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Silhouettes emerge from the night lunar tide
lives still wriggling in their net
ghostly figures from the sea silken wide
reaping riches from the waves in spate.

The night a luminous smile wears
the belly is fired up for a bite
dried leaves would burn under stars
brewing another day under moonlight.

Mariners when not venturing into deep sea
release passions on the shallow shelf
harvest hope though the catch is measly
breathing in the winds the aroma of kelp.

I feel having long belonged to this place
wading breakers in the phosphorus' glow
gathering in my net a strange happiness
craving home when the tide is low.
Bankiput on Sea, April 8, 9pm
 Jun 2017
Paul Jones
The space between ethereal measure,
  the nothingness connecting our divide.
This lack of substance is surreal, obscure
  are old memories of sharing your side.
Ours is the spirit, by which we are bound,
  a realm we share where timelessness persists.
Where shapeless planes carry a formless sound,
  the self becoming selfless, unresisting.
The place you’ve gone does not belong to me
  and in the space between us, seeds are sown.
The tree of life sways softly with the breeze
  while you continue, beyond what I know.
Like wings that carry over to another shore,
  you are my leaf on the wind. I see you soar.
Sonnet - 18 -
Original version: 27/09/15
This version: 23/03/17

I can share this now.

Dedicated to my Father.
I wrote this sonnet for him and read it at his funeral.

It explore's the experience of still feeling deeply connected to something that is no longer. Even after their death, people still affect you and change you. Pieces to a puzzle are still being put in their place as we mirror ourselves and our actions to what they might have done. We learn about ourselves and the world from these reflections.

On an even deeper level, this sonnet explore's the ethereal connections we have to our ancestors and the past. Observing that, what is lost to us will be reborn, through it's decay, feeding new growth. The cycle of life.

          "I am a leaf on the wind.
               Watch how I soar".
                                               - Wash, Firefly
 Jun 2017
Mohd Arshad
Get it for yourself.

Cut down the food in the twenty first century...
 Jun 2017
olivia
go and get lost in your art
unearth your deepest desires
show the world your pain
and unleash your fire.
find peace
learn the language of harmony
and let the balance be your natural state
and the heart of your adventure
because the root of your core
is an infinite creation
and you
are an artist
of your very own masterpiece
 Jun 2017
Mohd Arshad
Welcome the smile of a poor.
It will be worthwhile
for the well-beingof your family
 Jun 2017
Mohd Arshad
Hope is what you do,
And that has been

A tradition in each family
Since Adam down the earth.

He is not a beggar
To be shooed away

With bubbles
Of your unwanted wrath

At his step
At inconvenienct time,

And don't make him
A child when you say,
Run away, fast,
I wanna some peace.
He is the tick
On the walls,
Muddy or painted.
It is only he
Who reminds you
You are alive
In the crowd.
He is the frog
That keep craoking
In your heart.
 Jun 2017
archwolf-angel
we often take for granted
of many things we have at present
it won't be until we actually lose it all
do we appreciate all that had happened
so before it's too late
my most precious
I will let you know
how much I love you
every single day
 Jun 2017
Mohd Arshad
Only
Destiny
Outshines talent.......
 Jun 2017
Mohd Arshad
We buried him
Closer to
Mother's grave

Whenever I visit
The churchyard

The wind gathers
The yellow leaves
And take them
Over their abodes

And then they whisper
And say, o Man
You were waiting
For him he is here
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