame anew.
A curious desire for life is born;
Its candle flickers alongside a raging inferno.


A rebirth ensues.
Complete eclipse of restriction cycles from new moon to full.
The lunar light darkens shade by shade, shadows lengthen and the sky descends.


Lightning arcs though strong clouds.
Pulsing energy razes the heavens in its purest form.
This is the ultimate representation of your freed mind.
This chaotic rolling mass of fury, built up over years of restrained frustration.

Inexorably intertwined, our threads on fates tapestry weave over and over.
A ghost of echoing sentiment remains, one that must be guided, lest it is forever lost.



Gently nurturing a recovering mind is a tedious process.
Great perseverance and patience are required to preserve both its sanity and your own.
‘Tis a far reaching and noble goal, yet one of the most arduous of all to pursue.


This explosion of your psyche and subsequent downfall leaves a dangerous dilemma.
A block, if you will. A redeeming light remains from your rapid release of consciousness.
The key, is in finding that light.
Unlocking this matrix of memory produces a spectacular result.
This web of twisting thoughts spins in the air.
Dancing in the wind, quite literally.
 May 2016 Bina Awan
EJ Aghassi
That lamentation, as it was,
Heard for centuries above
Has told of the glory and the loss
Among the other needless costs

In it now I find a friend and foe
Here in the belly, the undertow,
The phantom crashes, deep bellows,
Fiery lights made palpable

A static tension in the air
Breeding pain, doubt and despair
Multiplies, exemplifies,
Heavy hearts and saddened eyes

But it's necessary for
Harboring coming downpour
Floods crashing through ***** streets
Wipe clean the mark of entitled feet

Rejuvenation in desolation

And when wandering your gardens
I stopped to appreciate every flower
You sang me along, flowers seemingly
Growing where you walked

Magnificence made my breathing heavy
I longed so very much to sing with you
But I could not breathe,
I could not make a sound

The rain is falling now
With arms full of tulips and the idea of you
I'm carried outside myself
By the scent still left in your wake

Intimacy in isolation

There is something to be gained
Sitting lonely in the rain

Wrapped within nature's grasp
Unifying present and past

I've now only in this weather
Visions of these gardens brought to wither

The vibrant mind of springtime
Knocked unconscious in the winter

Anywhere the sun leads you
The clouds are sure soon to follow

But you'll be far from daunted

There will be more gardening tomorrow
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