My Cupid's absence saw another bloom,
Scene reviews of praise, richly gathered.
Defer your attribute with golden plume,
And dearest phrase is by all wit shatter'd.
I think nice aims while his aim reassures,
And like untutored youths we pipe Amen!
To ev'ry hymn. The ardor needs be yours
In shiny form of fine discriminating pen.
Hearing you praised, I say it is very true,
To your praise I would add much more:
But do so in my head, as thou loves you,
Such it is, final, for he holds rank before.
Then others for sake of words give relief,
My silent thoughts do still speak to grief.

When eyes must hear
And
When eras must see

Blue O     Green U    Red I    White E    Black A

jasmine was little
and doesn't know her diary notebook
has gilding
has God
oh you, the creator gods of lined notebooks
let me have my grandpa


مرگ من

یاسمن کوچک بود
و نمی دانست
دفتر خاطره هایش اکلیل دارد
دفتر خاطره هایش خدا دارد
ای خدایان آفریننده ی دفترهای خط دار
به من اجازه بدهید
...پدربزرگم را داشته باشم

A quiet park, all alone,
Sitting on my swinging throne.

Back and forth, upward I fly,
Into the beautiful, cloudless sky.

Soaring, smiling, wind in my face;
Just me and swing in a peaceful place.

We saw we lacked fulfillment of desires,
goals our mind hardwires into our existence.
We made a pact called resistance,
made a promise that appalled assistance
we don't need anymore.

Morally grey, black and white were never
meant to stay, we were supposed to sever
ourselves from past whining, unable to withstand
declining, weepers, lonesome sleepers,
armed with their hand.

We're not back, admitted, we are only just beginning,
we recognized the lack, the start of our winning.