Existence is cautious under the moonlight
how I embrace its essence
as its energy is to enhance spells and projects
and re-define divination in the earth’s objects
I feel safe in its presence.
Though I walk in deep shades of darkness
as my shadow departs me
thick skin is embodied
all forms of fear get cold
as I breathe them out.

lit the dark of one lone
shone from some prosaic shine
turned on the sun
hung every star
brought near far
clothed the bare naked
thawed their cold
forgave the wrongs
praised the heroes
solved the mysteries
answered the question
asked the answers
colored the dawn
fought all battles
died with kin
lived in sin
fear never ever
the darkest nights
died on pyres
cloistered in slavery
alone in forests
saw in eyes
died in ecstasy
brought forth beauty
painted ugly
claimed a right
to be named
poetry.

~~
*When I saw grandma was spinning yarn at moon
Mother's lullaby was just a fairytale
The measure would not have to weigh the legs
Flew colorful kites in the sky
Had a chat with friends at idle hours
The dreams came but never went with wind
We, all friends were wandering in a fairyland
The words of the poem as the rain came
She loved to hear the poems
When romance flowed with blood
Air, flowers said Spring
When in a lazy Summer afternoon  
She stood at my door
Sitting beside me
Sang a song of future
Lost ourselves
When time moved in the forth dimension  
You and me
Sometimes Sunshine,
Sometimes Rain
Horizon spoke with Rainbows
Then dreams played with my blue Sky
And I was bright as the Evening Star
 ~~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen

Reason burns the prime
leaves in their cinders no solace
for one likely answer are a hundred questions
where crumbling bones can’t have the will
to climb anymore the rungs endless.

Finds beneath feet a resting ground
that in glimmer of hope abound
a tunnel light an emerging design
to craft from chaos a face divine.

Utters a prayer that’s never too late
succumbs blissfully to the savior the faith.

Should I still stretch

For new proverbs

And hope they never age

Thought old truths fade

Each epoch's dawn

And worms digest each page

Whose visions

Were established here

Where cold stones brush the sky

While mirrored in their icy grace

The homeless men walk by

Aesthetically

The Portman breed

Revised the urban face

How could such soaring intellect

Conceive this heartless place

Wednesday 17 December 2014

This one was beautiful.  I sculpted it myself.  Did you know that?
It took years and, if I’m completely honest, I was overly fond of it.
I’d made many, of course.  I had to.  We all had to.
Cupped, round, and smooth, heavy in my hand like a clay pigeon.
So beautiful...

Somehow it began in light,
Naïveté and youth.
I used to say it just felt right,
And free from all abuse.

At  first it formed a perfect ring,
Of lies I thought were true.
I bring it, now, to end the thing.
I bring it, now, to you.  

Because every thing must have its place,
Every thing in its own time.  
This beautiful thing has failed it's need,
Inspiring only pain and rhyme.

-but may it live in memory, still,
May the growth outweigh the pain.
When pain brings growth beyond your will,
Remember fondly, this thing, again.

So why did I smile when you asked me to hold it?
Why did I find it fitting that you made me load it into the trap?
Why were the lines formed by your braced shoulder,
your leveled forearm, your
outstrectched, cradled hand,
so beautiful...
when you inclined your head,
Closed one eye, and,
Steady, raised your sights?

Why did I love you so much for pulling the trigger?