I had become what most yearn for.
Anyone can want what they truly do not understand .

You never know you like something until you finally get a taste for what it truly is .

My plate is full these days .
Every line has a direction and it becomes more mechanical by the second.

People laugh at me less .
Some envy .

Fools often hate what they themselves could never do.

They think what I forged in fire somehow was handed from the Heavens.

The tattered edges now refined .
It took a toxic environment and a lust for its release.

I didn't cheat my self indulgence .
But I **** sure scammed myself about happiness.

I worked for this plain and simple.


I stayed around till I had proven a fluke is one thing I wasn't.

If your waiting for a encore .
You have to let me finish first .

Happy Retirement, Bill
The countdown now is done
After 35 years working for Milner
Your new life has begun...

That’s cause for celebration
Despite what you have said
We’ll sing “He’s a jolly good fellow!”
Raise a glass-break some bread!

I know how hard you’ve worked while
Those copy machines kept breaking
Those customers kept on *******’
Despite the best effort you’re making

So punctual!  Dependable!
So clever at fixing things, too
You’ve worked hard all your adult life
“Hardly working” is new for you

Thousands of machines you fixed
Often while crawling on the floor
Looking for that wayward *****
On your 6th call-and then 2 more!

Now’s your time to put those feet up
With our cat upon your lap
Dreaming of surfing and traveling…
You’ll have time to take a nap

Instead you took your surf board down
Since you’re feeling quite inspired
To be a dedicated beach ***
Surfing ev’ry day you’re retired

Across the leaden sky
A gull shooting a cry
Hurried to his task
Before the sky puts on his mask.

Nobody knew what his task was
Except that his time drew to a pause
And that he had to hurry because
From the open he had to retreat.

The bird knew this but he was wayward
Swimming in the airy wave, beak forward -
Skating, flying, but always eastward -
Heedless of the dark, like a poet.

(c) LazharBouazzi

I guess
I'll go back to poetry
now that
the real thing is ending

It's hard to lose touch
when you finally found it
hard to imagine
being content
staring at computer eyes
and typing can never
replace her flesh and blood hand

yet the reality is we must part after meeting
so brief the moment
so unsweet the parting
I may write a poem full of tears
I may tear this **** keyboard apart

trying to make it all real once more
her feel her heart her love for me.

We three met
Beneath the Eye In the Sky,
Above the green-blue lake.

You two were sent for a lesson;
I met you to escape.

Stories from long ago
And old films that you two know
Are shining new to me.

One of you loves me
And to the other
I made love.

But in teaching me your lessons,
(Balzac is our favourite!)
You have taught me not to love.

Let us lie here under the sky
Unwatched by others’ eyes,
Away from what you know.

One day you will accept this place,
But then, I will need to go.

Years from now, if you return,
You will still not find me.

Look for my name
On a candle-lit, paper boat,
In the twilight of
Zhongyuanjie
On the blue-green lake.

It has now turned into
a normal English summer
after the scorching
temperatures of late
Much more bearable!