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 Oct 2015 bouhaouel zeineb
r
Her kisses were moonshine
and bullets, three shots
to the heart, like a rose
on the canvas of morning,
like art, an eyelash on a poem
that always makes me pause,
three xs at the bottom of a page.
***
This war is ripping me to shreds
My mind, splattered with so much red
My heart, a rag doll to a dog, stricken with such great regret
My eyes don't want to see it yet
I have nothing, I know nothing anymore.
To  take  a  leap
Into the unknown
            Is terrifying        
       For comets do flow
         On the Tao on their own!
Alter the sweet sparks
Sizzle and crack
In bliss and surprise
      ~Where do you go Poet~
                 with divine affection
only mortal poems know how to
not
Hold on the edge of You~
  Transcendence that soothes me~
         Feathers from your flight~
             Consciously chased by
                  The
                  Impermanence of    
                       Your
                 Vivacious streams
        Transforming into the Raven
  Brooks
   Whisperings of your favorite
       Fountainescue poetry books
         Dancing~embraced!
  Radiance aglow~quadrophonics
Unutterably enchanting
     Glorious Swans of Sound Nebulae
         Swimming Endlessly~on Thou~
                 Laser beam gaze to my heart's
            Golden dream Fabulae.
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic love/ox
 Oct 2015 bouhaouel zeineb
ryn
Allow me to step into your space.
Let us be close,
standing face to face.
So close...
Where our hands could meet,
and our hearts could greet...
The one chance
to finally indulge this long awaited dance.

Cradling one another...
In open arms.
Surendering...
Submitting...
To careless caresses,
bashful gazes and charms.

Our feet would mirror,
the gaits
of each other.
Our eyes ensnared
with senses all bared...
To the rise and fall
of the nectarous melody.
Playing for what seemed like eternity
in silence.

That eternity is now here.
Seizing this dance,
we gambol and frolic
without reservations and fear...
For the hours have frozen
and the seconds have ceased to tick.

This is our song.
Seemingly refined,
cultured and well versed.
This is our dance.
Enchanting,
perfect,
albeit unrehearsed.
 Oct 2015 bouhaouel zeineb
ryn
Swimming alone in my ocean...
In search of courage
drenched and drowned
in cowardice.

I have ample foothold,
for now...
Taunting the winds
that whistled treacherously
on this precipice.

Ears to the air
I hear the faint calling
of a lone zephyr
in the traveling winds
of tomorrow.

A smile emerges.
Forgetting the uncertainties,
the shame
and the unforgiving sorrow...

Bewitched and determined
to catch this breeze
that briefly promised salvation.

Brushed away the tears,
emotional inadequacies
and lifelong trepidation.

My lips parted...
Inhaling deep
what once,
for a long time felt acrid.

Eyes closed.
I greeted the whispers
that spoke of the end.

I've wished to be amongst
the choral voices
that sang
not of strangers
but friends.

The time is now.
I've conveniently forgotten
what and who I am...
Knowing only where I want to be.

I've found courage.
I took one step
into the future.
And finally...
I'm free.
Inspired by Third Eye Blind's "Jumper".
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