Looking in the mirror
for imperfections
the wild hair,
a stray eye,
destiny's inheritance.
We lean in
to magnify the flaws.

When the real mirror
is coming to lunch,
ringing up our groceries,
delivering our mail,
returning home.

Alone....... we go out
in search of the mirror.
We  never stop looking.
we  never give up
our quest
for our love.

Particular light
waving a billion
miles from billion
year ball of gas to
tickle my iris.

And I am shy to show
the ancient traveller
the flipside of men,
blast crater uprooting
the sacred tree of life.

What happened to the
marbled head,
so noble and *****,
the burst of creativity
from cave to modernity?

What happened to sun,
einsteined to power,
the sunny side up
scrambled to gross
confusion and the limitless
cruelty to birthing eve?

Monsters' howling
echoe through the canyon
Taking prey with abandon
Leaving a wake of poison

The roaring fades
then they return
for one of us
we hide in the houses
we crouch in the bushes
eyes wide with terror
the roaring shakes our chests
and paralyzes our minds

Dead bodies float in the river
surrounded by psychedelic rainbow blood.

Phaeton climbed his magic gold ladder,

but when he reached the clouds they crushed his very soul.

His head exploded into orange stars

and he died.

As thousands of years passed

those cosmic creatures turned blue

and became what we see today.

The sun is made of Phaeton's eyes.

I' ve cut my way through life on camelback,
Halting only punctually by the track;

Yes, “punctually” indeed, to sleep and feed
On what was placed with care on my steed:

Sun-dried Thoughts & Language for me; the fruit,
For those I met on the opposite route.

© Lazhar Bouazzi, Carthage, TUN, July 1, 2016

You walk across the room
in your black *******,
a cigarette in your hand
and turn off the fan
in the open window,
like an undertaker waiting
by the door for the headlights
in the driveway debating
another swig from his flask,
like a ***** blowing smoke
in the dark flicking ash.

Somehow
the floor isn't
sticky anymore
yet I'm rooted,
stuck in this same
eternal
lackluster state of
having everything
I could ever want

they all wish to be here
while I only desire to hunger
to yearn - to thirst
for the next...