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habiba Jun 2018
I know of a fire,
I know of a life
I know of a stirring, flooded through with light
I know of a weapon forged beyond question of might
I know of a will irrevocable with the stillness of MidNight

I know of the roots in the forests without trees
Webs that span the wide wetness of empty seas
I know of desires that are built on expected fears
And the cruel joys that then bring a person to tears
Those wretched happenstances that cannot be seen by seers

It is a simple life with a complicated weaving
A small cup with bitterness teeming
It is an odd duck of beautiful feathers shimmering
The laughter shows sharp teeth and you can just imagine that bite
A glaring light the truth of which we can only just perceive, but from which, alas, we may not hide.

But let me choose to set aside the eerie,
For my purpose was not to sound so dreary,
So said I that life is a Gemini feed,
It finds me unable to quite resist the switch

I spoke of fire undying, fire eternal was given to me.
I spoke of light undimmed, the sun was bequeathed to me.
I wanted to tread the halls of Olympus, the earth was created for me.
That I should never want for aught, take the very beat of mine heart for the flow of your blood.
For the thoughts that are my planets revolve around the mind of your sun.

But now all my thoughts are centred on you,
Ask me for the moon
Don't leave so soon

I know that fire, that life, that weapon,
I got them all from you.

There are no paths I wouldn't walk for you
S.R and  B.M
habiba May 2018
The window is open and the wind is cold,
As I lay in my bed feigning sleep, I feel old
The hollowness in my bones speak of stories untold
There will be few memories that my ***** today will hold
I perceive this from the lack of enthusiasm with which I greet the day.
All the actions and reactions that will, with it, fall into decay.

I harbour no remorse for the want of warmth in my stare
And I feel that those who ask it of me shouldn't really dare.
It is not for me to judge the tides of such stirrings
I fear I am not experienced in these whirrings.
I fall short when it comes to simple joys, but to the brim in human ploys.
I am like the moon when she is round and full,
Making you rise up like the waves, gasping at the pull.

I don my hat of deadened emotions,
Human suffering I wear like a fur coat, thick and long
The plight of mankind I observe like ten thousand devotions,
Until the distorted essence of us stops seeming so...wrong.
Because I am more attuned to the dark,
To the quiet whimpers of children taken from the park.

The individual's darkness tears at my conscience
His malignant blackness a disease in his heart
Tell me where do the soft go?
Whose untainted innocence is not abused roughly so?
Whose kindness is not swallowed up by an unwholesome whole?
And the taste of life is not more bitter than sweet?
For I would wish for an otherness escape if it were not so.

The eternity of time when it was still young, and the solitude of the dark when it was empty.
The hardness of diamonds before the fire, and the fluidity of water before the frost.
The immeasurable pillars holding up the sky, and the animation of the body before its death,
And the soul that is tasked to carry all these along and hold up its head.
Beginnings, reflections, darkness, struggles
habiba May 2018
Whence come ye, so wild and so fleet,
For sandals of lightning are on your feet,
And your wings are soft and swift as thought,
And your eyes are as love which is veiled not.

We come from the mind,
Of humankind,
Which was late, so dusk and obscene and blind.
Now, 'tis an ocean,
Of clear emotion
A heaven of serene and mighty emotion

From the dim recesses,
Of woven caresses,
Where lovers catch ye by your loose tresses,
From azure isles,
Where sweet wisdom smiles,
Delaying your ships with their siren smiles.

We waded and flew
And the islets were few
Where the bud-blighted flowers of happiness grew,

Our spoil is won
Our task is done,
We are free to dive, or soar, or run,
Beyond and around,
Or within the bound,
Which clips the world with darkness around

The joy, the triumph, the delight, the madness,
The boundless, overflowing, bursting gladness,
The vaporous exultation not to be confined,
Ha! Ha! the animation of delight.
Which wraps me like an atmosphere of light
And bears me as a cloud is borne by its own wind

As the dissolving warmth of dawn may fold,
A half-unfrozen dew-globe, green and gold
And crystalline, till it becomes a winged mist,
And wanders up the vault of the blue day,
Outlives the noon, and on the sun's last ray,
Hangs over the sea, a fleece of fire and amethyst
habiba May 2018
It began with absence,
It began with desire,
And all the things in between you could not acquire,

The eves of the trees were slick with dew,
Drops of water all over the leaves, spewed
My heart was young, light, propitious,
Everything around me kind, bright, almost ridiculous,
Perhaps then was when you surmised,
That I would prove an absolute delight

Did you wonder if it would be easy?
I feel like I was supposed to act ******
The veins you clogged and the bones you broke,
The fingers you bent and the heels that just won't
The hair that was shaven as it grew unheeded,
My nails were pulled, they were not needed.

Cast down all the hangings that I put on the wall,
Take a scythe to them as I watch, in thrall
I fell to my knees and you helped me to the ditch,
Disposed to push me in as they swang the pots out and hitched

Scrubbing as I reeled, I could not get clean
The filth was everywhere, I found it hard to deal.
In a state of numbness, I found some balance
So now I'm clinging to this graceful frame of nonchalance,

Pray not leave with distaste,
In your abiding, unreasonable hate,
You crash about furniture as you do,
And I no longer care to clean up after you.
habiba May 2018
Divine for me, if you please, how I have ye, and you do not speak?
Have I crossed a line, that thine correspondence is bleak?
Have you put upon me a girdle, that our interaction be limited to only what you would need from me?

You sit there in your cocoon,
I do not know that you brood,
I imagine you must have some preoccupation that is veiled from me.
Whence come they?
That you would not let me see?
I long for you to become with me
For I sit alone unhinged from thee.

Can we talk, you and I?
Be unleashed, you and I?
Melded, unrestricted you and I?

Open for me, this seclusion chafes.
habiba May 2018
Whistling, wandering in the twilight
Closed, forbidden, straining for pure light,
Longing for flight

Dreams that haunt,
Making the present oblong,

Give me flight, give me reign, give me freedom,
but oh so grave,
Equal parts fear, equal parts need,
Strange this devouring new greed.
habiba May 2018
Do you live in a race, or must you race to live?
Do you enjoy your waters, or are you a pet fish?
If we sprang forth from the earth and grew unheeded,
Uncurbed, but never needed,
Would we have been better at living?

Is it better to have it done, or should you do it yourself,
At what point do you enjoy your fantasies, better than not being able to see?
Should the life of mankind be inevitable?
Maybe it already is. Maybe all this is a distraction

But again, the struggle, as they say, is real
Living is fighting, the wars, the battles, are not surreal.
For in every human being, there is something you conceal.
If we are atoms that science seeks to break down,
As like the seconds, minutes, hours are meant just for us.
And bigger things observe it as such.

Not to be mistaken for the snow globe scenario,
But instead likened to the trillion or so cells, that are observed,
in the human being.
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