remember when we used to talk
underneath the pavements we walk
delusion has crept my vision
yearning like it's another fiction

pacing through cherished moments
painful it is, but I am blinded
art full of flaws, full of dents
replaced by wonderful beads

electrifying feels for you
longs and can never be diminished
journey of sufferings
reminisce, but will never fade

Birth
comes whispering
her way
into the world.
The passing
of the days
are unmentioned,
unnoticed,
forgotten sounds.
And then,
with no forewarning,
another faint whisper,
and we have
death
at our fingertips.
In vain
do we grasp
desperately
for the fleeting
moments,
sounds,
of which we were
oblivious to
only yesterday...
which were
Ours
only yesterday.
Alas!
All is gone
far
beyond our reach,
save only yesterday's
murmuring
echoes.

cj  1971

A crimson lighthouse in  a raving storm,
Braving the liquid progeny of dark Form,
Showed no trembling boats on the horizon.
© Lazhar Bouazzi