~
Whatever you say,
You do not delete the date stain on your skin
Over time it may likely to paly
Just think as the sun on the sky
But on the night when do not
Surely, somewhere else, off course in a different way
Or she has hidden behind the clouds

In the dark night,
Again she has arrested as the moon
Today, with the silky light of her,
Laughing this lake,
Bathing the distant hills,
Singing my lost heart,
Reminding the lost poetry

Her form among the many forms
How many words within the words,
The words of lost days
Her light, shines my love

The write which was only for her,
As the unfinished metaphors of poetry
Which has yet to emit moonlit
From the moonlight in a full moon night   

As if a prisoner who breaks down the wall of a dark circle
As if she has come to very near to my old door,
Light has fallen on her faded face again,
As well as the known mind of ours
Which is quite impossible to remove
Even yet that has proven the existence of eternal love
~
@Musfiq us shaleheen

a fine drizzle, dribbles down the windows
a day you gladly watch, in silence
snug, as when you were a child

Cactus,I could guess the secret
you'd rather love to see buried deep,
isn't  the thorny rose ,you dream
in your lonely sad nights?
Torrential rains lash long hours, you wait,
sun breaks his barrage of light on you,
it doesn't matter, foggy evenings tip toes to
ogle the dark beauty night wears,
oh! her starry necklace, that won't
brook any kind of description,
rose you have sent your fragrance
looking for the scent of your love, cactus.

Apart from thorns there is nothing
that bring you both together.
With the yearning each for the other
slowly waning, you  remain apart.
as a binding factor, are just thorns enough?

And still I dream of stepping back into yesterday
Where time flowed so freely golden with serenity
We would sit in pine scented grove and sip lemonade
Our talk tranquil as sun dappled creek murmuring in quiet wood
Never arguing or complaining but flooded with blissful reverie
A time bygone and peaceful, learning to know each other again
Listening to the background symphony of cicadas and katydids
Poignantly nostalgic with yearnings of bygone days
Watching velvety dusk deepen into shades of whispering night
Relishing each breeze laden with moss and murmuring pine
Anticipating the dawn awakened by drowsy robins and wood thrush
Skies east to west stained with strawberry hues and dreams renewed
And still I shall dream on

**~Hilda~

Mary on the shore, waving brightly
Life was good
I wrote your name in huge letters on the sand
You were the one
No time to admire said work
The sea so calm
Turned in anger and washed you all away
It was a sign
Just wasn’t to be
Mary on the shore, waving brightly
I turned and walked away.

Tomorrow night, you’ll sleep walk into your lover’s dreams.
You’ll open the gate to hell, where you’ll find the poor ******
souls of a lost generation. Their lust, recklessness & drunkenness
will come as no shock to you. You’ll find your people trashed;
***** bottles smashed & abandoned, intoxicated girls balanced
on their Jeffrey Campbell Litas floating through social groups.
Boys, barely men, will be seen beaten down to the bare bones
of their existence, cigarette blunts piercing their open chests;
stinging & burning, red & yellow ash sparking flames on
the black lingerie of their lover’s.  

Tomorrow night, you’ll wish you were not sleep walking into
your lover’s dreams. In the days you spend there, you will not
find the lover you know. You’ll find a lover who is invaded
by body snatches; emphatically dominating every white cell.
You’ll find a lover, cast away with the ghosts of his past.
You’ll bear witness to pendulums of excessive desires
swinging to & fro – where time stands still, & not even
the ticking of a clock can be found, to count the days til
the grave he will fly.

© Sia Jane

trudging through deep history
weighed down with expectation to fail

its a close call of survival
to simply get up and leave.

Foot
        long
                 toenails
one hundred year old whales


Can't
    find the vein
       a junkies old refrain

Lost
in the music
   of the street

The hiss
    of rubber on the road
       a sustained
           lullaby

The reeds the reeds
  blow those reeds

Plant seeds plant seeds
   plant those seeds

   Water them well
           from

An ancient well
  with spiked punch

And German sausages
         so big that to get them up
                 you need a forklift

You heard by now
        there's  no depending on me
           when it comes down to the crunch

but.... ****... end of the joke so

Keep on keeping on
   stretching out those legs

If not to
    just walk
      around the block

Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now—
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

There's a boy near a highway
He claims to be queer
He's selling his soul for the food he needs dear
There's a frame with no windows
Filled with his peers
They light up their glass pipes to feed their own fears
There's a mother with babies
Whose diapers are smeared
They catch hell for crying
She slaps off their tears
There's an old man who's downtown
He brown-bags his beer
There's a rich girl
She's wasted
Never dreamed she'd be here
There's a fat *****
She's worthless
Just selling disease
Tear down these old crack-towns
Don't need more of these