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 Sep 2013 Mariam Paracha
j
your presence fades
    so slowly                  
    but so quickly          
    at the same time      
words scribbled in pencil, in the corners of our books
hesitantly rub away
and the stray hairs in between pages of old notepads
are dismissed
the old coffee cup you used to use, that was always your favourite
it's been pushed to the very back of the cupboard, out of sight
I replaced the bedsheets that you burnt holes in
with your cigarette butts
and all your old T-shirts (still way too big for me)
are just nightclothes now, that belong to only myself

sometimes I think
maybe
I can make out your scent
in the fresh washing
and I find unused bottles of your shampoo
stored in the bathroom cabinet
and an odd sock here or there
that's certainly not mine
and maybe
just maybe
I miss you,
sometimes
 Sep 2013 Mariam Paracha
Lucia
In the wind your wings do shake
Spread wide against the sky
I spread my fingertips far apart
Trying to mimic the way you blossom
When the sun is out
I spread my arms out to touch the sea
My eyelids are waves
They lick the shore line
Lashes full of sand, the dream-heavy kind
Open and I see visions of the dahlias dancing
Close and there is a swallowing darkness
Flicks of light reminding me there is a
World unknown on the other side
Stop-motion
Time-lapse
I flashback to nights of poetry
And it is sunrise again
 Sep 2013 Mariam Paracha
Jackie
My mind is blocked
I look at the clock
And notice my time is running out
My head is full of doubt
I'm sorry mom
I've let you down
I promise I'm coming around
Its 12:02 in the morning
Always storming in my brain
Must catch a wave and ride it out
Maybe there is more then sky beyond those clouds
But all I see are people
Always moving
Always running about
No one stops anymore to look around
I must find a place where time and space corroborate
Am I visible now
Or do you need to get your eyes checked
This place is not for everyone
Only the heartless
Or maybe the ones who take the time to speak their mind
Instead of falling in line
Please excuse me I don't mean to be rude
But you are in my way
Keeping me at bay
And all this time I kept myself locked away
Nowadays everyone's fake
Until you figure out that we aren't supposed to relate
And we all have eyes but we don't use them
We all just live to die
So why not show the world what you hide inside
Just because you don't fit in doesn't mean you don't deserve your moment of glory
For once put aside your differences and learn that we are all one
My mind is no longer blocked
I've beaten the clock
My thoughts are clear and I am sure of one thing only
Life
Among other things
Is for the living
If you are tired of feeling
Well join the club
Its 12:05 and tonight I remember why I'm alive
Look deep inside and realize that whether you are fully awake or paralyzed
We all live to die
So don't criticize
Only memorize what you want to say
When someone asks you
How did you change the world?
High school kinda stinks
Everybody wants to get to the top
People talk before they think
I'd like to take a moment and just stop

Take a look at what's become
See who's really there
See where this is all coming from
Nothing's fair

One moment you're high & mighty
Until you're hit with sticks & stones
Until its not worth fighting
When they've broken your bones
Like seriously highschool is such a joke. Nobody is truly there
Reading the other day,
an article about some,
Renowned fellow's notion,
On the study of "Human,
Productive Locomotion".

A reputed Authorty,
of "Time Management",
His main proclivity being,
The belief in his increasing,
Other peoples productivity.

Modulating their all too,
common Human tendency,
For naturally wasting time,
and non productive energy.

Him asserting himself to be,
a self styled know it all,
Bonafied Expert in Efficiency.

Now I can see,
How it might be,
That this type of study,
Offers some relevancy,
For the Barons of Industry,
What with them regulating,
The flow, While streamlining,
and furthering the advance,
of all things, relating to commerce.

A purely Scientific belief,
For the primary benefit,
Of the Time Clocks sake,
And all those Bosse's
Emotional financial betterment.

But what on earth,
did that have to do,
with an old retired,
fool like me?  

What matter that,
I merely sit and think,
for hours at a time.
Read the paper,
or a book,
Computer chat,
or cook?

Putter in my garden,
Or gratefully just stare,
at big billowing clouds,
or rainbows in the air.

Or perhaps I choose,
to hug my wife,
Or chase my Grand
Kids up a tree,
Maybe grab a nap,
Or even take a ***.

Pet my dog,
Or have a Beer.
Watch the Tube,
a little bit,
Or congregate to meditate,
with a convivial group of friends.

Maybe take a walk,
Down by the river.
Get out my old,
Bow and Quiver.

Wash my car,
Cut some grass,
Go to my writing class.

Slip on down,
to the " Red Dog Saloon"
Where I'll promenade,
A little Texas Two Step.

Come home in time,
To unwind and,
watch some David Letterman.

What's efficient,
and what is not?
Clearly, that interpretation,
Is completely up to me.
No Efficiency Expert needed.
My day, my future is all my prerogative.
 Aug 2013 Mariam Paracha
martin
There is a vicar from Chelsea
Who alas is not very wealthy
Often he dines on communion wine
And curried bat from the belfry

He lights a lot of incense
To hide his flatulence
He gets a bit high
Perhaps that is why
His sermons never make sense



--The vicar gets his knickers in a twist--

The old church roof had seen better days
The pressing need was a serious fund-raise
So the vicar abseiled down the tower
As the village watched by the graves and flowers

With a flurry his cassock flew up in the air
Shocking pink he wore under there
Flapping around it covered his face
As he dangled there in embarrassed disgrace

Someone called the fire brigade
A turntable ladder came to his aid
When at last they got him down
Humbled and grateful he kissed the ground
I’ve got a list of things to do
Demanding my attention.
I’ll whittle it down to just a few,
But first I want to mention:
The way the light falls on the leaves,
The shapes of clouds in the sky,
The wind that rustles in the trees,
And the flight of birds going by.
I know I should be ticking off
The items on my list,
But I would rather take a walk,
Distractions I can’t resist.
It seems that all those silly tasks
Could wait for another day,
But this afternoon will never last,
So I’d better go out and play.
In the space between my lips
and your face
unwritten words wait
to be spoken in
tokens of
love.
 Aug 2013 Mariam Paracha
R
I've never really
Been much for
Trying.
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