I once wrote to mystify a tale of lifetimes crafted in each night and day. So I pray every night as I live a near-death experience before I sleep, and I wonder is it me or my PTSD?

Souls are precious for the soul-less and mine will never be for sale.

There are a million worlds out there and they are all lived here.
Whatever might be the vows you've taken, by the morning they'll all lose their meaning because the night is harsh, and we suffer to sleep, and in our agony, the evil entities creep onto us with their mischievous deals.

There are a million worlds out there and they are all lived here.
My vision's been recalibrated to see every version of what is real, in threads of colors descending, intertwining with my stomach and neck, like a magical key to a world that emanates consciousness in orange and red.

From the brink of death to love and respect, it is all good when I remember, but what can I do when I forget?  

I sleep hoping that the morning will bring back my optimism


Words Of Harfouchism

I am pleased, might finally speak about my witch friend
share with you some of her wits and trends

Masters today desecrate the truth,
meditation and visualization are nothing but outdated tools

Culturally, relatively free i write fearless,
Contemplation overcomes meditation,
Spirituality conqueres religion ,
I formless, will not abide to your anticipations
I renounce my knowledge and education
Transparency , revolution,
Love works,
It has been scientifically proven

We are what we think
Thoughts procure reality
it has been confirmed quantum physically

So what's your excuse?
take control and imagine the best version of YOU

Imagination is the key to reaching everything and beyond


Words Of Harfouchism

Objectively i step out,
dissecting, inspecting, introspecting,
analysing what is to become of me.

You interpret my words and call it psychology

My main problem is communication,
Inherited from my mother ,
Though i earned a masters in the latter,

My perverseness came from my father
But who could ever blame the parents ?

Since reality is merely a fragment
associated to humans, and i accept that.

Subjectively i dig in , search , meditate and contemplate
i conclude the path is still long ahead however my herritage assures me that i am already there

If Jazz could be committed to ink and paper
assorted with therapy
the results would be similar to my humble poetry


Words Of Harfouchism

Awake i found the languages have changed in my sleep
The sequence of words is lost and so is my power to will

People talk strange but sill imitate their creator
Behaviour is predictable when you're attached to a prayer

Obey my ageless tongue

I dare question my presence in this dimension
With one intention
An ancient practice and an encounter
The timelessness of magic shall bring back my willpower

The symbols are drawn
The words are assembled
At the crack of dawn
I shall have my answers




Words Of Harfouchism

Alleged linear
Ignoring its devious nature,
Time is homogenous
Conflicting with my behaviour

Allowing ritualized secrets and processes
Personalized by fragments that possesses
The civilized enablers
To protect art in form of divination

Revealing obsequious attempts
To pretend the culture's end
Ignoring our needs,
Promoting that healing isn't real
Inculcating us through a pharmaceutical delight
A treat to numb your mind
And make you believe that magic isn't real.


Words Of Harfouchism.

Sophisticated

Information penetrates in light

Medicated

I no longer believe in your fight

Elevated

Intelligence evolves

Circulated

By conscious thoughts

And a will,
Hard as steal
To divert the fear

Through a creative lens
Expressed in a bleeding pen

Mixed with a salty tear
For the truth to be revealed


Words Of Harfouchism

The night comes but i am not ready to sleep

In my dream my lover comes in yellow and green

She removes the crown of leaves off her head
Pulls out a leaf and rubbes it against my chest

Then crumbles it into a pipe and place it on my lips
Commanding me to take a big long hit


As i inhale i reach death,

The end has been summoning me
Whispering my name in between breath
Yet life still claims me

And leaves me wanting more
I would smoke the whole crown if i had the choice


Words Of Harfouchism

My words won't sooth you

I've been guided and misguided ,i am out of depth

But let me introduce you to a perceptive a little more complex

On how you view life,

Whatever you may desire, exclude it from lies
Because the truth brings peace of mind

Invest in fellowship.
Sing, dance , imagine, but don't worship,
Unless in bed.

Communicate to the other what you like in ***.

Words Of Harfouchism.

if I were the Scar to your Mufasa,
then I'd re-write that whole disaster
and be th' one to go to th' hereafter,
for you, I gladly opt to be the martyr

she ruffles thru' the written rows,
line by line, she sifts thru' prose
intent on catching with her knows (nose),
the timeless scents of dainty rose

her eyes affixed to gems in ink,
the precious words adeptly linked
by (her) lover's mind that ever thinks
of her thru' night without sleep's wink

in penned down verse she does find peace
amidst the words of (her) lover's piece
she is the muse that brings him bliss,
and with these words he sends his kiss