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 Feb 2019 Hira malik
Maya Angelou
A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.

But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.
 Jan 2019 Hira malik
Robin Lemmen
There is art
In your heart
Painting pictures
When I lay
My head down on your chest

There are songs in your eyes
Singing lullabies
When you hover
Pin me down
With your stare

There is a poem
On the tip
Of your tongue
I taste it
When I kiss you

You are tortured
My jaded lover
I hear it
When you won't talk
Like a once broken promise, she came to me
Out of my past, across forever seas
Recasting truth into the furrows of dreams
Sewing intimate seeds that hushed the screams

And unsolved riddles of throttling fear
If one day more, hope would not get here
Over rolling swells, far from land
Spices and driftwood and contraband

Like caramel drippings from a Dali sun
Her eyes cast the color on taught sails of muslin
She sweetly falls soft through scents and caresses
Like a settling snowflake on winters dried branches

She is more than a feeling, brighter than sight
She is the stir in the morning to my withering night
And I recall her breath, a fathomless deep
landing home in the heart, from a precipitous leap.

But the bitter serenity when out of my sight
Is her touch to my soul like raw senses at night
I spiral away, she¹ll not get here in time
To keep me from falling deeper in mind.

In this strange numb world, it¹s just her and me
Afloat on the tears, of wounded poetry.
Softly I’ll land
wherever you land,
slide over the lee of your wake
I’ll drift on your breath
and fly on stirred winds
to wherever your wings will take
I’ll break my fast
with steel cut oats
and sip the steam of splendid tea
and dip my bread
in the yolk of love
and you’ll adore the dawn
with me.
She mounted the breeze
And shook the trees
Bringing our love to its knees.
“I’m not jaded,
Please look at me,
Look deeply and say goodbye,”
She rustles the rust from the waving limbs,
“…Here’s your beloved azurite sky.”
It’s raining saffron and crimson leaves
As Autumn throws on her coat
She’s gone again,
And all I have
Are the tears she left on this note.
I wrote to your sacrilege
Toasted your haram
You were an idol among the dregs
I was a totem in your palm
Love lifts within the scent
leaving the body to quiver
all once between us, rent,
only combustible twigs to give her
We ask of death to teach us life
Burn our nests
For torchlight
to shine the way home
and weep of love for which I'll die,
For writing such a poem.
Poets Note:
Go down dark and deep beloveds
it's good to go to those dark places within,
it's there that we burn
and into that fire,
we dip our torches
to light our way out again.
go blind in your own light
and descend,
for many a stirred soul
will sway and rustle
in the same divine wind;
and all this
to fill the spirit's silent wing
by which your voice ascends.
Heart becomes a blood dense sun
Consuming all of anyone
come to take a seat beside
or to sacrifice their burdens.

Goes the ghosts into the pyre
soften, silent from the ire
consuming even their own ashes
magnesium memories in the fire.

Till love fumes spheres of aural stars
hums distant in the cradling dark
cuddled, lost, yet guiding lights
Who remembers where you are...
       Even where has forgotten
       who you are.
Her whispers writhe upward, warming my lips
Chased gently by thoughts, and fingertips

Which pulse over keys, sewing words onto fields
Of love thirsty parchment, tenderly peeled

From shavings off banyan trees, twisted in time
Woven from tangles of roots and vines

That glimmer and glide on the twirls of her hair
That coil around dreams as they swirl in the air

And reciprocate whispers that blend into sighs
Reflecting like moonlight in opening eyes.

Honey silk visage and java, like brindle,
Eyes like flint against frizzen, will kindle

Fire in the heart, calling men once missing
To a resplendent nexus, of lost souls kissing.

Arcadian journeys of body and mind
Sing from fathomless depths of space and time.

Geography traversed by her steps, sublime
Bearing piedra de ijada from a far eastern mine.

Electricity leaps in passionate arcs,
from skin to skin in dendritic sparks,

That strobe over rhythm beneath the sheets,
as lovers listen and friction speaks

in syncopation with shuddering breaths,
from sodden mouths that sweetly press,

And I close my eyes in synchronicity,
but even closed, it’s her I see.

Tasting the salt of a single tear
A harbinger, for the moments near.

High on the hum of hopes embrace
as rapture and destiny hasten the pace,

I open my eyes to watch her go,
but once inside it starts to grow

into a poem unleashed in my heart,
By a byzantine kiss, after lost lips part.
I really wish I hadn't told you.
I wish in ignorance you'd still call me 'm'lady'
So I could pretend, for a second, I was your lady.
Running away with you in my head, is better than not at all.
Truth is, I am your five minute cigarette break. I’m your scotch on the rocks at 10am, and the bottle of wine after a long day at work. I’m everything I don’t want to be, yet everything you want. You can put me out after lighting me up, throw me out once I lose my flavor and empty me out like a bottle of wine. You don’t do it because you can, you can because I let you.
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