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 Jun 2014 Hida Abbad
nivek
your words poet
sing their song
In my innermost
each word completes
your welding craft
into memorable poems
288

I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you—Nobody—Too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise—you know!

How dreary—to be—Somebody!
How public—like a Frog—
To tell one’s name—the livelong June—
To an admiring Bog!
1680

Sometimes with the Heart
Seldom with the Soul
Scarcer once with the Might
Few—love at all.
Her body was her success
but, her intellect was just a guest
that came along to the photo shoot.
Undressed, she was perfect,
alone she was fragile,
a child looking for love.

Her effects were legendary.
Many have tried to capture her
essence, they've failed
Marilyn Monroe
a fake name for a real
person.

Norma Jean Baker
Brunette to Blonde
As her two personas intersect
it's hard not to feel regret
for the child with a smile
so wide, it reflected the sun.

We , the adoring fans made her public property
forgetting her individuality, sensitivity and
vulnerability.
We used and abused the sunshine
she brought, she lived a lie
We that supposedly were in love with her
killed her beauty, without and within.

Nembutal, overdose, suicide,cover up
believe what you want.
What's true is she had a
luminous quality, wistfulness, radiance, and yearning
that set her apart.

And, in her own words
"Give a girl the right shoes,
and she can conquer the world"
That she did, and still does.
© JLB
“A l'intérieur de ce corps vivait l'âme d'une intellectuelle et poète dont personne n'avait le soupçon.

Within this body lived the soul of an intellectual and poet, which nobody had suspected.”
― Antonio Tabucchi
 May 2014 Hida Abbad
Blake
Warlords
 May 2014 Hida Abbad
Blake
When the heroes die-
And good men go to war;
Who will swat the flies?
And who will clean their sores?

In the dawn of destruction,
We seek peace in death machines.

In the wake of extinction,
We seek peace in annihilation.

I fear for my children,
And their children as well-
For this generation of men,
It's safe to say they failed.

When the heroes die-
And good men go to war;
Who will swat the flies?
And who will clean their sores?

— The End —